Choke

CHOKE
by: Chuck Palahniuk
Anchor Books, 2002

Finally got to reading Chuck Palahniuk's Choke - just in time for the film! Though I would normally would have gone after Fight Club first, this was highly recommended to me by a devout Palahniuk fan. The only other book of his I've read is Diary, which was dark and funny, but at a dark time for me was also highly disturbing.

Choke was pretty much a blank slate for me. Other than being told that it was about a sex addict, and a great book, I went in knowing nothing. This is probably my favorite way to start a new book. You aren't perverted by the recollections of others, by expectations of certain parts. It's a discovery.

It is difficult to go over this book without giving too much away, and Palahniuk is one of those writers who is always messing with his readers, throwing them curve balls. No story is very straightforward. Saying Choke is about a sex addict is so much of an oversimplification, but to say anything else would mean an essay. It's about addiction, society, hope and the lack thereof, people, relationships, happiness. It's about someone with nothing trying to figure out what the hell it all means. This is a theme that I have found runs through other Palahniuk stories, including Fight Club and Diary. He likes the underdog who never wins, the people scraping the bottom of society's barrel, the bottom feeders to the rest of the world. And can you blame him? Sure I love an good Wodehouse story about good 'ol Bertie, Jeeves, and upper crust homicidal antics, but the really interesting stories come from the underground, from the pathetic folks. And Victor Mancini definitely is pathetic. There is also the element of insanity - who is crazy and who isn't. Crazy can be such a relative term, and a relative state. This is another theme with Palahniuk. And Victor, in my opinion, is a touch.

It is always good to remind oneself that this book is funny. Sometimes during some rants or dark portions it is easy to become wrapped up in Victor's broken mind and get down on life. You need to remember the humor. And if you forget Palahniuk will hit you with something and you'll laugh out loud. It's that dark twisted humor that runs so lightly below the surface that keeps this book going. Victor's best friend, Denny, for example. He is always the butt of everything bad that comes down the pike. He is the ultimate pathetic hilarious figure, in my opinion. The guy that always steps in crap. And he shows up every so often, like the fool in Shakespeare, to lighten the mood a bit. Also like the fool ,he sheds a little wisdom upon the situation, proved some sane compass for Victor at his worst. And in the end we see that maybe the only sane, reasonable person in the entire story is inane Denny, the one addicted to masturbation.

At first I really like our anti-hero. I felt for him, growing up with the crazy mother, going from foster home to foster home. The instability, the lack of affection, the twisted relationship with his mother, it really gives a lot of empathy towards him. You accept that this has led him to be a sex addict, to working at a crappy job. Plus, I like crazy people. They're more interesting. AS the book goes on it really turns more from empathy to annoyance. I wanted to step in and slap him for just being ridiculous most of the time. True, this is part of what makes him a humorous character, and pathetic, but sometimes you want to yell at people to stop thinking and just be. I guess that's why I like Denny and how he plays the role of fool, of balance to Victor's mania.

The style of the book, the first person narrative from Victor, gives such a complete picture of the character and the way he thinks. Even the repetitive forms of speech and thought. They add to his humor as well as his crazy. They make you laugh out loud. The jumping back and forth in time makes you really pay attention to what is happening, and when. I like that he unfolds a story in a jumbled chronology. You are piecing together Victor's history lie a quilt. It makes the book go faster, too. He breaks things up in to small chapters and the story moves along at a good pace. There is no getting bogged down in the mire of Victor's brain, because it's just moving too fast.

Overall Choke was very different than what I'd expected. It was definitely funnier. Let's face it, sex IS funny. And someone addicted to sex is funny. The weird ways people have sex is down right hilarious. And the pathetic will always be funny, no matter how much heart you have for them. I loved the ending. I love the whole thing falling apart and only then the light shining through. It is similar to other Palahniuk endings. He certainly believes in the hitting bottom to rise again idea. But he manages to get there in enough different ways that I keep reading his books.


Now, to lighten the mood, a little YA lit. Am starting The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I never read thing kind of thing as a kid or teen. Better late than never, I guess. Just bought another chic lit book that looks interesting. Trying to change things up a bit.

Comics on the brain?

