Writing Life

I had a quick thought about this last night before bed. Which writers made me want to write, both back when I was young and now that I’m actually a writer? Through their books, they’ve energized my passion for writing. They’ve shown me that books can have such an impact on a person, and I want to be in that fellowship. This list is, by definition, incomplete, but they represent some of the works that most touched me.

• Isaac Asimov (The Foundation Trilogy)
• Albert Camus (The Fall)
• Paul Bowles (The Sheltering Sky)
• Natsuo Kirino (Out)
• Kenzo Kitikata (Winter Sleep)
• John Steinbeck (The Grapes of Wrath)
• Mikhail Bulgakov (The Master and Margarita)
• Max Barry (Company)
• Marie Phillips (Gods Behaving Badly)

I stumbled across an interview with John Ajvide Lindqvist, the author of the novel Let the Right One In. When responding to a question of why he turned to writing horror stories, he said:

Yeah you could say that. I tried to write in other genres and also to write more conventional literature, but it caused me to start struggling terribly with the language, and I tried to behave like… well ’How would a REAL author write? Hmmm… probably like this…’ and I made these heavy, long sentences and it was very concious of style and very bad. And it wasn’t until I kind of allowed myself to try and write a horror story, this genre that I actually know and really love… It took me many years, what was I? 32 or something. When I finally tried writing this genre, it was the first time that I was writing and discovered, ’Good lord – this is EASY! I can do this. I know what’s going to happen next. It’s just about writing the story as effectively as possible. Not worry about the language or that it’s supposed to be literature. I’ll just try to throw in a story that’s as exciting as possible, and heartbreaking, and do it to the best of my ability.

Okay, it may sound like common sense but it is so nice to hear an author say this out loud. I’ve had the same dilemma, struggling to fit a specific genre or write like “a writer” (whatever the fuck that is). I’ve had Mr. Lindqvist revelation myself. But, I can’t stress it enough that it needs to be restated often, maybe before each time you sit down to write because doubt is the greatest killer of creativity.

I’m so glad I ran across this.

I finished reading Scott McClellan’s memoir: What Happened: Inside the Bush White and Washington’s Culture of Deception. This is my first political memoir of a recent event. Normally, I’d pick up a book written many years after the fact, letting distance provide some context. But, I just had to have this book as McClellan worked the media and blog circuit. As you may know, he was a loyal Bush supporter and fellow Texan who served as White House Press Secretary from July 2003 until April 2006.

The memoir focuses primarily on the selling and secrecy around the Iraq War and the outing of a CIA agent as payback for challenging the weapons of mass destruction (WMD) claim for the war. It touches ever so briefly on the political effects of Hurricane Katrina on the Bush presidency.
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Having just finished reading Robert Fagles’s translation of the Iliad, I remember why I’ve only read it twice before. During college, I twice read Robert Fitzgerald’s translation. His stilted language made a difficult book almost impenetrable. Even with the mastery of prose and poetry that Fagles brings, I don’t believe this work can be saved. The back cover of Fagles’s translation bills it as the world’s greatest war story. I do protest that and let me approach that in two parts.

Greatest story? It is slow and plodding, even though it starts crisply and ends wisely. The intervening books of slaughter and cataloging, while attempting to show the scale and scope of the Trojan battle, fail to keep me engaged. This epic could have been 1/4 the size, perhaps less. The book opens with “Rage– Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles…” However, after a brief display of his hubris and childish behavior, we barely see him in the next 16 chapters. The highlight of the story is the final chapter, where King Priam comes to the Greek camp to petition Achilles for the body of the King’s son, Hector. In this short section, humanity wells to the top, in the actions of Priam and partially with Achilles.

As for the Iliad being the greatest war story, the depiction of battles have been sanitized and glorified. Death is vicious, but quick; horrible, yet honorable; driven by gods, not chosen by men. War is seen as a means to an end, and that end is revenge or greed. If one wants to read a great war story, turn to Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front. That takes off the rose-colored glasses and adds chop to the wine dark seas.

If one is to read Homer, and I think one should, turn to the Odyssey, especially Fagles’s translation of it. There is a book that is the height of epic poetry. It is a good story, well-told, that bears many lessons for yesterday, today and tomorrow. As I’ve said in the past, the key to life is the journey itself, not the battles or end result.

