The woods are lovely, dark and deep,But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.
Emily Carroll’s illustrated book Through the Woods came into my life just at the right time. Well, any time would be great, but I’m particularly interested in the uncanny and what spooks us for a few projects I’m working on.
Besides the engrossing illustrations, Carroll captures the straightforwardness of language that, even though it might appear simple, is in fact hiding the monster that waits beneath our beds ready to pull us by the leg. This book has teeth; large, gnashing teeth ready to eat the characters up.
There are five complete stories in the book and like many of the Grimm fairy tales before it, concern themselves with children protagonist and/or the invasion of the home from an uncanny force. The English name “fairy tales” always seems misleading. In German, these types of stories are labeled Kinder-und Hausmärchen, or children and house stories/tales. Not as fanciful sounding, but more correct.
The stories in Through the Woods do not have happy endings and have not been Disneyfied. It is hard to pick a favorite, but perhaps, if I had a huntsman’s axe pointed at my head, I would choose “A Lady’s Hands Are Cold.” A young wife joins her husband at his expansive home and is haunted by knocking coming through the walls. It’s a bit of a mix of Edgar Allan Poe and Rebecca.
Even though Carroll clearly has a style, she gives each story its own unique look and color scheme. They do not blend together, but reflect well on the story (in words) being told.
It was fortuitous that I finished this book and then the following night–with the lights turned off, of course–that I watched the film Stoker. I’ve been meaning to see it ever since it was released, but I have only now watched it. It clearly was inspired by Hitchcock films and Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula. An uncanny presence (who doesn’t eat food) comes into the home. The film utilizes style, and the layering of images and scenes, overlapping events allude to a sinister unease. I enjoyed the film. Although, I absolutely did not like the final scene. Has anyone else seen this movie? I think the song used over that bit was totally ill-fit and knocked me out of sync with the rest of the film.
Anywho, it was an interesting pairing. I’m glad I finally read Through the Woods. It made 2014 a more interesting publishing year than it was.
This book is best read at night before you go to sleep with only a single nightlight or book light. One of the stories is available on the author’s website, along with further stories not collected in the book.
Based on Philip K. Dick’s award-winning novel, and executive produced by Ridley Scott (Blade Runner), The Man in the High Castle explores what it would be like if the Allied Powers had lost WWII, and Japan and Germany ruled the United States. Starring Rufus Sewell (John Adams), Luke Kleintank (Pretty Little Liars) and Alexa Davalos (Mob City).
I watched it and liked what I saw. As a PKD fan, I hope they are able to make further episodes. Viewers in the US, UK, and Germany can watch it for free! Has anyone else watched it?
Perhaps, I am in the minority, but 2014 didn’t smack me as a great year for novels. There were a few that were personal favorites (most notably The Fever), but there were far more disappointments. I am a bit bummed that I let Julie Schumacher’s novel Dear Committee Members wait till four months after publication, but I am so happy that I finally read it and at an addicting speed, no less.
This novel will be especially appreciated by those who have swam through the sludge that is academic bureaucracy (and also anyone seeking out employment where references are required). The book is told entirely in the form of Letters of Recommendation, or LOR, written by a technophobic, vain and unpleasant professor of creative writing and literature at a university in Minnesota. The novel has all the components to steal my heart.*
Professor Jason Fitger has written over 1,300 LOR, a process that seems to be the primary reason for not penning a new book in more than half a decade (I’m not even sure when he would have to time to teach the classes he mentions). The letters he writes are funny, revealing, self-involved, and entirely inappropriate for so many reasons. Readers will love this book, but especially those who have had to deal with the ridiculous requirement of LOR.
Not only is Professor Fitger penning LOR for academic programs, colleagues’ promotions, etc., but also for his students who are applying for employment at RV parks, produce factories, and technology firms.
Over the school year, Fitger is one of the lone professors who has remained behind in the building housing the English department, which is undergoing vast (and crumbling) renovations. As a former English major, I feel it’s my duty to note the parallel between the department’s physical shambles and the never-ending breakdown of relationships Fitger has in his own life: his ex-wife and former girlfriend have formed a sort of alliance against him, former colleagues deny requests for assistance, and the majority of everyone else is aware of his membership in the pompous ass club.
The novel is, in short, hilarious. It is attuned to what is happening to liberal arts departments, the shunting aside of any course of study that is not part of STEM. It is also a fine critique to the obscene behavior universities deploy so they do not have to pay professor much of anything (employing mostly underpaid and overworked adjuncts, so as to refrain from paying out benefits and salaries).
Shall I dare to say that Dear Committee Members is genius? I shall. (It’s entirely unfortunate how this term–along, with epic, awesome, unbelievable-is splashed upon every article headline these days, but I will refrain from further curmudgeonry, lest I sound too much like Professor Fitger). I really loved this book and in fact, I finished it in a single day.