Over the past few years my friends have tried their best to introduce me to the world of comic books and graphic novels. And though I still cannot stand the ugly, annoying, and confusing superhero ones like X-men and all that, there have definitely been many that have struck my fancy. Though I am not willing to learn 50+ years of back story and character history in order to understand a scene with two Justice League members, a twelve trade series is ok. Certain authors have become favorites, and even some series. I'm v. picky when it comes to comics. The artwork has to grab me or I can't read it. I like books because no one can screw up my view of things with something ugly or garish. And there are still those out there that just are too dumb for words.

So what makes me pick one up? First, who wrote it? If it's by Warren Ellis or Garth Ennis I'll probably read it. I just read a dumber than dumb one-shot by Ellis that he wrote after a joke he made. Seriously, I'll pick up anything of his - it's sick. Garth Ennis is also a sick man, and that makes me love him. He's wicked funny. Yes, I just used the word wicked. The only exception is when they write parts of those superhero series I don't like.
I look to see if it's a title that a friend has recommended. These folks are seriously hard core fans of the comics world. They know the evolution and history of a character going back to the Golden Age. At this point most know what I like and I can trust their recomendations (except Bad World which, though well drawn and well written by Mr Ellis, had burned things into my brain that I'd rather not remember).
As mentioned, the art is a big player. Comics are a visual medium and I'm not about to waste my time reading something if it's surrounded by crappy sketching or blinding neon colors (hello New Mutants ones I needed to read for a game). If you value your writing, you'll find a great artist to present it. I started reading The Authority, created by Warren Ellis. When he wrote it there was an artist that I really enjoyed (Brian Hitch, I think?) who made spreads that could never be captured in a page of words. Then the writer and artist changed and I was done with it. Ew - whoever it was turned every guy into this huge, broad-shouldered, no-neck creature. Couldn't take it.
Story topics, of course, comes in to it. Sure there are a few superhero-type ones, but those are usually the funnier ones (like Hitman) and a little off-beat. I like ones that stretch what the medium is about. Most recently I finished Brian K. Vaughan's Pride of Baghdad. It is about the lions that escaped from teh Baghdad zoo in 2003 and were roaming around the city until shot by US soldiers. It's from the point of view of the lions. It's a unique story and beautifully written. The art by Niko Henrichon is moving. One reason for my love of Ellis, besides his wit, is his using comics to explore what interests him. Space travel, you say? Enter Orbiter (see previous entry) and Ministry of Space. He is almost an anthropologist in his exploration of the world and humanity and everything is fodder for the page.


I have found that far more comics and graphic novels are appearing on my LibraryThing than is really representative of my reading habits, choices, and desires. Warren Ellis has taken over my Author Cloud. Because they are so short and quick, I tend to squeeze in one or two while reading a longer work (I'm still getting through Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass - a late edition with all the addins) or when I'm busy reading parts of reference material for research. No one actually reads those long archaeology tomes cover to cover, I swear! I work in a library and many comics come across my path that I don't seek out, and I just read them quickly before sending them on their way. This is what happened with the two recent ones, Pride of Baghdad and Hitman.

There is some merit to this medium (NOT genre, people). It's another means of conveying story, emotion, meaning. It's not the same as Golden Age Superman anymore.

WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY

When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol,. still it was not a happy night for me that follow'd,
And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh'd, inging, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I though how my dear friend, my lover, was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face as inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast - and that night I was happy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO A STRANGER

