I Just Finished Reading...

[Zaharoff]

A Gentle Madness

Basbanes, Nicholas - A Gentle Madness

Gentle? Perhaps. Expensive, almost certainly.
The disease of book collecting which many here can possibly relate to.
On the other hand, those discussed are mega-players.

Starting out in Egypt, then Greece and Rome, eventually charting the dynasties of England.
Bibliophiles on the order of sovereigns or deep-pocketed aristocrats.
Much later, Stateside, there is the House Of Morgan as well as Huntington.

A chapter on Texas oil gushers building the massive Texas University library, balanced by the rising wealth and predominance of California.

This is entertaining reading, if from a distance. These folks have money; they spend more in a year than most can earn in a lifetime.

Then there is the wonderful Stephen Blumberg. Lacking unlimited resources, he built his multi-million dollar collection the old-fashioned way – – stealing.
Excuse me, Blumberg declared that he viewed his activities as an indefinitely extended inter-library loan.
This chapter delves at length into his resourcefulness and ingenuity, getting past high security of universities and major city libraries.

Remember, rare books are out there. Keep checking Thrift Town, some steamer trunk might contain a Gutenberg.

 

[Zaharoff]

Karim Ghahwagi

Ghahwagi, Karim - The Black Hand

Malta experiences a bizarre series of murders. Dismembered bodies amidst feathers, a lot of feathers.
Inspector Osman is assigned. A Libyan, he works under the auspices of the Port Authority, yet actually he falls under the Secret Police.
The murders are not only inexplicable, but they are delicate and have connections with the swelling migrant community.

Osman enters the refugee camps, where he is told a lengthy fable of a wealthy merchant and his daughter, whose singing sent those who heard her into raptures.
Apparently, the fairytale is the core of this novella.

We return to Inspector Osman, where his case concludes abruptly. Not that readers deserve solutions, let alone explanations, yet more exposition might have improved this dramatically. Perhaps 10-15 pages.
One gets a sense that Ghahwagi simply quit. Put down his pen, ceased typing, went for a walk.
The result is a half finished draft. Unsatisfactory and badly done.
Where is the publisher’s guidance? Try harder, please.

 

[Severini]

Satantango - László Krasznahorkai




I confess I didn´t completely understand the book and I think maybe it is not one to be understood but felt.
It is a difficult and circular narrative that sems to take place in hell(?). There are many instances in the novel that I thought "this is someplace else, this is not Earth" but he somehow brought the ambient back to reality.
I am still thinking about it, days and days after reading it.
Unfortunately, there is no other book by him availble in portuguese...and the english translations are way too expensive.

 

[bendk]

Some books that I have been reading recently:

Ramsey Campbell, Probably. I got this as an interlibrary loan. I was looking for something on Ligotti. It did include his introduction to Songs of a Dead Dreamer, calling it one of the most important books of the decade. And that is significant, but I have also found a number of his other essays rewarding. I especially like the ones where he meets other authors for the first time: Robert Aickman, Peter Straub, John Brunner, Poppy Z. Brite, et al.

I finally read Malpertuis by Jean Ray. I enjoyed the novel, but I wish novels with numerous characters were structured like plays. The first couple of pages devoted to the listing of characters and their relationship with one another. It would make for easier reading. I appreciated the notes for the Wakefield Press edition.

I've read another 300 or so pages of Crypt(o)spasm by Gary J. Shipley. He gets me laughing the hardest these days. Unfortunately, he also intersperses it with things that are too ugly for my taste. Half the time you feel like you have a feather up your ass, and the other like you are undergoing a botched trepanning procedure that will leave you with lasting brain damage. I still think I have a couple of hundred pages to go. It's an 800-page book. I probably should be reading Proust, but I doubt if he's as funny. Look for a homage anthology Tales from Pavilionstone in about 10 years.

I also lugged up my box of Twilight Zone Magazines from the basement and have been reading those. I reread a nice story by Buzzati, "The Scandal on Via Sesostri." Unfortunately, the art stinks. I did read a good tale by Charles L. Grant with nice art that I might post in the Excavating a Story thread.

 

[Ironrose]

I finally read Malpertuis by Jean Ray. I enjoyed the novel, but I wish novels with numerous characters were structured like plays. The first couple of pages devoted to the listing of characters and their relationship with one another. It would make for easier reading. I appreciated the notes for the Wakefield Press edition.

I also read Malpertuis, a couple months ago and thought it was good. I wasn't sure at first, but I've had this experience before with him, where I wasn't sure at first but eventually realized how good he was. I was especially impressed with his second book of stories (according to Wakefield) called Cruise of Shadows.

