One Day I Will Write About This Place by Binyavanga Wainaina

Binyavanga Wainaina’s memoir, with details of various African backgrounds and his sensitive artist’s perspective, paints a poignant and lively picture.

Wainaina’s memoir of his life in Africa begins with his childhood in Kenya, follows him through university in South Africa, to a family reunion in Uganda, and on to his travels throughout Kenya, to land him finally in New York State as a writer and professor. His tale, however, is far from simply a recounting of one man’s life. At its heart, the book is the story of an artist, his struggles as a child to adjust to his view of the world and his discovery of writing as an outlet. His perspective as a child verges on the fantastical as he confuses colors with shapes and objects with sounds. The lyrical, imaginative writing throughout the book reflects this unusual vision. Wainaina paints pictures with words; his writing is reflective and playful and worth lingering over. Music, too, plays a role–almost as another character–as he describes his intense reactions to the music of Kenya, of Africa and of the world.

Another worthwhile aspect of this book is its intelligent and informed study of the politics of the African continent and the diversity of Kenyan perceptions. Wainaina tells of the battle between tribalism and a united Kenya, and the richness of linguistic and cultural perspectives there. Politics, however, is never the main subject; it is merely a background to his personal story. The Africa evoked is captivating and will be exotic and new to many readers.

Wainaina’s memoir is by turns funny, sad, hopeful and occasionally cynical, but always engaging. Fanciful abstractions of his environment and instructive tales of African politics combine to give us a fascinating vision of his world.


This review originally ran in the July 22, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

how to build a home library

Katie over at cakes, tea and dreams published a lovely post the other day called a library of friends. She won me over by opening with a lovely quotation from Anne’s House of Dreams (one of the sequels to Anne of Green Gables, for those not in the know), which I recognized immediately – what fun. (Go read it over there.) And then she tells us about her home library, and asks, “How do you curate your library?”

Well. Unlike Katie, whose very ordered methods and selectivity I admire, I don’t have it all thought out quite that well. My home library consists of a few broad categories.

  • Classics and academic works from high school, college, and grad school. I have very few, if any, what you might call “textbooks” – they tend to be classic lit or philosophy. I confess that relatively few of these have been or will be reread, but I guess I like to have them there for reference or to remind me of what I’m supposed to know. Of course, a handful of these are among my favorite books and have enjoyed several rereads: the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Oresteia (all from high school). Others I’ve been pleased to reread, like Vanished Arizona by Martha Summerhayes, and The Courage of Their Convictions by Peter Irons (from college).
  • Classics, more generally. Shakespeare, Nabokov, Fitzgerald, Hemingway (of course), Austen, the Brontes, and Toni Morrison are all well represented, along with a number of singles. These aren’t going anywhere.

my Hemingway library

  • Genre fiction. I see no point in owning this sort of thing, really! I have very, very, very rarely purchased a mass market paperback copy of a thriller or murder mystery novel. These, in my opinion, should flow freely through the world, just as they do in the hospital where I work – share and share alike. Yes, human nature sometimes gets in the way of this. But mostly, I am happy with my mother handing me a book, or picking one up at work, and then leaving it somewhere when I finish – especially when traveling. My method of lightening the load is to carry many books at the beginning of a trip, and then leave them behind in hotels, train stations, or on trains, etc., as we go. For this reason I obviously wouldn’t take with me a book I meant to keep! But for genre fiction, I find this a good policy. I have tended to have trouble getting rid of these books (when not traveling), but working at a library has helped. I just donate them to my work library. Still have a number of genre paperbacks on my shelves, though; I think my problem is inertia. If a book has been on my shelves for long enough, it is unlikely to leave without good reason.
  • Special interest: I have books about beer and books about bikes, and just a few books about dogs. These are few, but important, and treasured.
  • ARCs? (Advanced Reader Copies – for review.) Not so much. I don’t tend to get attached to these unless they’re especially good, and generally they would have to be something other than genre fiction, too. I’m more likely to keep nonfiction/biography, because of the chance of referring back to it.
  • Good-looking older hardback books, either in beautifully good condition, or battered into an especially charming state. I have a weakness for these.
  • TBR!!! (to be read. you knew that, right?) As I’ve written before, I have a whole bookshelf of TBR books. :-/ These come from all kinds of sources. Some of them are given to me (physically) by friends (hi Fil, Amy) or my mother; many are given to me (as ideas) by friends, other book bloggers, bestseller lists, and (sigh) perhaps my greatest weakness, the book buying I do for the work-library. Also there’s my ever-expanding TBR list.

