Tag: The Strand

  • SPRING BREAK!

    The kid is on Spring Break! Not only am I the primary caregiver in our home, I am also the primary entertainer! I need to keep our daughter occupied for the next week, so the peace can be kept. See, the wife works from home, and I do as well for that matter, but I need to strike a balance between all parties, so the wife can work, and I can get my stuff done, and the kid doesn’t stare at a screen for the next ten days.

    In some far-off magical future, I’ll have a vacation home upstate that we will go to. Way off in the woods, a creek would run through the property. We would hike, and camp, and do outdoorsy things. At night we’ll build a fire in the back yard, roast marshmallows. You name it, right?

    One day…

    For now, I am forcing her to do chores with me like grocery shopping and doing the laundry. All the stuff grade school kids love to do. Maybe I’ll make her clean her room! Vacation time is chore time.

    No, I won’t be that dad. I’ll take her to a museum, probably the Whitney. We’ll head out and do some book shopping at the Strand. I’ll take her out to lunch. Last year we went disc golfing, and I think we’ll try that again.

    The one thing that I did do on this first day of Spring Break, was make her take a walk with me in the local park. Just us, walking and talking. Well… she talked and I just listened. She told me about school and her friends, and her American Doll that she got for her birthday. The kid still likes me enough to talk to me, and not that I think she ever stop talking to me, I just know teenage years can be trying, and there might be a hiatus of her sharing her life with me.

    So, I’m going to enjoy the time I’m getting with her.

  • Personal Review: “Norwegian Wood” by Haruki Murakami

    I first heard of Haruki Murakami somewhere in 1995 or 1996, when I read a translated short story of his in The New Yorker. I’m pretty sure it was “The Zoo Attack,” and I think it was all tied into the article about the upcoming publication of his novel, “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.” The short story made enough of an impression on me that I went to the local bookstore, and found a copy of his short story collection, “The Elephant Vanishes.” I mean I read it almost 25 years ago, but I remember that the collection was great; funny, surreal, and feeling very honest. Murakami does a great job on creating these fantastical stories where the characters reactions to this unreal situations land true and authentic. (Other surreal short story writers could learn a great deal from this man.) He is a great talent, truly a world talent.

    And there was one novel of his that for a long time, you couldn’t get in English; “Norwegian Wood.” Being a huge Beatles fan, the title of the novel always stuck with me, clearly, because it’s one of their more famous songs. Published in 1987, this was the novel that made Haruki Murakami a famous author and household name in Japan. Whenever anything was written about him, “Norwegian Wood” was always mentioned as his best novel. Sadly, being that there wasn’t an English translation until 2000 of the novel, in the late 90’s, it fell off my radar as a novel I had to read. Every now and then, I would see the title show up on reading lists of writers, and friends, and I would think, I need to read that book.

    Then back in April, when I took the kid with me down to The Strand to go book hunting, I found a huge stack of paperback copies of “Norwegian Wood” sitting on a cart that I am sure had yet to be shelved. Looking at the cover, I thought it’s time for me to read it. And when September rolled around, I finally got around to it.

    I liked the novel, but I wasn’t as impressed as I thought I would be. I had read that this book was a “normal” and “straight-forward” story, and not at all in the surreal vein of his earlier stories, and that was very true. It was a memory story, and used that formula. Toru, the narrator, is on a flight and he hears the song, “Norwegian Wood” as the plane is taxing to the gate in Hamburg, Germany. This song causes him to remember the time in his life where he had just started college, and first fell in love. Thus sets in motion the story, and Toru tells us that though he hasn’t thought of these events in years, the memories come back to him in vivid detail. It was a little caveat trick that Murakami used to give agency as to why the narrator is so detailed in his memories, and also to signal to us that what we are about to hear from the narrator is the truth.