 

[Ironrose]

I finally read Malpertuis by Jean Ray. I enjoyed the novel, but I wish novels with numerous characters were structured like plays. The first couple of pages devoted to the listing of characters and their relationship with one another. It would make for easier reading. I appreciated the notes for the Wakefield Press edition.

I also read Malpertuis, a couple months ago and thought it was good. I wasn't sure at first, but I've had this experience before with him, where I wasn't sure at first but eventually realized how good he was. I was especially impressed with his second book of stories (according to Wakefield) called Cruise of Shadows.

After posting I realized I'd neglected to mention how I ended up reading Malpertuis when I did. I was reading Beasts by John Crowley and had a feeling the character Reynard the Fox must be drawn from somewhere else, so I looked him up. From there I discovered his house Malpertuis, which rang a bell, as the book by Jean Ray was on my shelf. So, that became the next book I read. I also chased down a copy of the original Caxton story (not an original printing, of course!) Maybe I'll never read that, but I do like having it around.

And today I cam across the Lion Man figure, dating to between 35,000 and 41,000 years ago, which also relates directly to Beasts. Things go in circles.

 

[xylokopos]

Satantango - László Krasznahorkai




I confess I didn´t completely understand the book and I think maybe it is not one to be understood but felt.
It is a difficult and circular narrative that sems to take place in hell(?). There are many instances in the novel that I thought "this is someplace else, this is not Earth" but he somehow brought the ambient back to reality.
I am still thinking about it, days and days after reading it.
Unfortunately, there is no other book by him availble in portuguese...and the english translations are way too expensive.

Could it be that the Portuguese translation left something to be desired? It is years since I read it, but I don't recall having great difficulty following the narrative. The structure and those interminable sentences might try you, though, permit you to lose focus, make you read and reread the same lines to pick up the thread. But in the end if felt very rewarding. I wrote something about it in the Central European Authors thread. Never went back to write a full review, I strangely regret it now.

The English translation was shortlisted for a fiction prize about ten years ago. I like to think that it captures the spirit of the original to the maximum extent possible.

There is a mythological and allegorical feel to Satantango, it is true, but I think if you already know or read up about collectivization and agricultural communes in Hungary during the Communist years, the story will feel more solid and grounded. Not quite Hell, but no one would confuse it for Heaven either.

 

[Zaharoff]

Michiko Aoyama

Aoyama, Michiko - What You Are Looking For Is In The Library

Five stories of disconnected or lonely souls. Underachievers, never-weres, has-beens.
They gradually intersect at a small community library. Not necessarily physical connection, yet their stories and fates brush.
By the end, these threads are more apparent, and more contrived.

The librarian is stereotyped as gargantuan, which may put some off.
There are messages of a second act, even a third, and in many ways this is an inspirational read.
Female characters seem to fare better than males, in terms of actually improving their lot, or doing something about their lives rather than planning to do something.

Hiroya, 30, still lives with his mother, does not work, shuffles through life.
He wants employment he can be passionate about.
Masao, 65, retired, vegetating in his home, while his younger wife may or may not care.

Thinking afterward, I wondered if author Aoyama was making sly comments about men in society.

 

[Severini]

Satantango - László Krasznahorkai




I confess I didn´t completely understand the book and I think maybe it is not one to be understood but felt.
It is a difficult and circular narrative that sems to take place in hell(?). There are many instances in the novel that I thought "this is someplace else, this is not Earth" but he somehow brought the ambient back to reality.
I am still thinking about it, days and days after reading it.
Unfortunately, there is no other book by him availble in portuguese...and the english translations are way too expensive.

Could it be that the Portuguese translation left something to be desired? It is years since I read it, but I don't recall having great difficulty following the narrative. The structure and those interminable sentences might try you, though, permit you to lose focus, make you read and reread the same lines to pick up the thread. But in the end if felt very rewarding. I wrote something about it in the Central European Authors thread. Never went back to write a full review, I strangely regret it now.

The English translation was shortlisted for a fiction prize about ten years ago. I like to think that it captures the spirit of the original to the maximum extent possible.

There is a mythological and allegorical feel to Satantango, it is true, but I think if you already know or read up about collectivization and agricultural communes in Hungary during the Communist years, the story will feel more solid and grounded. Not quite Hell, but no one would confuse it for Heaven either.

SPOILERS BELOW

*
*
*


I am not familiar with 80´s Hungary or any of the Eastern European countries that much. Maybe that´s why the atmosphere is so alien to me.
Starting with the climate. Endless rain, permanent overcast....

I agree the central theme is easy to follow: Irimiás tricked the townsfolk once, returns and double crosses everyone again, takes their money and spreads them in an unkwown and distant village. But the book takes a lot of left turns that baffled me...
As someone who worked on a building pretty much exactly as the one Irimiás goes before returning to the village, I cannot help but consider that kind of place pure hell

 

[miguel1984]

I read the revised edition of Sick Little Monkeys: The Unauthorized Ren and Stimpy Story by Thad Komorowski. A third edition is probably needed, since John Kricfalusi was outed as a sexual predator less that one year after the revised edition was released and a reboot of the series was announced in 2019.