*I am a sucker for epistolary novels; I’m looking at you, Dracula.
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been knee-deep in books that can be labelled in the true crime genre. I’m generally not an aficionado of murder as entertainment (the sensationalize plots, bad acting, and terrible cop lingo of police procedurals on television, which make me want to gag with a spoon). Yet, what has drawn me to a few of these titles has been more about the storytelling and craftsmanship. For me, it’s less about the gruesome, vial acts that have occurred, but more how the writer chooses to unfold them.
This began with The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, which discusses a mid-19th Century crime and the subsequent investigation during the early days of organized police deduction. I carried on with John Safran’s God’ll Cut You Down, whose voice and point of view is very crucial to the storytelling. Safran is an Australian who goes to Mississippi in the aftermath of an odd crime. In the mysterypod podcast, John Safran discusses his approach to writing his book and how it was not as clear cut as one would have hoped.
My ears perked up when he told the host that he didn’t consider himself a journalist but a storyteller. Safran, too, has a six-part podcast that is worth a listen. It’s titled True Crime and he discusses with famous true crime writers the approach they’ve taken when writing such books. In episode 4, he chats with Joe McGinniss who wrote the magnum opus of crime books, Fatal Vision, which in itself is a master class in how to unravel information through a timeline.
I hope to wind down from crime books soon (honestly, my threshold for debauchery and violence is being tested). I’ve just finished Richard Lloyd Parry’s People Who Eat Darkness. In one word, it was stunning. It was stunning in the complexity of the world it created (Roppongi, a Tokyo district known for its night life), the people who lurk through it, and the “characters” (I use this word as a replacement for the actual real people portrayed). The people are complicated; like Safran’s book, nothing is quite so clear as we would like it to be and like Fatal Vision, answers are not satisfactorily answered like in an Agatha Christie novel.
The crime is brutal and inhuman. If a reader can move past that and read the book for its storytelling, a writer can learn a lot from Parry and the others listed above. They have all moved past the sensationalism of the crime itself and focus on the people, the order of invents, and the style of their writing.
Because I’m currently working on short stories that toe the lines of horror, the uncanny, suspense, and unnerving, when to reveal or withhold are very important. Letting go of too much at one time can undermined the atmosphere and story.
I have a few more on my docket, but these, like The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, are from events of years past. There is something about reading about contemporary crimes (let’s say last sixty or so years) that make these books particularly uncomfortable.
True crime can be a hard subject; I found In Cold Blood to be highly difficult to read when I read it six or seven years ago and I’m at my breaking point when it comes to anything Jack the Ripper related. Sometimes, cloaking true events in the guise of a novel can make it a little bit easier to deal with as is the case of the completely gripping The Murder Farm.
Does anyone else read these kinds of books? And if so, what do you make of them? Are they guilty pleasure imbibed in when you’re at an airport bookstore or go to reads when they’re published? It’s definitely been an interesting foray into non-fiction for a while. A different kind of reading experience for sure.
I am completely obsessed with the Serial podcast. I am a big fan of This American Life and general audiobookery (my iphone is begging for reprieve from anymore downloads). I especially listen to audio over reading books when I travel and since I was abroad for a couple of months, my iphone was really proving itself. I started to listen to Serial when I was in Austria for three weeks and had no idea that it was such a huge hit back in the States, but then I saw an article in Die Zeit (a large German newspaper) about the podcast and finally realized how hip everyone was to it. There is one episode left, which I am anxiously awaiting.
Last night, I stumbled upon–dare I say it–a completely interesting Buzzfeed article: 29 True Crime Books Fans Of “Serial” Should Read. Although, I generally avoid all things list and Buzzfeed, this one was actually good. I’ve only read a couple on the list, but the compilation got my TBR list kicking. Have you read any of these? Any to recommend?
December is upon us. I usually take this time to read a book of my choosing. I’m usually swamped with galleys for review here and for the articles I separately write for publications (as I type this, I have a few physical and digital ARCs giving me the hard stare). The past few years, however, I’ve decided to put everything aside for part of December and just read what I want. This usually takes the form of a classic. I’m changing it up this year and going from one book to THREE! I shall not pick up anything else while I’m reading my winter reads. In the next days, I’ll finish up any obligatory books and then I’ll be good to go. Here are my choices in planned order of reading.
2. Magellan. I feel like I’ve been out of the Stefan Zweig loop, but during a recent three week visit to Vienna in October, a friend said this was his favorite.
3. Burial Rites. Ach! Am I possibly the only person who hasn’t read this?! I picked it for $2.99 during a flash sale when it was first released and it’s been taunting me ever since.