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (it comes to me as of a dream),
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste. matured,
You grew up with me, were a by with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, you body has become not your only not left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I believe in you me soul, the other i am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
~~~~

~Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Song of Whitman - an introduction to American verse

I have indeed started Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. The inspiration budded from an exhibit and lecture on him and John Burroughs. Knowing nothing about the lives or writings of either, I found it all v. interesting. Other little moments cumulated to my last post and my need to read this early Whitman classic.

Being such a slow reader I am still in the early portions of "Song of Myself" but I can't help but love it. It's been a while since I really sunk my teeth in to a long verse work and I'm enjoying the extra brain power it takes to process it all. He has this style unlike anything I've read. I guess I just read too many classics (he was so highly criticized when he was first publishing for not writing like everyone else).
The short pieces in the Inscriptions section say so much in so little. I am using a borrowed copy, but I feel that I must dig out my copy (I am told we own it, and I assume that we would) just to line it with book darts on sections that really hit me. I keep forgetting my little tin of them and can't bear to put any post-its in this 1912 copy I am using! Certain passages make me smile in spite of myself. Others seem like he was in my head when he wrote them (only my words are never as beautiful or graceful as his). In 2008 I find such meaning in these old words. That, to me, is the true power of a great writer - timelessness. I know that in his own time critics thought him crude, perverse, and near pornographic. I see passages that may have seemed that way then, but today of course seem tame. Sometimes it takes a sharp and shocking image to make an idea clear - often a tame idea, at that!


WHEN I READ THE BOOK
When I red the book, the biography famous,
And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man's life?
And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life
(As if any man really knew aught of my life,
Why even I myself I often think know little of nothing of my real life,
Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections
I seek for my own use to trace out here.)

This came from the man before John Burroughs read Leaves of Grass, before he wrote copious pages on the life of Whitman and defensing his work. How ironic! Barely read in his own time, Whitman today is considered such an American treasure, so beloved! How terrible, too, that at age 24 I am only reading him for the first time (save for "O Captain! My Captain!" which I should have learned in school BUt I think I read it on my own. It was in a book called What you 5th grader ought to know something that I feel should be given to public school boards. I mean, who hasn't at least heard of it?? It, too, is in this book! I never knew!)

Why isn't he more widely taught? We teach English poetry so much in schools, why not the poets of this country? While you're banging through "The Road Less Taken" add some Whitman in the mix for comparison. He lived and wrote during such a fascinating and dynamic period in our history, making his own path through the wilderness of writing. I didn't take American literature in college (Renaissance, Japanese, and Russian) but I feel like he should be covered in high school. I think that his straightforward style would be v. teachable to that age, and appealing. I don't think that "Ode on a Grecian Urn" is really the style that will inspire students in this day and age to write poetry. It is beautiful, of course. I loved it at once. But I know that any poem beginning with 'Thou' automatically makes half the students roll their eyes or fall asleep. Whitman feels, at times, like he could have written it last month, not a hundred years ago.


Now I will do nothing but listen,
To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it.
...


I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

So they show their relations to me and I accept them,
They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.


I will continue this journey through American poetry. It feels almost like a journey through myself.

Leaves of Whitman are falling, it seems

Something is afoot.
Synchronicity, I think people call it.
Someone or something in the universe wants me to read Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass.
I must do this now.

Griffin & Sabine - the artful correspondence

Griffin & Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence

I have just finished reading Nick Bantock's mystical Griffin and Sabine series about two artists who carry out a spacial correspondence and relationship. I had though the series was only three books, but just today learned that there are more, in the Morning Star trilogy! This makes me so very excited - I was happy with the ending of book three, but crave more!

A co-worker introduced me to this author after I saw the beautiful cover of a non-fiction book of his, Urgent 2nd class, which is about making things from ephemera. She recommended the Griffin and Sabine books. The art alone got me hooked.

The story of these two is told almost exclusively through their letters and postcards. The reader is more like a voyeur catching glances of their private thoughts as the mail passes through. It begins when Sabine finally gets the courage to send a postcard to Griffin, who lives in England halfway across the globe, to tell him that for years when he draws she can see through his eyes. No, this is NOT you average love story. They write back and forth and the mystical, psychic connection turns into a powerfully emotional one. But Griffin is troubled, and the reader is always a little unsure of whether both characters really exist, or if Griffin is just crazy. Plans to meet in person fall through and Griffin's mental health is, well, fragile. There are little notes of non-correspondence storytelling at the ends of the books, but the rest is through each character's point of view. The structure of this form makes the reader focus more on each word to try and decipher what is happening.

