[At the end of each month, Aaron surveys the comics he read, celebrates the best, considers the rest, and takes stock of what it means to be a contemporary comic fan. Follow "The State of My Pull List" here.]
Usually it isn’t too difficult for me to pick this column’s spotlight book. I read a healthy stack of books every month, and while I enjoy a lot of them, one always stands above the rest.
But March… March was different. Just about every week presented at least one brand-new title that sounded too intriguing to pass up, and most of those books delivered. On top of that, several of the titles I’d already started delivered high quality stories that explored and, in some cases, expanded the medium. At the end of each week’s reading, I picked what I assumed would be the spotlight book, and the next week, I’d pick another one.
Faced with this rhetorical Gordian Knot, I choose to take up Alexander’s sword and slice clear through it—if four books deserve the spotlight treatment, then so be it. And because this was such a hefty month, we’ve split the column into two posts: the first focuses on the four Spotlight books, the second (coming soon) covers March’s Solid Reads and One-Shots. Dear reader, welcome to The State of My Pull List: Deluxe Edition!
Spotlight 1
Jimmy Olsen #1
Nick Spencer and R.B. Silva’s “Jimmy Olsen’s Big Week” story was heavily hyped when it launched as a second feature in Action Comics last summer. I wasn’t reading the title at the time (I’m still not, but plan to pick up Paul Cornell’s run in trade in the near future) but I downloaded the free preview through the Comixology app and was impressed. I trusted that DC would get around to collecting the second features in some way, put it on my future wish list, and moved on.
Then DC took a side in the price wars and dropped all their second features, cutting every issue down to twenty pages, and lowering their prices line-wide to $2.99. Some of those features, like my beloved “Spirit Black & White”, dissolved into nothingness. But a few had a high enough profile that DC marked them for future publication as oversized one-shots (that, at $5.99, are probably cheaper than the eventual trade I was hoping for.) “Jimmy Olsen’s Big Week” was spared, thanks almost entirely to Nick Spencer’s status as one of the busiest and most critically acclaimed creators working.
Much of that claim is due to his versatility. On T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents, Spencer showcases his gift for knotty, convoluted plotting and crafting rich characters; Infinite Vacation showcases his “weird science” proclivities. “Jimmy Olsen’s Big Week” (on the cover it’s just Jimmy Olsen), is Nick Spencer at his comedic best. Which isn’t to say that his other books don’t have their light moments, but Jimmy Olsen feels like a comic book version of What’s Up, Doc, all screwball comedy mixed with alien invasions, fifth-dimensional princesses, and a warm romantic subplot. … Continue reading »
I’m not sure how it took me quite so long to finally read this book (and others–it’s the beginning of a tetralogy–I’m now working on Rabbit, Redux), but I wish I had read this novel years ago. It reminds me a lot of On The Road, a favorite of mine that really drew me back into literature at the beginning of my college career. Updike’s prose is lucid, his descriptions and dialogue sharp. This book has some expertly-rendered characters, and can be used as a model for young novelists on how to pace plot properly. Rabbit, Run is unequivocally a Great Read, and a book just about any reader will enjoy. … Continue reading »
I wouldn’t say I dislike massive essay collections on principle, but I do know that I probably won’t get around to reading this book (composed of more than 50 essays and reviews). Burn’s review addresses the inherent risks of assembling such a collection, tells me why I should quit whining and read it anyway, and also features one of the best opening paragraphs I’ve read in months. [Get Otherwise Known As the Human Condition at Powell's.]
Siberian Education, by Nicolai Lilin, reviewed by Joshua Yaffa (Wall Street Journal)
File this one under memoirs not about mommy issues. Nicolai Lilin “was born into a tightly knit society of Siberian bandits”—that’ll turn a page or two. There’s more than a little evidence that Lilin inexplicably James Freyed his bio, exaggerating if not fabricating certain details (“inexplicably” because being born into a society of Siberian bandits seems like enough). Still, it’s intriguing. [Get Siberian Education at Powell's.]
The Trinity Six, by Charles Cumming, reviewed by Kristin Thiel (Oregonian)
The Trinity Six came out more than a month ago, but I’m still seeing new reviews for it, which is a great sign for a mystery/spyish thriller. Another great sign: those reviews are nearly universally positive. This review isn’t much to look at on its own, but if you haven’t considered reading The Trinity Six, perhaps it’ll convince you. [Get The Trinity Six at Powell's.]