So I guess my conclusion is, I don’t have a terribly well-ordered method of deciding what to add to the library. Hypothetically, I like Katie’s plan of considering each book carefully as one that I will want to own, reread, refer to, and/or loan out. It should meet some sort of standard for inclusion on my illustrious shelves. In reality, however, I have a touch of the hoarder in me. ANY book is liable to end up on the shelf, at least until I find a good home for it. I recently purged: one book that had broken in three pieces and was only genre fiction in the first place, went into paper recycling, and I think I took another 8 or so to work to donate. How’s that for a purge? Single digits. Sigh. Of course, you could help me out by commenting on what to get rid of!

Katie makes an excellent point about bookstores and our need to support them. I don’t do very well at this. I agree with the principle, but don’t seem to get out there much. Mostly, this is because I work at a library, and have my city’s public library system at my fingertips (online). I just don’t find much reason to make new purchases, these days. When I do, I’m loyal to my local Half Price Books. Hey, it’s still a brick-and-mortar!

I think it might be a good project to try and have a more carefully curated home library. I love the idea of everything on my shelves being something I stand behind, found memorable, and could recommend. (Or, is still waiting TBR. This is why I like having a separate bookshelf. “See, these I know are good. These I’m not sure about yet.”) I have a ways to go. But this is a good project! And it would benefit my work-library, too.

How about you? How do you curate?

the boys win.

Thank you to Thomas of My Porch for recognizing my darlings in the Best Picture of a Pet Reading Brookner contest! You can see a cavalcade (great word) of pets reading Brookner here. Go check out the whole IABD blog for a bunch of reviews and other Brookner miscellany. Like cute pictures. Thanks Thomas!

Ritchey and Hops are mesmerized


My review of Brookner’s Hotel du Lac is here.

Shut Your Eyes Tight by John Verdon

A breathtaking thriller in which retired NYPD Detective Dave Gurney can’t resist involving himself in the grisly case of a decapitated bride even as the case threatens his personal life.

Retired NYPD Detective Dave Gurney lives in the Catskills with his wife, Madeleine, trying to adjust to their new life and learn to appreciate nature. Madeleine is content, but Gurney can’t seem to halt his obsession with criminal investigations, so when a former colleague offers him the sensational case of a decapitated bride connected to a bevy of juvenile sex offenders and an international crime family, he can’t resist. The seemingly impossible and horrifying details fascinate him. Gurney ends up endangering himself and threatening his relationship with Madeleine, who resents the gruesome menace he brings home.

The case of the murdered bride expands and contorts to involve sexual psychology and sexual abuse, and is complicated by police forces so bent on thwarting one another that they seem willing to risk the case itself. The puzzle of the murder mystery, in which we participate alongside Gurney, is suspenseful and challenging, and as a psychological thriller keeps the reader breathlessly turning the pages.

Gurney is a likable character, tortured by his own past, and conflicted in his view of himself as a talented detective but an imperfect husband and father. He worries that he may be uncomfortably similar to the sociopaths he hunts: incapable of compassion and caring, more concerned with the chase than with his family. The reader sympathizes, however, as he grows into a fully developed man, battling an evil that increases as the story progresses, until the suspense and fear come together in a final heart-stopping crescendo.