Epilogue: Sadly, Robert Fagles has left us, so we must engage with him now through his works. And even though I didn’t enjoy the tale of the rage of Achilles, Fagles’s telling is phenomenal and without parallel.

I just wanted to share the cookbooks that I use most often. The first two are my favorite everyday cookbooks, though they can be used for special occasions as well. The last is for hearty and luscious special occasions.

• Lite and Luscious Cuisine of India, Madhu Gadia (1997): This is my staple Indian cookbook. Ms. Gadia is not just an excellent chef, she’s also a licensed dietician. She takes all kinds of Indian dishes and makes them easy to make (although prep time can be high in some cases) and extremely healthy. She cuts down on the use of oils and ghee (clarified butter), but never skimps on spice or flavor. If you want a great everyday cookbook that has vegetarian as well as meat dishes, check out this book. I swear by her chicken curry; alu gobhi; tandoori murgh; and baked fish with black pepper.
• Jacques Pépin’s Simple and Healthy Cooking (1994): Full of fantastic, healthy and simple to prepare meals, this is a staple for weekday cooking and contains plenty of special meals for friends and loved ones. My favorite recipes from this book are: catfish sauté with vegetable medley; hominy, cliantro and cumin stew; blackened swordfish; and curried scallops oriental.
• Jacques Pépin’s Table: The Complete Today’s Gourmet (1991): This is a fantastic book to pull out for that extra special dinner for two or special guests. You’ll probably use all of your pans, utensils and prep spaces, but the food is worth it. The dishes here are also pretty rich, as opposed to the other cookbooks on the list. My favorites are: melon in port wine; chicken chasseur; poulet au vin rouge; wine merchant steak; pommes persillade; and grapes and raisins in lime cookie cones.

I just finished reading Natalie Goldberg’s book on writing. I don’t know how the book ended up in my hands but now that I’m writing, I was intrigued. Overall, I was disappointed. Parts of the book I found classist and other parts bordered on racist. The book is part of Bantam’s New Age collection, so there’s a lot the author tries to convey in a spiritual/philosophical vein. However, her tone seems to conflict with the message she says she wants to convey. As for the book’s structure, I don’t think there was any. There was no flow between sections, no organization, no building upon previous lessons. This work should have been edited down by about 100 pages and forged into a coherent progression.

There are two things I’ll take away from this book that are incredibly useful. First, she gives four things you must do in order to be a writer and do writing: (1) keep your hand moving; (2) lose control; (3) be specific; and (4) don’t think. I liked these so much I printed them on an index card I keep in front of me while I write. Second, her advice to would-be writers: “If you want to write, write. This is your life. You are responsible for it. You will not live forever. Don’t wait” (p. 45).

Robert Fagles passed away last Wednesday, March 26th. For recent college students or classics lovers, you would know him from his work translating three books of the Western canon into beautiful contemporary poetry. When I was in high school, during the Dark Ages, I read the Odyssey. It was laborious to read and I never felt that I found the “epic” part of the poem. In college, I read the Iliad and several other translations of the Odyssey, as I went through my period as an English major and then a Classics major. I read Richard Lattimore, Robert Fitzgerald and Albert Cook’s translations of Homer’s works. While I grew to love these epics, it was hard work. I hoped that someday a translation would arrive that would make it accessible and exciting to readers, so that they too could enjoy and contemplate tales of war, hubris, wandering, love and honor.

In the 1990s, I heard about a new translation from Robert Fagles. Diane bought it for me for Christmas, one of the few things I actually knew I wanted (I’m usually so noncommittal and rarely give suggestions for gifts). When I cracked open the crisp hard cover, I was immediately drawn into a fantastic story. Fagles succeeded where I think Lattimore and Fitzgerald failed. Homer came alive and leapt off of the pages, making the story feel real and immediate. I flew through the book, even reading passages aloud to Diane. I compared some portions I particularly liked with other translations and really felt that Fagles captured the essence of the poem without losing the content and context. I even reread it a few years later.

Currently, I’m reading his Iliad. Interestingly enough, I think I unknowingly picked it up to read (out of my stack) on the day he died. I don’t think I’ll venture into his Virgil, but that’s a personal preference (I think Homer did it best and Virgil was a poor imitation of the former’s work). The only person I’d compare as a translator to Fagles is Seamus Healy. In particular, Healy’s translation of Beowolf that captured the story but made it accessible for a modern audience. But, for now, we have Robert Fagles fabulous works. I hope you might find a moment and give them a chance. They are definitely worth it, not for reading a “classic” but for reading a great story.