Do you have books ready to go for winter?
Wowzer. I’ve never read Lauren Beukes work before. I’ve been a bit disappointed in myself that I wasn’t able to squeeze The Shining Girls into my reading schedule when it was initially released, but after finishing up Broken Monsters, I will certainly have to get it in the new year.
I must admit that I was intrigued by Broken Monsters when I first read the synopsis; it had a very True Detective quality about it (minus the Lone Star beer and interrogation room philosophizing).
Detroit. Present day. The lifeless body of a missing eleven-year-old boy has been found. However, the upper part of his body has been fused to the lower half of a deer. This heinous crime is just part of the ruined remains of Detroit, a city which has obviously seen better days. Most people are gone and the buildings that remain are all broken.
The central point of the novel is the crime (and the subsequent murders carried out by a serial killer). The novel is constructed by alternating short chapters from various characters’ points of view: Detective Gabi Versado, her fifteen-year-old daughter Layla who seems to be moonlighting as Chris Hansen on To Catch a Predator, the washed up journalist Jonno who moves to Detroit in hopes of utilizing the internet for his big break, among others.
At first, I was unsure how all of the POVs related, but as the narrative progressed, their stories intertwined until they all start to overlap into each others’ lives. Besides Detective Versado, once her daughter’s narrative started to roll, I found myself loving her spunky, take-no-prisoners attitude.
About halfway through, I thought that Broken Monsters would be another run-of-the-mill cop drama (there was even grumpy police lingo and macho doughnut grubbing detectives). I would like to believe that Beukes was just turning around our perceptions of genre fiction.
The final pièce de résistance was a complete loopy, wild ride. I was properly anxious–dare I say uncomfortable. It was successfully treading into horror territory. I had that feeling of I must know what’s gonna happen. I must finish!
So, I’ve broken my ban on acquiring any more books for the next two months until I finish up my stack of galleys and the two books designated as my own “winter big reads” and checked out The Shining Girls from the library. I couldn’t help it! Has anyone else read it or Broken Monsters?
I found an interesting short video where Lauren Beukes talks about violence against women and they way it is often fictitiously portrayed.
I just threw a request up on Twitter, but I thought I would also mine your eclectic minds and tastes for suggestions. I’m in search of interesting reads–specifically, in the public domain. As much as we all love our Austens and Eliots and insert favorite dead philosopher here, I am on an excavation for those that most of us have overlooked.
I was hoping to review this book before Halloween in case anyone was interested in an off the beaten path sort of read, but, alas, like many hopes, it had to be altered, changed, and delayed. Regardless, I hope everyone was able to squeeze in a ghostly story or two, or perhaps, a movie that makes you hear bumps in the night. Sadly, I was taken with a stupid cold on Friday (no doubt, from all of my traveling and little sleeping) and also, Halloween isn’t really noticed at all here in Berlin. But enough of that and more of the supernatural…
The Supernatural Enhancements is a send-up to classic ghost stories and haunted houses; it’s also a cousin to the once popular “locked door” mysteries. The novel is a combination of fragments–epistles, notes, recorded conversations, video, etc.–and the majority, if not all, of the action takes place within the uneasy walls of Axton House, a large estate in Point Bless, Virginia. After the untimely deaths of the previous owners (the most recent taking a swan dive out of the window), a second cousin twice removed from Europe only identified as A. shows up after the house is bequeathed to him. He is accompanied by a mute Irish teenager named Niamh, who hastily scrawls her thoughts and exclamations onto a notepad, which is presented throughout the pieced together narrative (however, I must admit, these two characters had me rolling my eyes at the beginning, because they were dangerously close to being too cool hipster types; this feeling didn’t completely pass, either).
The novel has a humor about it. The author and the story are well aware of the history of haunted house novels before it and is curiously investigating it in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way.
A: I…I’ve been having some rough nights.
Strückner: Waking up screaming?
A: A couple times.
Strückner: Going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and seeing things?
A: Okay, okay, I see the pattern.
As A. and Niamh continue to live in the house, hoping to identify why the previous owner offed himself, strange occurrences take place and a bigger mystery becomes apparent. I must admit that somewhere in the middle, the once quick and addicting page-turning did become a little tedious. The Supernatural Enhancements would have been served better by tighter editing. There were continuous pages of nothing–meaning, video and audio recording transcripts that offered absolutely no propulsion to the story. Also, the ending did become a bit confusing. Proverbially, I lost the plot. In a way, Cantero was trying to tie up loose ends, but it really didn’t explain the engaging pages he had going for the majority of the book.
Regardless, I would still recommend The Supernatural Enhancements. I’m truly a sucker for epistolary/fragment novels (re: Dracula). Has anyone else read this book? Perhaps, you’ve made better sense of the ending!