This review originally ran in the July 22, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

quick miscellany

Link:

I discovered a tumblr the other day that I fell in love with. Check it out: Awesome People Reading. My favorites include Sid Vicious, Kurt Cobain, and Steve McQueen just for their incongruity; and of course I take all the Hemingway I can get (there are several of him).

Fun news item:

I just want to say I’m excited about the intersection of two things I love: the best of beer, and the best of books. The Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year Award has just been awarded to Lee Child’s 61 Hours. I love this beer and I love this book (and author). Great fun. Perhaps I should begin taking more book advice from beer companies! I didn’t know Theakstons Old Peculier gave a book award. Quick quiz item: which mystery series features a likeable detective’s sidekick who drinks Old Peculier?

book beginnings on Friday: Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns

Thanks to Katy at A Few More Pages for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

Today’s book beginning comes from an odd and engrossing little British novel by Barbara Comyns, recommended to me by Simon at Stuck in a Book, called Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead. It’s very enjoyable and unique.

And so we begin.

The ducks swam through the drawing-room windows. The weight of the water had forced the windows open; so the ducks swam in. Round the room they sailed quacking their approval; then they sailed out again to explore the wonderful new world that had come in the night. Old Ives stood on the verandah steps beating his red bucket with a stick while he called to them, but today they ignored him and floated away white and shining towards the tennis court.

This matter-of-fact tone regarding some decidedly strange events is one of the hallmarks of the book. Review is to come, but for now let me say, I like.

update: more answer to the question, what is a classic?

The other day, y’all, I was really delighted to find a new blog called Dead White Guys: An Irreverent Guide to Classic Literature. This sounds like great fun. I like her philosophy, from my explorations so far. Check it out.

I was perhaps most excited, however, to find her answer to the question: What makes a classic? (You can visit my musing attempt at an answer here.)

I find that we mostly agree. Amanda says a classic is “a book that is timeless (but not necessarily old), excellently written, and contributes to the Great Conversation of human thought (to borrow a phrase from Robert Hutchins).” (Ahem: the Great Conversation is also the name of an annual event at my alma mater. Thank you.) So. I also said timelessness was a criterion, but I am still concerned that maybe there should be some sort of wait list? What if we all LOVE this new book in 2011 and think it’s a classic – can we really know, in 2011, if it will pass the test of timelessness?

Excellently written (elsewhere she says “artistically well done”), yes, absolutely also a criterion. But this is a hairy mess of subjectivity. Taken on a case-by-case basis, and assuming I am the judge of this, okay. Excellently written. I shall judge.

Contributing to the Great Conversation a la Robert Hutchins is an excellent requirement, too. That’s one I left off of my earlier (totally inadequate) musings on the subject. Again, subjective, but I think we might be able to agree on this one a little more easily. Of course all judging of the merits of Art face this problem. Also, what if a book is timeless, and beautifully written, but doesn’t tackle the kind of difficult themes that might cause it to make Contributions? Still a classic?

Do you have any thoughts to share? I’m always interested in input on this subject; it continues to bother me. Please comment. And go check out Dead White Guys; I’ll be doing the same.

different strokes

I’m a big reader. Always have been. I’m pretty sure that our fate as readers – either joyful, voracious readers or reluctant ones – is set firmly in childhood. Those who learn to read hungrily as kids will know how to read hungrily forever – they may get too busy to do it right all their lives, but they can always return to such behavior, and I hope they will. Those who don’t learn to really love reading as children are unlikely to ever learn the same abandon in hours (and hours) of reading later. I’m sure there are exceptions (I certainly hope there are exceptions, to that second part of my theory) but I think this is generally true. I am a reader. Husband is not. He reads magazine articles, sometimes. He has read one book that I know of in our years together. But recently we discovered an ability to share an audiobook on a long drive, and I find this lovely. These days he asks for audiobooks when he’s going to fly somewhere for work. I feel so good about helping him find a way to appreciate books.

