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- The Chronicler, A.E. van Vogt
- Destiny Times Three, Fritz Leiber
- The Crucible of Power, Jack Williamson
- But Without Horns, Norvell W. Page
- Crisis in Utopia, Norman L. Knight
The books I intend to read, or think I might read, are distributed into four piles.
The first pile is small, it consists of the books I am currently reading. It is composed of two to three books. There is always a novel and a non-fiction work, which are occasionally supplemented with a collection of short stories. It may take a month to six weeks to finish the short stories because I only read them, a couple of stories at a time, between novels.
The second pile—books to be read immediately—is made up of two stacks of about five books each. One stack is fiction. The other non-fiction. When all the fiction has been read I start a new stack. I do the same with non-fiction. These short stacks are made up of both current releases and older books. For example, the current stack of fiction was comprised of George Pelecanos’ The Big Blowdown, The Two Minute Rule by Robert Crais, The Last Kingdom by Bernard Cornwell, T. Jefferson Parker’s California Girl, The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, Louise Erdrich’s Tracks and The Music of Chance written by Paul Auster in 1990.
Actually, The Two Minute Rule was not part of the original stack, but when it arrived, late this week, it went to the top of the pile. That’s what I’m reading now. The Big Blowdown and Tracks were finished this past week.
The third pile is books I’ve recently purchased. Most of these books will find their way into the second pile, those books I plan to read immediately. Some, through neglect or lack of interest, will slip into the fourth pile—books I plan to get around to reading some day.
Books in this fourth pile can be promoted immediately into pile two. Some sit on the shelf for months. Three works by Patrick O’Brian are there. Two by Amy Tan. Gordon Parks is represented. Rick Bass. T.C. Boyle, John Lawton and Richard Ford.
There’s rarely uncertainty about what I will read next. A current release will grab my attention. Certain authors always go directly to the short list—Michael Connelly, Richard Russo, Ian McEwan, Cormac McCarthy, Ian Rankin. Non-fiction is usually a current release like Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Team of Rivals or At Canaan’s Edge by Taylor Branch. Non-fiction selections tend to be histories or biographies with the occasional memoir tossed in.
Friends will make suggestions. I almost always try to read a book if a friend asks. Such concessions always have mixed results, but for every The Time Traveler’s Wife, there is a The Zanzibar Chest.
The voice of the American Indian, written with all the power and richness that poetry can convey, inhabits this book. Tracks is Louise Erdrich’s fourth book; of the books preceding it, two were novels, the first, Jacklight, was a collection of poetry. And it is as a poet that Erdrich establishes herself as a novelist.
Both her previous novels, Love Medicine and The Beet Queen, hinted at Erdrich’s talent as a writer. In Tracks her talent—to breathe life into characters, to establish a sense of place and to create a narrative filled with subtlety and tension—emerges fully formed.
By focusing on the lives of a handful of Chippewa’s early in the 20th Century, Erdrich deftly charts the slow, but certain erosion of Indian culture. The old beliefs cannot stand before the greed and the machinery, or even the good intentions, of the white man.
Erdrich’s strength is the subtlety with which she traces the Chippewa’s loss of land, pride and sense of self. She does not preach or hector the reader. Instead, she traces the slowly disintegrating lives of people we have come to care about. Ultimately, sadly, the Chippewa betray one another, completing the work the white man started.
Tracks is a lyrical book of great pain, sadness and regret. It is a novel written by a poet who understands the old ways of the Chippewa.
I do recommend The Sea -- Banville's a talented writer and the book is a quick read but weighty and moving nonetheless.
I quite enjoyed A Slight Trick of The Mind despite Cullin's occasionally clunky dialogue, which perhaps owes something to the fact that he's American. Still, if you are a Sherlock Holmes fan, I recommend it.
I also recently finished The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald. I find Sebald's writing (in translation) to be beautiful and moving like nothing else I've read. But he is definitely an aquired taste, and I seem to recall that Austerlitz didn't do much for you, so you'll probably want to skip this one.
Just started The Accidental, which I am enjoying very much.
The Washington Post reports today that the PEN/Faulkner Foundation will announce later today that E.L. Doctorow has won its 2006 fiction award for his novel "The March." It is the second PEN/Faulkner award for Doctorow, who won in 1990 for "Billy Bathgate."