 

[Zaharoff]

Brian Keene

Keene, Brian - Little Silver Book Of Street Wise Stories

Wise authors view these “Little” books as an introduction to new readers.
At least, one feels Keene has done this, selecting very good, very choice stories.

“Dust”, which references Manhattan, September 11th, still carries a bite two decades on.

There also a SciFi gem in “The Two-Headed Alien Love Child”. A G-Man, working his own special brief, deals with interlopers, casual, careless, hit-n-run sorts. Read to the end for the sting.

“Bunnies In August” is a sorrowful paddle into guilt. Accidents, misdeeds, and the knowledge that even if catastrophes are not your fault, consequences may still leave one wounded.

Keene’s popular dealer of closure is given back-to-back slices in “I Am An Exit” and “This Is Not An Exit”. Recommend to read both together to stay in the mood.

Marriage on the rocks, accursed job, a life little more than a waste of space, poozie woozie is appalled at the miserable cell he has placed himself into. The closure guy is not about, and yet in “Without You” a typically American solution is nearby.

Santa Claus, mob hitmen, an alien deity? “The Siqquism Who Stole Christmas” throws these displaced sorts into the blender for a funny, if unmerry Yule yarn. Oh yeah, reindeer, too!

 

[Severini]

Michel Houellebecq - Lovecraft - Against the World, Against life

Poignant essay and very lucid. Full of passion and yet objective. Unfortunately, besides a few points regarding Lovecraft´s racism, the essay comes out as pretty obvious for the ones who already know the writer.

As a side note, the awareness of Lovecraft´s racism was the first and hardest disappointment I had with my so called 'heroes'.
It was the equivalent of knowing that one of your best friends talk shit behind your back.

At least the book made me go after other books by him. Just got Submission and Seretonine.

 

[miguel1984]

I finished Manu Larcenet's graphic novel adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. I was surprised McCarthy approved it, but it was worth it; the imagery is breathtaking.

 

[Severini]

Didn´t know there was another adaptation beside the movie. I bought the book really cheap (less than Us$ 1) but I am struggling to get into the book. Gave up a couple times. Will look for the graphic novel, thanks for the heads up!

 

[Zaharoff]

Evan Friss

Friss, Evan - The Bookshop: A History Of The American Bookstore

Sweeping from the very first one in Philadelphia, started by a young printer named Franklin.
Continuing through early colonial clusters in Boston and New York, even those that stocked banned writers such as Thomas Paine.
Mr Friss is quite upfront that he cannot include every bookshop, including your favorites.
Midway, the book reaches modern survivors such as the Strand, touching on genre specific fronts, even sidewalk vendors.
Before proceeding to more the questionable. “You’ve Got Mail” (a film I loathed) based on its counterpart, Barnes & Noble. Then the gorilla, Amazon.
Borders is mentioned, as is Waldonbooks, B Dalton, City Lights.

The plight of small bookshops mirrors that of small town merchants.
Growing up, Main Street in my hometown was bustling and vibrant. In the 1980’s, City Hall allowed a mall on the outskirts. Main Street began to perish. Years later, Walmart came, killing the mall and what was left of Main Street. In earlier times, merchants lived in the town, participated, and their revenues stayed in the town. Profits with corporate chains streamed out of the town.
Such was nationwide. Every small bookshop owner can relate.

Friss cannot mention all, but I will breathe a couple.
Scene Of The Crime, on Ventura Blvd then elsewhere, specializing in crime and mystery.
Dangerous Visions, sanctioned by Harlan Ellison, also on Ventura, carrying SciFi and fantasy.
Not to forget the strictly mail order shops. More than any, the one name I miss, and desperately wish was still active, is Common Reader.

This is a highly enjoyable book, although it left me conflicted. Perhaps guilty.
By and large, I do not shop at bookshops, and I purchase a lot of books.
Instead, I buy direct from small presses. No middleman, the publisher pockets any profit.
Decades ago, I made that choice and never looked back.
Main thing, keep buying books, keep reading.

 

[Zaharoff]

Chandler Brossard

Brossard, Chandler - Raging Joys, Sublime Violations

What is this? Midlife crisis? Evidence of substance overload?
About a decade after the Vietnam conflict ended, Brossard pitched his 2¢.

The initial chapter occurs on a cruise liner, where passengers obsess over sex.
Next section, a female sherpa and more sex. Sex and anatomy.