    The setting is 1969 Tokyo, and all the cultural changes that come with it. I liked learning that the upheavals that hit universities in the US and France during this period, also hit Japan as well, but Toru seems to exist just adjacent of all of this turmoil. It is a lonely life this very normal young man lives; living in a dorm, going to class, working a part-time job. Soon he reconnects with the Naoko, who had been the girlfriend of his best friend, Kizuki, in high school. We learn that Kizuki had committed suicide their senior year, and this tragic loss still hangs over both of their lives. Though they come together, they both handle the death in different ways, and with different compounding struggles.

    The novel is more complicated, and there is a theme of loyalty, duty, and commitment as well. But also, the desire to go into the world and experience and discover. I can see why the “coming of age” moniker would get thrown on this story, but I feel that is more used for marketing that an actual description of what the novel is. The characters didn’t feel like they were coming into their own, but discovering how the death of a loved one can change the prism of their world, and viewpoint; some felt guilt, some felt relief, some had a rebirth.

    But as I write all of this, and I just finished reading it yesterday, I have this feeling in the back of my head that I need more time with the novel kicking around in my head. Let it marinate, and see where it takes me. Though it wasn’t as profound as I thought it would be, it hasn’t shaken my opinion of Haruki Murakami’s talent or status as an author.

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  • Personal Review: second place – a novel, by Rachel Cusk

    I’m getting back into the swing of reading. Like all things in life, if you want to good at something, you have to make it a habit. Make time for it, work at it, do it even when you don’t want to. I’m getting back into reading shape. I read Ezra Klein’s essay “I Didn’t Want It  to Be True, but the Medium Really Is the Message,” and I agree with him that the internet, and especially my smartphone, has dampen my ability to focus and read a book. Hence why I feel like I have to work at reading.

    At the start of the Summer, I took the kid to The Strand, so we could load up on books while on vacation. Though I didn’t go there looking for it, I came across Rachel Cusk’s newest novel – second place. I became a big fan of Cusk’s writing several years ago when I read her Outline trilogy, which left me feeling inspired to write again. So, when I see anything new by her, I gobble it up.

    The story of second place is straightforward; the narrator, M, invites a painter, L, to stay at her and her husband’s guesthouse during Covid. L isn’t a particularly warm or friendly person, and his interactions with M, M’s husband and daughter end up acting as a catalyst for change and introspection.

    What I enjoyed about the novel, which I find true for Cusk’s writing, is that there is such a wonderful serene sense of just pondering life; asking questions of oneself, and looking for answers and discoveries. Her writing is almost stream of consciences, but without all the pretension that can come with that style. The narrator, M, takes in life, and remembers things and stories, and she also describes her feelings about the development of her relationship with her husband and daughter. M is doing what I do with my life, and I hope other people do as well, which is I think about the people and events that have transpired, and how it all has affected us. Not in a narcissistic way, but more is a sense of awe, gratitude even, for the ability to have a life with people we care about, and a tiny bit of resignation and loss for the people that aren’t there anymore.

    (Say! If you are a person who finds these words which I have strung together entertaining, please take a moment to like, comment or share this blog. You’re high school English teacher will thank you!)

  • Where I’m At

    I got rejected from another lit magazine yesterday. I submitted to five at the end of January/beginning of February. That would be three rejections in the past two weeks. I am expecting to be rejected by the final two magazines, and then we will start this whole process over again.

    I am reminding myself that everyone I know who has a successful career in the arts had to put in about ten years of ground work first. The other thing that comes to mind is what my dad told me about achieving a goal; you get 100 no’s before the first yes, so get the no’s out of the way. So, 97 more no’s to go.

    Now that I have the self-affirmation shit out of the way, I think I’m going to subscribe to “The Drift” today. It’s a quarterly lit mag, written by people who are younger than me. I mean, not that much younger, but still, I have a few years on them. Anyway, I feel the need to discover some new ideas.

    I have been able to get back to reading regularly, and I am making headway through “The Stories of John Cheever.” I still have “60 Stories” by Donald Barthelme that I seem to have been working on for five years, but I am feeling like 2022 is the year it will be finished. Furthermore, I feel like I will be making a trip down to The Strand soon, and see what I can find.

    Yeah. That’s where I’m at.