So the other night I’m on the couch, as usual, and Husband is on the loveseat, as usual, except NOT as usual, I don’t have a book in my lap to defend me from the television. Rather, I have a laptop and I’m researching a few beers that Husband has expressed an interest in: the black IPA (made by 512 brewing, as it turns out) and what I remembered as the Belgian IPA which turns out to be the BPA – Belgian pale ale – made by Ommegang (as I thought). And I look up and see this crazy whatnot that Husband has on the television and I say, what movie is this? and he says, it’s The Bone Collector. I say gasp! that’s a book! it’s a book by Jeffery Deaver.

This reminds me of that other day when I said gasp! oh boy, the Odyssey on audiobook, how wonderful. He said, Space 2001? I said, Homer!

I’ve never read any Deaver, although I certainly know of him (through the library where I work) as a genre author. I know his serial detective is Lincoln Rhyme. But I didn’t know until I caught this movie that he’s quadriplegic! The movie was quite good – I watched a good chunk of the middle part of it. All-star cast includes Denzel Washington (Rhyme himself), Angelina Jolie (of whom Husband is not a fan), Queen Latifah, and Luiz Guzmán, who I like very much. (I always remember him fondly from Punch-Drunk Love.) I think I might pick up one of Deaver’s books one of these days.

But my real point here is that while Husband and I approach books from very different starting points, we both still see books in our lives. (He’s seen a lot more books in his life since his wife became a librarian.) And I think that’s a beautiful thing. Even if my beer research and his television watching made up our route to books on this particular evening, it’s the destination that’s important.

Teaser Tuesdays: Don Quixote by Cervantes, trans. by J.M. Cohen

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

Here ’tis! The Classics Challenge continues.

My teaser today comes from Don Quixote by Cervantes, translated by J.M. Cohen. From page 158:

When Don Quixote realized that Sancho was making fun of him, he got so furiously angry that he lifted his lance and dealt him two blows which would have relieved the master of the duty of paying his squire’s wages, unless perhaps to his heirs, had they caught him on the head instead of on the shoulders. But when Sancho found himself so poorly rewarded for his joke, he was afraid that his master might carry the matter farther, and said to him with great humility: ‘Gently, your worship; I was only joking, I swear.’

I am just beginning this book (am not even to page 158 yet, and my edition runs over 900 pages!), but I already believe that this is a representative passage. There have been several instances of Don Quixote losing his temper and dealing blows; and this passage was chosen at random. I think the dealing of blows may be a theme.

I’m excited to be into such a formidable classic text. What are you reading these days?

books that are on their way OFF my TBR shelves

Folks, I’ve said it before: there are too many good books in this world (this is not necessarily a bad thing) and not enough time. I have huge stacks, as do we all, of to-be-read books piled and shelved all around me. If they cave, Husband and two little dogs and I will be crushed. Please help. I’m getting ready to get rid of some of these TBR books that I’m not so sure I need to read, to make room for more. Below are the books that are on my shelves but I can’t remember why. This is your chance to make an argument for any I need to keep. In other words, please remind me why I have these books in the first place. Mom, especially you as I think you’re responsible for a number of them. Otherwise they’re off to better homes (like the library where I work). This is not a tragic fate; they’ll be read, never fear. Just not by me.

(Of course this list does not include all those I KNOW I need to read, sigh. That list is even longer.)

Thank you. GO.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery

The Bookmaker’s Daughter by Shirley Abbott

Red House by Sarah Messer

Good Bones and Simple Murders by Margaret Atwood

(I have never not loved anything by Atwood but this has been sitting for like years. Why has it taken me this long? Should I give up?)

Ellen Foster by Kaye Gibbons

Nanga Parbat Pilgrimage by Hermann Buhl

The Club Dumas by Arturo Pérez-Reverte

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

A Separate Peace by John Knowles

Sanctum by Denise Mina

Scoundrel Time by Lillian Hellman

If I can remember the original reason I wanted to read a book, it has stayed on the shelf. But these need a little push to stay. I await your comments.