I’m always on the lookout for “unorthodox” mysteries, because orthodox ones bore me to tears. “Unorthodox” has been the descriptor most often applied to Atkinson’s mystery series, but after reading this review, I still don’t know exactly what is so odd about it, except possibly the fact that it will require more than a little readerly effort to digest. Which would truthfully be pretty unorthodox. [Get Started Early, Took My Dog at Powell's.]
In brief:My favorite of the many Pale King reviews that came out this weekend. … A book stretched out from a good essay doesn’t impress, despite the fact that it was written by a fictional mutant. (What? Different Professor X? I smell lawsuit.) … I’ve never cottoned to Henning Mankell, but this review of his latest, last Wallender novel positively slobbers over him. … This is a movie review, but it’s in the NYRB and it’s by Zadie Smith. Two out of three ain’t bad.
[Deserted Isle Books is our new series in which our contributors discuss the one book they would choose if they were, well, stranded alone on a deserted isle forever. Read other installments of the series here, get your own copies at Powell's, and explore other series like this on our Special Features page.]
Were I to leave tomorrow on some sort of ocean voyage, I would take along Mat Johnson’s Pym, the book I’m currently balls-deep in, since it would be the only book in my luggage. And it seems an appropriate choice for a high-seas adventure, as Pym is a satirical response to Poe’s The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, a novel about a whaling ship stowaway who gets shipwrecked.
But choosing the book I’m reading now doesn’t keep with the spirit of this idea. And although I’m not the type to pack for an ocean voyage expecting to end up stranded on a deserted isle, I’m always willing to fantasize for (and about?) the dudes here at C4.
I’m tempted to choose a thick, engrossing, thriller-type novel. Stephen King’s The Stand and Dean Koontz’s Strangers jump immediately to mind. I haven’t read either since the mid-90s, but remember being totally consumed by both.
The question is, for how long will I be stranded? If I’m going to be rescued in a week or two, the King or Koontz would be a good pick; the kind of time-passing stories that would help me escape reality. But if I’m stranded for the rest of my life, how long would it take for me to get sick of these books? Both writers do a fair job of character development, but in essence they’re both plot-driven. And how many times can you read the same plot before growing weary of it? By the third read I’d be thinking, “Okay, I get it, Koontz/King. Supervirus, aliens, Nevada, good vs. evil. Now I shall use your book to wipe my ass, because these coconut husks just ain’t cuttin’ it. (Or, actually, these coconut husks are cutting it).” … Continue reading »
I had well-defined expectations about Townie before I’d ever actually opened it. I’d read too much about it going in, about the violence and the street fighting, the one-punch knockouts that sent men to the hospital choking down their own teeth. Even the cover and the flap copy will lead you to believe that this book is about a street-tough kid punching his way through the world.
But Andre Dubus III’s memoir is much more than a fighter’s tale. It’s about filling the voids in one’s life, voids left primarily by absent parents. It’s about the wounds violence creates; about the emotion, or lack of emotion required to be violent towards another human being. It’s about the difference between creativity and destruction. And ultimately, it’s about redemption, not only for the memoirist, but for his father as well.
In other words, it wasn’t at all what I expected, but it turned out to be a whole lot more. … Continue reading »
The Lock Artist surprised me. I’ve gotten used to the covers of Edgar nominees telling me what to expect about their innards. Based on The Lock Artist‘s fairly dumb cover (bland, and with a key-opened padlock, instead of the combination padlock that features prominently in the story) led me to believe this would be another schlocky bestseller, with cardboard characters and cheesy jokes.
And, OK, 75% of it is cookie-cutter crime writing, and the end is hugely disappointing. But Artist features a few glittering moments that are among the best in all the 2011 Edgar books (an admittedly disappointing field). And it features a lesson about the motor that runs the best mysteries—a lesson that Hamilton himself doesn’t understand, but one that’s educational nonetheless. … Continue reading »
Here’s a good reading choice for the start of the baseball season (although I can’t help think that I’m partially to blame for the Red Sox’s abysmal stumbling out the gate by reading a book about the Yankees’ first world series win. Oh well, at least we took 2 out of 3 in the NY series.). Ostensibly about the creation of Yankee Stadium, this is a book about a changing of the guard in baseball, when small ball National League play fell second-fiddle to the power-hitting American League. Weintraub writes like a Yanks fan, but I can’t begrudge him that, since the team is the star of his show. This is a fun and accessible book that takes a look at a just a few years in the long history of baseball. … Continue reading »
With all the hype about the New Yorker’s 20 under 40, it’s nice to read a debut novel by one of their young authors that lives up to the marketing. The Tiger’s Wife is a captivating combination of history and fable. In her own life and in her grandfather’s stories, the narrator confronts questions of belief in the face of desire for understanding, for relief, and for release. Rather than resolving the world of the novel into one ruled by magic beyond human comprehension, the book’s fairytale elements only accentuate the challenges inherent in faith and doubt.
