| November 3, 1999 The Persian Boy
by Mary Renault (1972). To put it plainly: this is the best book I have read in a
very long time. It's the story of Alexander the Great from the age of 20 to the end
of his life, as told by his lover Bagoas. The characters are intriguing; Alexander,
in particular, just breaks my heart. And Bagoas' emotions and thoughts are so real
-- anyone who's ever had to smile through jealousy will recognize themselves in this
character.
How is it possible that people who lived so long ago can seem
so alive? The answer is that Mary Renault is a very accomplished writer of
history (not just historical fiction). This book is enough to make me want to read
all of her others. I know I can't do it justice in a review; suffice it to say that
reading it made me want to run out and buy copies for the people I love. You can't
miss with this one.
Selected
Poems by Margaret Atwood (1965-1986). These poems are actually
collected in two books: Selected Poems 1965-1975, and Selected Poems
1976-1986.
I have only recently come to appreciate poetry, I'll admit.
After all those years of college and grad school, I finally found some I really
liked. Atwood has a way of cutting to the bone with her words, and this style works
well to express human relationships between parents and children, lovers, friends, and
enemies. I'm particularly fond of Songs of the Transformed, a series of
poems that includes "Pig song," "Rat song," "Song of the
worms" and "Song of the fox." Another favorite is Variations on the Word Sleep.
A Home at the
End of the World by Michael Cunningham (1990). This book is a study of
four interrelated lives, and it follows these four characters as they deal with the big
questions: where do you get love? What is a home? What does it mean to have a
life, or a self? Cunningham's extended character study shows that he is a very
perceptive writer, and even when his characters aren't completely likeable, they're always
fascinating.
While Cunningham has not tried to fit the book to the
constraints of a traditional plot, he has produced a very cohesive story of tragedy and
triumph. It's about the tragedies in every life, tragedies both large and small:
missed opportunities, undeveloped potential, lives cut short. It's also about
triumphs that don't erase the past, but do provide new directions for the future. A
thought-provoking, beautiful, sad book.
One of Our Own
by Diane Salvatore (1999). This book, by the writer of Benediction,
tells the story of one woman's difficult passage into adulthood. Lela Johns has
spent ten years haunted by a relationship and a decision; although she's a successful
teacher, guilt and fear have stopped her from achieving personal satisfaction. Her
memories are brought to a head when a student in one of her English classes comes to her
for advice. Through her response to this student, Lela is drawn into a bitter public
debate, which finally allows her to take charge of her memories and her future.
As she did in Benediction, Salvatore captures the wonder and
the uncertainty of high school, and handles some interesting adult experiences as well.
My only criticism of this book is the editing; I saw lots of silly mistakes that
shouldn't be there, even in a book published by a small press.
Barrel Fever
by David Sedaris (1994). Another strangely compelling collection by David Sedaris,
in much the same vein as Naked (which I thoroughly enjoyed). This
book includes short stories as well as a few of his signature essays, allowing Sedaris to
take on bizarre (even sick) new personae. Yet the essays, the stories he
tells of his own life, are often even stranger than his fiction.
I believe my favorite piece in this book is Sedaris' detailed
account of his stint as a Christmas elf at Macy's. "SantaLand Diaries" exposes
the seamy underbelly and the forced gaiety of the holidays. It also made me laugh so
hard I thought I'd wet my pants. |