I picked up Paul Neilan’s Apathy and Other Small Victories a few months back. The title sounded great and a cover snippet tried to compare it to Camus, Bukowski and Office Space. Who wouldn’t love that? The book wasn’t all that, and I cared enough to warn others.

The cooler-than-thou main character never developed much rapport with reader, be it negative or positive. The scattershot style of telling the story that included consecutive sentences contradicting each other was cute at first but grew tiresome after the first twenty pages. It did, to be honest, remind me of conversations I’ve led, but I’ve never carried on such a spiel for the chronological duration of 230+ pages. I also felt the author went a little too far with his jokes about deaf folks. It crossed the line, in my opinion. If apathy is a “lack of interest, enthusiasm, or concern” then why even bother to read his words and why did he spend time writing it?

I’m such a political geek. I went to the Greek islands and Athens and took along Naftali Bendavid’s new book: The Thumpin’: How Rahm Emanuel and the Democrats Learned to Be Ruthless and Ended the Republican Revolution. It was published two days before we left for Greece and I picked it up and took it along. It was fun for the plane rides to and forth.

The book chronicles Rep. Rahm Emanuel (D-IL 05)’s term as head of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC, “D Triple C” or simply “D Trip”) during the 2006 election cycle. With rare inside access, Bendavid gives us insight into how this much-hated and much-loved politician helped win back a majority for Democrats in the U.S. House of Representatives. With great quotes and some “fly on the wall” scenes, the book is a quick read that moves from Rahm’s appointment in early 2005 until a few days after the November 2006 elections.

This book is a fun read, especially for insiders who played a role in this election cycle. Unfortunately, Bendavid glosses over a lot of detail about specific races and the tactics that Rahm used to select, or in many cases, un-select a Democratic challenger. While he spends a little time talking about the infamous Illinois 6th primary race between longtime Democrat Christine Cegelis and newcomer, but Iraq War veteran, Tammy Duckworth, he doesn’t cover other races such as Jerry McNerney (CA-11), Les Roberts (NY-24) and Eric Massa (NY-29). Granted, this book was an overview, but such a discussion would have gone a long way to balance out these historic elections.

Finally, I wanted to see an analysis of the implications of Emanuel’s strategy of picking sometimes very conservative Democrats in traditionally Republican enclaves. What does this say for the future of the Democratic Party in places like North Carolina’s 11th and Indiana’s 8th? Rahm picked conservative Democrats Heath Shuler and Brad Ellsworth to win these seats, and it’s hard to see either of these newly elected Congressman as Democrats. What about the 2008 election too? For that cycle, which we’re already in, Chris Van Hollen (D-MD 08) will be running the DCCC. In 2006, he was one of Rahm’s closest lieutenants. We shall see.

I just finished reading Jimmy Carter’s controversial book on the Palestine-Israel conflict. It’s both fascinating and accessible. Everyone should read it, no matter where they stand on this divisive issue. President Carter, responding to some of the vitriol that surrounded his book tour, said that we need to have a discussion and his book opens up space to have that discussion. I heartily agree.

Carter provides much needed historical and political context to the problem, covering the issue not only from the dominant Israeli / US point of view but also from Palestinians, surrounding Arab nations and his own personal intersection with the region through his faith, his presidency and his work with The Carter Center. In the conclusion, he writes “voices from Jerusalem dominate in our media, and most American citizens are unaware of circumstances in the occupied territories” (Carter 2006:209). This book helps bring other pieces of information and experience to the table.

A common theme throughout the book is Carter’s insistence that the United States needs to talk to both its friends and its supposed enemies. Diplomacy is paramount. While you surely can talk to your friends, it’s imperative that you reach out to people with whom you disagree. The U.S. did that with its deadliest enemy, the Soviet Union, but in recent years and under the George W. Bush administration, it has failed to practice this fundamental tenet of international relations. Carter writes, “A major impediment to progress is Washington’s strange policy that dialogue on controversial issues is a privilege to be extended only as a reward for subservient behavior and withheld from those who reject U.S. demands” (Carter 2006: 202-203).