My favorite part of this series is the way in which Bantock tells the story. You have more depth and view than if it were from one person's, but are limited by not having the omnipotent angle. I love that he is re-thinking the concept of storytelling. When historians do research they look for 'primary sources,' and personal letters are often the important means of learning the stories of the past (history is just storytelling, in a way). Bantock applies this to fiction and fantasy. The artwork, too, is worth reading this series for. These two artists make their own postcards, and their letters and envelopes are also lavishly created in beautiful colors and images. He is so detailed that the handwriting is different, and even the artwork of each has its own character. You know who wrote each letter or postcard just by the style of it.

I highly recommend this series to anyone who loves ephemera, art, letters, or a good mystery. The books are short and can be gone through in a single sitting, but they leave a longer effect of almost childlike glee.

Vulcan's Hammer

VULCAN'S HAMMER
by Philip K. Dick
New York: Ace Books, 1960
Double Novel Books


On a recent trip to the city, I needed a small book to read. I grabbed a Double Novel Book from 1960 to carry in my purse. It contained Dick's Vulcan's Hammer and The Skynappers by John Brunner. I haven't gotten to the latter yet. I aquired this book sometime in college, while working at a science fiction library. I adore these little trade gems they used to put out at $.35 a copy.

Vulcan's Hammer takes place in a future Earth where a single body - Unity - governs the planet. It is set up like one huge beaurocratic entity with levels of Directors and clerks, making for a cut-throat work culture filled with paranoia and suspicion. Man's great achievement in the elimination of war and conflict was to create super computers that could rule in stead of a single human or human body. But there is a Movement afoot, led by the Healers, to bring down the super Vulcan computers a cease man's subservience to the machines.

The general idea of this novel is great. A constant theme in science fiction is the idea of eradicating war and conflict, either on Earth or in the Universe. Instead of a global tribunal or President of Earth, Dick chooses a machine. Taking away the unstable emotions and hypocrisies of humanity and ruling by logic and fact alone. In the crazy, war-torn world of today the idea is still tempting. But, as with any distopia, the perfect idea is never perfect. The urge to move up in the system turns people into spies, sneaks, and saboteurs. You create a larger and larger gap between the rich and the poor. And, of course, the big computer starts functioning in a way unimagined by it's creators. As in I, robot the machine tries to eliminate the human element, reasoning their existence away. It exemplifies many fears that came about when the computer age was in its infancy.
In 1960 the computer was a new technology not available to the everyman, but absolutely fascinating. Most computers took up entire rooms and were programmed using punch cards. They were utilized by governments and scientists, and it took trained experts to make them work. All of these ideas are how Dick envisions his Vulcan computers - massive chambers of tubes and wires that were only worked on by the most skilled of electricians and engineers, used by only the most elite in Unity. Of course, the story both praises the computer age and is wary of it. Dick almost seems jealous of the rift between the users and those below, when Father Fields, head of the Movement, says:

"You'll put an end to the cult of the technocrat?...For experts only - run by and for those oriented around verbal knowledge; I'm so damn sick of that. Mind stuff- as if manual skills like bricklaying and pip=fitting weren't worth talking about. As if all those people who work with their hands, the skill of their fingers...I'm tired of having those people looked down on."

This fear, mistrust, and jealousy is part of what leads to the Movement to begin with. Just as a communist revolt seeks to strike down the rich, elite bourgeoisie that seem to make living as poor or middle class unbearable.

Reading a story like this in 2008 puts the reader in a very different place than its original audience. Computers are now the tools of everyday, available to the masses. They are used not only for science and business, but for pleasure and entertainment - blogs, news, porn, lolcats, whatever. Robots also play a significant part of this future world, and though we don't have automated robot taxis, we are getting there with robot vacuums and manufacturing. Other little tidbits that call attention to its time: giving a sick man a cigarette (today, cigarettes are often used deliberately in fiction as part of character development; back then it was just so common that leaving them out was more of a statement), and all the people in charge being men. There are few women, and they play emotional people, or secretaries. This would also have been a 1960s cultural mindset. These little moments just made me smile while reading it. They brought me back to the time when there seemed to be more wide-eyed amazement in the world.

Despite the dated view of the computer, I think that the themes in Vulcan's Hammer are still relevant. So much today has been computerized and mechanized. More and more our lives exist on computer networks and government databases. The human element is being removed step by step - we are that mistrusted. And can you blame them? War and social upheaval are just as a part of the world today as fifty years ago. The temptation to trust important decisions to the non-human is not just an idea - computers that run simulations help make decisions for travel, war, and the economy. And we are more global today than ever. We're not yet at a single country with a single ruler, but if one considers 'power' in terms of the economic control, then things aren't that far off. I think there is still the opportunity for this type of future. Despite years of writers questioning AI the science continues to blossom. Are we doomed by our machines, or will they in time save us?



(image from wwww.philipkdick.com)