The other finalists were:
April, 2003. That’s when I was introduced to the novels of D.C. writer George Pelecanos. The book, his sixth, was The Sweet Forever. I read one more Pelcanos book that year, three more the next. His work has been an enduring passion since.
At the end of 2005, and into the first two months of this year, I set out to acquaint myself with Pelecanos’ early books. His first three books were entertaining, but imperfect. Many of the elements that would become his trademark were there, but those elements had not yet coalesced into a seamless whole.
That happened in his fourth book, Down By The River Where The Dead Men Go. Before that book, “I was learning to be a writer,” Pelecanos told me at a recent book signing. In Down By The River everything falls into place. His dream of becoming a writer is realized.
In his fifth book, The Big Blowdown, Pelecanos emerges as a master of his craft. The characters are vivid and fully realized, the pace is breathtaking and the atmosphere palpable—the pages reek of cigarettes, cheap booze, cheaper perfume and illicit sex. Automobiles, music and the City of Washington, D.C., always graphically drawn in Pelecanos’ writing, manifest themselves as elements vital to Pelecanos’ work.
Pelecanos ranks with Michael Connelly, Ian Rankin and Robert Crais as one of the leading practitioners of the thriller today.
14. Purity of Blood, Arturo Perez-Reverte. Fiction, 2-15, pp. 267
15. Christopher Marlowe, Poet & Spy, Park
I started Park Honan’s Christopher Marlowe Poet & Spy on January 29 and finished it February 19. That’s an average of 16 pages a day, which is about all I could read in a single sitting.
Purity of Blood is the second in Perez-Reverte’s series set in Spain during the Inquisition's reign of terror
Don DeLillo’s Underworld was a lyrical, sometimes difficult book. The Body Artist is simply difficult. DeLillo, like Ishiguro, is extremely talented, but wildly uneven.
My 11th book of 2006 was Pete Dexter’s first, God’s Pocket. Dexter is a terrific writer; one of my favorites. Think Elmore Leonard with an edge.
God’s Pocket was better than I had anticipated. It is one of those books that doesn’t go where you think it will. The narrative begins focused on a couple of characters and only later do you realize they’ve dropped from the story, only to re-appear near the conclusion.
Humor is an unexpected bonus in God’s Pocket. In that sense this novel reminds me of something by Carl Hiaasen.
Dexter has written six novels. I especially recommend God’s Pocket, Deadwood,
Avol’s Bookstores draws my top recommendation. I’ve been to Avol’s twice and twice come away with some very nice books. Avol’s is actually a combination of two stores; the first featuring more recent books, the second a small but nice selection of antiquarian books. Notable among the antiquarian books is the selection of science fiction offerings and the works of August Derleth, a local boy made good. The books in Avol’s are notable for their condition. I especially like bookstores that offer a broad selection of used books that are bright and clean.
That’s not a claim that can be made by Shakespeare’s books, just a few yards from the State Capitol. I thinks there are books to be found here, but there’s a lot of shabby later printings too. This is the sort of store that awards a patient shopper. It’s notable for its non-fiction selection. I thought its fiction offerings were poor. The books in all the glass cases are probably worth some attention, but I didn’t have the time. I understand dealers need to protect their books from shoplifters, but it is off-putting to have to disturb the lone sleepy clerk to open every case. I feel as if I should buy something after I’ve disturbed the clerk. In this instance, feelings did not translate into action.
Both shops are located just off State Street, which runs from the Capitol to the University of Wisconsin. It's a pleasant street for a stroll, even in February, with lots of restaurants and non-book shops to compete for your attention.
9. Down by the River Where the Dead Men Go, George Pelecanos. Thriller, 1-29, pp. 234
10. The Crazed, Ha Jin. Fiction, 2-3, pp. 323
Down by the River Where the Dead Men Go is Pelecanos' fourth book. It's the book where everything falls into place for Pelecanos as a writer. Everything that I enjoy about his current works--the atmosphere, the masterful pacing and the vivid characters--can be found in Down by the River.
The Crazed is interesting, but only mildly so. It is not as skillfully rendered as The Bridegroom or War Trash.