He also writes about how the White House and U.S. Congress have been less than vocal in response to illegal Israeli actions, partly due to the immense power of the Israeli lobby in the United States. This influence is strengthened by its practice of silencing dissent by labeling it anti-semitic. Let’s just be clear here, opposing Israeli state policy is not anti-semitic in and of itself; just as opposing Iranian state policy is not anti-Islamic.

Very near the end of the book, Carter reflects back on a remark he made to the Israeli Knesset in 1979 that still rings true in 2007: “The people support a settlement. Political leaders are the obstacles to peace” (Carter 2006:211). He meant leaders on both sides as well as international actors. It is sad that almost thirty years have passed, countless lives have been lost, millions have become refugees, and still our leaders cannot sit down, talk and settle this problem. Let’s hope this book kicks the process in the butt and gets it moving once again.

Most have already heard that Kurt Vonnegut passed away last night. I was working through my political stuff before coming across it. It kind of knocked me back a bit. Here’s one of the authors I read in high school (which I know was a long time ago), but still, to hear that someone who’d put such interesting, and sometimes twisted, ideas into my head had died kind of shakes you a bit. I think I came to appreciate Slaughterhouse V many years after I’d read it. It was a fun story but also had some deep thoughts to it, and not in a Jack Handy type of way.

While reading the NY Times obit on Mr. Vonnegut, I was struck by this paragraph, on the 2nd web page of the article:

In Chicago, Mr. Vonnegut worked as a police reporter for the Chicago City News Bureau. He also studied for a master’s degree in anthropology at the University of Chicago, writing a thesis on “The Fluctuations Between Good and Evil in Simple Tales.” It was rejected unanimously by the faculty. (The university finally awarded him a degree almost a quarter of a century later, allowing him to use his novel “Cat’s Cradle” as his thesis.)

It sounded a bit like me and what I want to do. Before World War II, Vonnegut had gone to what was to become Carnegie Mellon University to study mechanical engineering. After war service, he then turned to the above quoted part of his life. I went to school for computer science, had a career in that and then returned to school for anthropology (an MA earned in 2003) over a decade later. While in politics now, writing has always appealed to me and I still want to move in that direction. Vonnegut, even in death, may be causing me to reevaluate yet again.

This is the third book by Kenzo Kitakata that I’ve read, the first two being Ashes and Winter Sleep. Translated by Paul Warham, this book is a fitting addition to Kitakata’s works in English. The hardboiled styling of this book is more in line with 1990s Hong Kong action films rather than Japanese novels, but it makes the book a fast and enjoyable roller coaster ride.

The Cage continues in the style set up in these previous books, with the focus on two main characters, Kazuya Takino and Detective Takagi. Takino, a former Yakuza who’s gone straight, struggles with the life he’s created and the world he thought he’d left behind. By rendering this gangster as a complex human being, Kitakata can deftly explore the various levels, neighborhoods, and relationships of contemporary Japanese society. The cage is a metaphor for the world that Takino has made for himself, and that he is aware of, but the novel also explores the cages that the other main characters have built around themselves, for better or for worse and knowingly or unknowingly.

I have to note that the best part of this trip started before we ever landed in Jamaica.  While flying in, Diane filled out our customs and immigration forms.  I was dead asleep, exhausted after happy hour on Friday and packing/shopping on Saturday: 4 of the shirts I wore in Jamaica I bought on Saturday, around 6:30 PM!

The best part was that in filling out my occupation on the immigration forms, Diane wrote “Writer”.  That was one of the best moments of my life.  I really was taken aback and also all warm and fuzzy.  I love my honey!

Jimmy Carter has a new op-ed in today’s Washington Post, responding to the critisism of his book Palestine Peace Not Apartheid. The harsh (and baseless) attacks on his book have ignored the situation he so clearly lays out and discusses. Many attacks have focused on his book’s title and knee-jerk support for Israel without ever listening to any other point of view. Let’s hope there’s movement forward on Palestine in 2007.

Finished reading this book Friday morning on my metro ride in to work. This was a great book for the metro since you could pick it up and put it down without losing any train of thought or end during a critical piece of analysis. Not a great book at all. It was cool, since the perspective was intriguing: French-born Moroccan adolescent girl growing up in poor suburbs around Paris with her Moroccan mother and absent father.