Should you hang with this, then by #6, he decides to satirize Vietnam vets. Satire is a mild word, since what he is actually dealing is sarcasm. For those with long memories, recall John Knowles and his thoughts about the protests of sarcasm.
Anyway, in #6, Brossard mocks the Vietnam vets, now stateside, still giddily raping and killing. This is a cheap shot as most of the US boys in Vietnam were drafted and never wanted to be there at all.

Chapter #8 may prove insufferable to non-history fanatics. Names roll out like a stultifying dirge. Dean Acheson, William Fulbright, Melvin Laird, Dick Helms, Dean Rusk, Henry Cabot Lodge, Ron Ziegler, Allen Dulles – John Foster Dulles. Enough? If you don’t know the names, you may miss the joke.

#15, Brossard tackles Kissenger. Now that was pretty funny, I must admit.
Otherwise, if you were born after 1962, this book will be an obscuro history farce.

I have enjoyed other Chandler Brossard books in the past. I enjoy and buy Corona \ Samizdat releases. This one, however, is a complete miss for me. It is already in the box of Salvation Army donations.
Oh yeah, the cover features penis art. Fitting, I suppose.

 

[Zaharoff]

Wormwood

Corelli, Marie - Wormwood

Gaston, young, successful, with an honorable future, is smitten with Pauline, still in her teens. She is perhaps too young, inexperienced in Life, games, mores, love. Nevertheless, she agrees to a betrothal because, well, because she does not know any better. Know that there is a difference between Mr. Right, and Mr. Right Now.
Until she comes across the real deal. Real love, the force that flutters the heart.
Gaston, reeling, quaffs absinthe, whereupon his fate and damnation are sealed.

A swooning novel of decay, dissolution, and the net of ruination cast wide, dragging others into despair.
Corelli’s tale is sordid, yet not cynical. Bordering on melodrama and preachiness throughout, without the unintentional camp of similar cautionary parables such as Reefer Madness.

If one were to draw parallels with modern decadence, modern addictions, those are evident.
Or one could speculate that species human has evolved less than an inch since our time in the trees, in the caves.

 

[Zaharoff]

Louise Brooks

Jaccard, Roland - Louise Brooks: Portrait Of An Anti-Star

One of those early books that helped fan the fame. When the original French edition was published in 1982, there were no home videos, and the superlative Barry Paris biography was a few years away.
This contains several of Brooksie’s articles, as well as dozens of photos from her own archives.
For newcomers, especially in 1986 (US edition), this and Lulu In Hollywood were essential for all Silent film buffs.
Glossy, perhaps superseded by later books (Paris and Cowie), this remains a must have for Louise fans.

 

[Zaharoff]

Dimitrij Kralj

Kralj, Dimitrij - The Lift

Essentially an absurdist, one-act play. Two men, trapped in an elevator, discuss their situation, and express thoughts of escape.
Midway, the reader is asked to devise an escape for the pair. Don’t just read helplessly, get involved!
Thus prodded, I did.
… The two men gaze upwards. Nothing.
– Well, that’s typical.
Abruptly, there is noise overhead. Suddenly, the ceiling hatch is violently yanked open.
– Who’s there? What’s going on?
A pair of blinding lights beam down on the passengers.
– Who’s up there?
From above, one can hear a garbled radio transmission and muffled voices. Then
– What are you two doing in there?
– We’re trapped! The lift has us stuck inside.
More unintelligible sounds above.
– Are you here to rescue us?
– Did you stop the lift yourself? Are you holding it?
– What are you talking about? We’re pressed every button to no avail.
– Look, we’re the police. There is an ongoing robbery down in the Casino. Had you been holding the lift, we had instructions to kill you. Goodbye.
– Wait! What about us? What are we supposed to do?
Muffled voices overhead. Then
– You can remain inside. Perhaps someone will come for you, perhaps the lift will resume. Or …
– Or what!
– There are metal rungs out here on the shaft. You can climb up to the roof, or climb down to the Casino, where there is an ongoing gunfight. Goodbye.
– Wait! What should we do?
– How should I know? You have free will. Use it.
Other voices repeat the phrase ‘free will’ amidst sardonic laughter.
Flashlights switch off, the police are heard descending.
The decision is now up to the lift occupants …

 

[Severini]

Gabrielle Wittkop - Necrophiliac.




Discovered this author on the youtube channel Plagued by Visions. Thanks, Juan!



Gabrielle Wittkop is a poet of decay. Lucian, a young handsome man, details on his journals what he does at night time. He devours and abuses bodies, not even caring about age, gender, status. The only concern is that they must NOT be alive.

From a housewife, pretty and clean to an old ugly virgin with a hairy pubis and a moustache to a man too heavy to be taken home to a baby (!). Afterwards, he dumps their bodies on the river Seine. That river may have as many corpses as the catacombs...