The White Guard review

Mikhail Bulgakov is one of my favorite authors, and this book has been on my reading list for far too long. I’ve had a copy of it for years, albeit a copy in the original Russian. I’m somewhat ashamed of the fact that I’ve allowed my Russian skills to languish to the point that I had to purchase an English translation in order to finally read The White Guard, but a little shame should never stand in the way of a worthwhile read! This story was known more widely in its play form than as a book (Stalin was said to have seen the play 15 times), just as Bulgakov was known better as a playwright than as an author, due to the suppression of his fiction by Soviet censorship. Before he was known as a playwright in Moscow he was a doctor who served in the White Army and specialized in the treatment of venereal diseases in Kiev. Likewise the character Alexei Turbin is a doctor with the same specialty who is also involved in the White resistance. The White Guard is largely biographical, as the Turbin family occupies the same apartment where the Bulgakov family lived and Mikhail practiced. The seven Bulgakov siblings are reduced to three Turbins, Alexei, Elena, and Nikolka, and it is through their experiences that we see the Socialist siege of Kiev during the winter of 1918-1919. During the Civil War that followed the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917 Kiev was occupied by the German army, the Whites or monarchists, the Socialists, and the Bolsheviks. The White Guard aptly and accurately depicts the upheaval and confusion that reigned in Kiev during this period. Bulgakov left Kiev and medicine for Moscow and literature in 1921. Through his departure from Kiev we are able to re-visit it nearly a century later in the pages of The White Guard. Art is the ultimate victory of resistance.

The Book Catalog Scourge

I love books. I enjoy browsing through bookstores with tens of thousands of books on their shelves. Why is it then that I dread looking through book catalogs? It doesn’t matter if it is small or large (although some of the voluminous distributor catalogs are especially heinous), I just can’t get excited about going through a book catalog. Taking something you love and turning it into a chore is a fate worse than death. Hyperbole? Come look at the ever-growing stack of catalogs on my desk before you pronounce judgment. I like my sales reps, but I don’t care for their catalogs. In only 20 work days this month I have 12 rep appointments scheduled (two being two-part appointments because the reps had so many catalogs to show me). That is going overboard in my opinion, yet it says nothing of the number of catalogs that show up in the mail daily. I figure I have to humor a sales rep who travels here by reviewing each and every one of their lines, but I have no obligation to a catalog without a rep! I’ve looked through so many catalogs recently I can’t recall which titles are coming out from what press. I think that is the reason that the only books that have made any impression on me this season are things like Obamamania!: The English Language, Barackified, Pets with Tourette’s, and Stuff White People Like: it helps me remember that looking at books should be fun! If the publishing houses would send that reminder to their own marketing departments, we might see some tolerable catalogs in the near future. Online catalogs as elucidated by Arsen Kashkashian in his blog posted on June 10th would be even better.

Child 44 review

I’m not typically drawn to thrillers, with their implausible twists and too convenient coincidences, but Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith has something going for it besides publicity: it’s set in Stalin’s Soviet Union. As an American author who has studied Russian and plans to write a novel about the siege of Stalingrad, I was curious to see how Smith, a British screenwriter close to my age, handled a story with a similar setting. Loosely based on the actual serial killings committed by Andrei Chikatilo, Child 44 reads like a punch to the gut. It begins with the inhumane conditions inflicted by the famine that ravaged Ukraine, the Soviet Union’s bread basket, in the 1930’s, and doesn’t let up from there. This is a relentless book. The climate is relentless, the system is relentless, the killer and his pursuer are relentless, as is the pursuit of the pursuer, a man who becomes a target of the state security force he once served. Smith’s depictions of the treatment of the victims of the system and the victims of the murderer are also relentless. As I read I was waiting for Smith to address Stalin’s death in March, 1953, and he did not disappoint in that aspect, but I did find his occasional use of Russian words in the text to be a distraction rather than an addition. True to the thriller form, this book does have its coincidences which allow for a tidy finish to the story, but it is a satisfying conclusion nonetheless. I recommend reading the book before the Ridley Scott film comes out!

Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians review

I gave Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians by Brandon Sanderson to my son for Christmas and recently had the chance to read it myself. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading Brandon’s adult fiction and was curious to see how he would adapt his style for children’s literature. The pacing and descriptions are appropriate for his 13-year-old narrator, but his hallmark originality is still in tact! Alcatraz (the narrator) goes to great lengths to stress that he is not a nice person and proves it with some highly amusing asides about the cruelty of writers. “Cruel Writers Versus Evil Librarians” doesn’t have the same ring to it, but it does raise some intriguing conjectures! In addition to being named for a prison (I won’t give away the explanation given for that), Alcatraz is also unique in that he has the ability to spontaneously break things. When he turns 13 and events unfold rapidly, revealing his true identity, he learns that his ability is a highly regarded Talent, as are being late, tripping, and speaking gibberish, among others! Alcatraz also learns that an evil cult of Librarians has been hiding the truth about the world by controlling the knowledge disseminated about it. Their reach is so extensive they have even concealed continents! In order to stop them from gaining even more power Alcatraz must infiltrate their library headquarters to recover the inheritance that was stolen from him. Full of humor and innovation, this book really speaks to kids and adults who refuse to grow up alike!

In Cold Blood review

I went from a book about fictional multiple murderers to a non-fiction one: In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. I figure since it still makes sense to read books from the last century, it must still make sense to write reviews of them as well. This is an exceptionally thorough and even-handed recounting of the shocking murders of four members of the Clutter family in their Kansas ranch house in 1959. I found it so comprehensive, in fact, that I recommended it to my wife, who has a degree in criminal justice. One may find it hard to believe that a book about ruthless murders can be beautiful written, but Capote had the uncanny ability to do just that. I was left with the impression not of the shooting deaths of the family, nor the hanging deaths of the two killers, but of the breeze in the wheat fields that surrounded Holcomb, Kansas. In that sense, the title doesn’t fit the book even if it does fit the crime described therein.

Quick and Dirty

I’m afraid I must confess that I succumbed to temptation; an alluring alternative was available, and I crumbled. I set aside The Golden Bough and picked up Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk. Back when my friend Ryan and I produced a ‘zine we called Out.Rage.Us, I thought I’d be clever and name drop this book in my mission statement without actually reading it first. Turns out I may not have realized just how clever I was; one of the themes of Lullaby descries the proliferation of mass media and the constant barrage of information and noise in our degraded culture. Not a bad tie-in for our ‘zine after all!

I must admit that it made me feel guilty about listening to my iPod while reading on the commuter train, though. I would not have felt guilty about using the culling song on the passenger seated across from me who removed his shoes and stretched his legs out so that his holey-stockinged feet repeatedly bumped mine, however! He would have made headlines as the first person to die on the new FrontRunner train, and my personal space would have remained inviolate! The narrator of Lullaby, a journalist who uses the nom de plume Carl Streator, utilizes the culling song (an old African lullaby reprinted in a book of poems from around the world) to remedy just this sort of daily inconvenience.

Reading Lullaby is an experience similar to the carnival rides favored by one of its’ characters: it’s disorienting, exhilarating, fast, and it leaves you a touch queasy afterwards. I enjoyed the first half of the book more than the later half, so I’ll take that as a warning to steer clear of Haunted, but I’m sure I’ll read more Palahniuk, prior to making references to him, preferably!