The timing of this book was good, given the riots last year in the suburbs of a nation that bases its national identity on liberté, egalitie, and fraternitiem, but seems to turn a blind eye on its large immigrant communities surrounding its largest cities, e.g. Paris and Marseilles. The book is also interesting due to its young author, herself a child of Algerian immigrants who grew up in the projects outside Paris.

Overall, not a great book, maybe not even a good book, but perhaps a necessary book. And, as noted above, it’s a quick read.

I just had to post this. I’m reading Faïza Guène’s Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow right now and just loved this snippet from page 38:

Nabil’s a nobody, a loser. He’s got acne and when he was in elementary school, almost every day at recess he got bullied into handing over his snack. A big fat victim. Me, I prefer heroes, like in the movies, the kind of guy girls dream about…Al Pacino, I’ll bet you nobody could take his snacks. Straight up, he’d pull out his semiautomatic and blow your thumb off, so you couldn’t suck it at night before you fell asleep. All done.

This was an amazing collection of articles edited by anthropologists Rebecca L. Stein and Ted Swedenburg. The 13 essays are broken up into four section, focusing on historical articulations, cinemas and cyberspace, the politics of music and regional and global circuits. With this collection, the authors sought to introduce a prime focus on popular culture when discussing politics and power in the Palestine-Israel situation. The authors seek to break away from traditional Palestinian-Israeli binaries and to crack open the mixing and heterogeneity of relations between and among these two groups. The editors also seek to reinscribe Israel within the Middle East, both geographically and politically (Stein & Swedenburg 2005: 11).

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I just love Jimmy Carter. Some say he’s the best ex-President there ever was. Time will tell, since Bill Clinton’s been doing amazing work with his foundation, especially with respect to negotiating cheaper AIDS drugs and other health issues.

On Good Morning, America, which I was watching while at the gym this morning, President Carter was talking about his newest book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid. His interviewer, Robin Roberts, was toeing the bipartisan U.S. party line that any criticism of Israeli policy is both wrong and antisemitic, no matter who says it and no matter what they say. Certainly there is antisemitism, certainly there are important security concerns for the sovereign state of Israel, but that cannot be the only lens through which to view the situation.

Carter deftly responded, noting that his experience in the region, U.S. policy, UN resolutions, and the majority of the Israeli public, all show that the current situation in Palestine is a colonial occupation and exploitation that cannot withstand the scrutiny of an informed observer.

For more on this story, see Raw Story piece. You can also see a short excerpt from Carter’s book, provided by ABC News.

Having read Of Mice and Men in high school and The Grapes of Wrath recently, I turned with delight to one of Steinbeck’s later novels, The Winter of our Discontent. It was a slow book to start, the pace was a bit uneven and stumbled a bit, but I did finish it last night before bed. The last one hundred pages flew by.

The story is told in first person, from the perspective of a man in New Baytown in the New England region. He is a proud man, an honest man, and one who’s current situation belies his long and proud family history as whalers and important men about town. Working as a clerk in a store, he takes life as it comes, remaining honest and faithful to his principles. But with pressure inside and from his family and peers, he decideds to embark on a short detour to his integrity. The ensuing story unwinds differently than expected, but still with a great deal of introspection.

The ending has a definite Hollywood feel about it, perhaps reflecting on Steinbeck’s time in the film industry. The book also contains lots of stereotypes and cardboard characters that was certainly not his style in the first two books I mentioned at the beginning of this entry. One could say it was a sign of the times, but this book was written in 1962 (and situated in 1960) and Steinbeck’s prior works from 20-30 years earlier didn’t have such limitations. The only fully drawn character is Ethan Allen Hawley, the narrator. Perhaps as a study in male psychology this novel excels, but as a piece of literature, it falls far short of his earlier works.

It’s customary to find the second novel of an acclaimed writer to be wanting. The highs of the first are seldom reached in the second work. In Melissa P’s case, this axiom rings true. While her first book, 100 Strokes of the Brush Before Bed, was an emotional burst and breath of reality, her second attempt is hardly worth the nice paper it’s printed on. It’s as though she went to a writing school after her first book and learned all the tricks of the trade and reproduced them without feeling, emotion, or talent. She vainly centers the book on herself and her own perception of fame that grew out of her first book. Sadly, the acknowledgments at the end of the story were the only part of the book that felt real, that conveyed any sort of emotion.