Natalia is on her way to a medical mission at an orphanage across the border when she receives news of the strange circumstances surrounding her grandfather’s death. Having lied to his wife about going to meet Natalia on her mission, he dies from an illness he’d long concealed, alone in the small town of Zdrevkov near the coast. Figuring out why he chose to slip away from his family to die among strangers drives his granddaughter out to the coast and into his past, into one story she knows and one she will learn. … Continue reading »
[In this feature, we highlight a handful of the best book reviews appearing over the weekend in major newspapers. Follow it here.]
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Craving Earth, by Sera L. Young. Reviewed by Adam Kirsch (Barnes and Noble Review).
File this one under pretty weird. Here’s a nonfiction book that explores people who eat dirt. Despite being fairly taboo and almost certainly not-very nutritious, it’s apparently a common practice in parts of the world. Young, a doctor, takes a look at the stigmas surrounding dirt eating, or pica as it’s called, and why people do it. It’s a short and interesting review.
Fire Season, by Phillip Connors. Reviewed by Donovan Hohn (New York Times).
Connors took a sabbatical to go and watch for forest fires from a tower in New Mexico. It sounds like a mostly serene vacation. But, short of an epic blaze, not much in terms of meat for a book. As Hohn describes it, Connors is a good writer. That’s a good thing, because otherwise a book about sitting and watching the forest from a tower would get boring quickly. I like that the review mentions the historical precedent of nature writing, because it’s not really a genre most people are too familiar with (with the exception of Walden and maybe Rachel Carson).
The subtitle of this book (Howard Thurston versus Houdini & the Battles of the American Wizards) implies Thurston–whose biography this is–was an”American Wizard” who did battle with Houdini. Obviously they didn’t go at it like Harry Potter and Voldemort, but the real version sounds pretty cool nonetheless. Writes Bailey:
Thurston’s life is fascinating. Steinmeyer details his Horatio Alger-like ascent from youthful pickpocket and con artist to the best-known magician of his era. It’s a journey Thurston often takes in tandem with one of his three brothers, Harry, a Chicago con artist who runs risqué “hootchie-cootchie” shows and becomes Thurston’s sometime financier.
Seems like Thurston had an impression and innovative career, but lost out in the battle to become legendary. As Bailey described it, this book is not without its faults, but it seems like a really cool biography, especially for anyone who thinks magic tricks (sorry, GOB, illusions) are cool. I’ve actually been reading a lot of nonfiction lately, somewhat uncharacteristically. If I keep it up, this book will probably be my pick of this week’s three.
Bonus Book Trailer: (cue sappy music) Why must book trailers exist? Why are they usually just bad PowerPoint jobs full of platitudinous questions? Why are they almost all hawking Christian romances? Is there hope? (slight crescendo) Stop Making Book Trailers: Nobody Cares, by Sean Clark. 2011, Chamberfour Press.
[Deserted Isle Books is our new series in which our contributors discuss the one book they would choose if they were, well, stranded alone on a deserted isle forever. Read other installments of the series here, get your own copies at Powell's, and explore other series like this on our Special Features page.]
For many years I would not read it. A comic book about the Holocaust? Nationalities reduced to animal species? Auschwitz renamed Mauschwitz, like some sadistic Disneyworld attraction? Even its Pulitzer Prize was not enough to convince me.
Then I met the man who would become my husband. I accepted his enthusiasm for the graphic novel format grudgingly, as one often accepts the quirks of one’s mate. Having never cracked the spine of a single graphic work, I believed the genre was the exclusive domain of men with marginal personal hygiene. My someday-to-be-husband’s all-time favorite of the graphic genre? Maus, the very book I swore I’d never read. … Continue reading »
