The Name of the Tree is Micro Reviews

So… I still haven’t gone back to watching House, and after hearing about the season finale, all I can say is, whew, glad I got out when I did. Here is what I’ve been reading and watching instead.

We Need to Talk About Kevin* by Lionel Shriver (literary novel, 2003) – This epistolary novel, narrated by the mother of a teenaged boy who has been the perpetrator of a school shooting, is one of those weird books I didn’t enjoy reading but am glad to have read. I found the narrator somewhat obnoxious, but the ideas in her narrative stayed with me, particularly the powerful and ultimately mysterious characterization of the central figure, Kevin. It made me think of Gus van Sant’s 2003 movie Elephant, and how each work takes such a different, but not mutually exclusive, approach to the subject matter.

His Master’s Voice by Stanislaw Lem (science fiction novel, 1968, trans. 1983) – This was a slow, leisurely piece of sci-fi, dedicated to the pleasure of exploring ideas rather than plot tension or character. We learn the ending at the same time we learn the plot: no Earth scientists can understand what seems to be a message from outer space, because sometimes the underlying apparatus for communication just isn’t there between species, fields, or individuals. This revelation doesn’t keep the rest of the book from being interesting, as long as you like philosophy.

The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan (MG fantasy novel, 2010) – We first meet Jason when he appears on a school trip without any memory of who he is, but if you’ve read the Percy Jackson novels by the same author, it will come as no surprise that he’s a demi-god hero who’s about to be sent to on a perilous quest with his two friends. Nor will the eventual revelation of how he got amnesia and what it is he’s forgetting be total shocks when they’re finally laid out on the page. However, Riordan writes at such breakneck speed that the anticipation (and the slight doubt: am I right? Is that really how this will end?) makes the journey better, not worse.

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut (satirical novel, 1969) – I should like Kurt Vonnegut much better than I do, since his books are always full of smart, sharp humour. But somehow they drag me down instead of moving me. Still, this one was thoughtful, funny, and easy to read despite being thematically challenging.

Forbidden Knowledge: 101 Things Not Everyone Should Know How to Do by Michael Powell (humour non-fiction book, 2007) – About 10% of the 101 articles really piqued my interest. Unfortunately, most seemed to be the kind of humour I find boring (haha — boobs! Sex! Obvious and non-creative sarcasm!), and I was annoyed that some articles took the book’s premise seriously and others just made fun of it. No, I didn’t expect it to actually teach me how to build a nuclear bomb, but I did expect more articles with cool new information, like the one on “elevator hacks” (i.e. neat things elevator manufacturers hardwire into their machines) or weaknesses programmed into vending machines and parking meters.

The Devil and Sherlock Holmes: Tales of Murder, Madness, and Obsession by David Grann (non-fiction book, 2010) – This collection of articles on amazing (and/or horrifying) but true events was at its best in the first half, in which the author details true crimes, injustices, and cons that would make movie audiences turn away with, “Pfff! As if!” If the second half isn’t quite so fascinating, it’s just because (to me, at least), biologist squid-hunters and aqueduct-builders are more familiar than crazy murders and cases of amnesia. Still, every article in this exciting book is definitely worth checking out.

The Last 15 Seconds at Theatre Passe Muraille (play and movement piece, 2011) – I appreciate the earnestness with which this play set out to explore the emotions and viewpoints surrounding the (based-on-true-events) death of a renowned  filmmaker when a suicide bomber detonates at the filmmaker’s daughter’s wedding. But I didn’t feel like this piece had a lot of new ideas to bring to the table. Parts of it were very beautiful, but I felt it meandered along tried-and-true thematic lines, sometimes including movement for the sake of movement, it seemed, and not for the sake of saying something that couldn’t be said any other way.

Let Newton Be by (play, 2011) – Most of the time, when I don’t like a play, it’s because it’s not theatre but because it’s sneakily trying to be something else — a movie or book onstage. I loved that this show, written entirely from quotes that came from Sir Isaac Newton’s pen, stuck to its guns and did what only theatre can do, with its minimalist set and clever premise of three Newtons at different ages interacting with one another. That said, although the audience of (mainly) historians of science  seemed to enjoy the show, I can’t say I thought this was a very good script — it felt like everyone was constantly fighting the text in order to achieve the kind of conflict and character that would have been better served by abandoning the constraint of sticking to direct quotes.

Ghost Stories by (play, 2011) – Yeah… it was fun to go to this play with my friend, M-L (thanks, M-L!), and, yeah, it did make me nervous for the rest of the night, but that was mostly because the thing that sets off my lizard brain is waiting for something to jump out at me, which is pretty much this entire play. The narrator tells us three ghost stories and then a bonus one after Plot! Twists! happen, but they mostly go: [30 minutes of creepy atmosphere with dim lighting] AAGGH OMG A GIANT MONSTER THAT MAKES NO SENSE JUST JUMPED OUT OF NOWHERE! The end. The effects and design were suitably claustrophobic as the stories required, but I can’t shake the bad taste in my mouth left by a) the only unironic anti-Semitism I’ve ever seen in something written after 1930 (really, though, a character gets repeatedly taunted with, “Jewy Jewy Jewboy”… it’s difficult to explain the context, but let’s just say it seemed like we weren’t supposed to find this funny); b) the unexamined assumption that mentally and/or physically disabled people are automatically “creepy”; and c) blatant Mad-Libs-style sticking Toronto landmarks into the obviously British script to try to “localize” the production.

Enlightened Sexism: The Seductive Message That Feminism’s Work Is Done by Susan J. Douglas (non-fiction book, 2010) – Well, I am the choir to whom this book is preaching: before I picked it up, I already agreed that what Douglas calls “enlightened sexism” (maintaining that men and women have already achieved complete equality and/or that therefore any reversion to actions or ideas previously thought to be sexist is just silly absurdist fun that no one could possibly take seriously) is still sexism and still pervasive. But aside from whether you agree or disagree with Douglas’s points, her style is hilarious, and she raises a number of interesting issues. I particularly appreciated how she allows that stories are more complicated than a dichotomy of “sexist/racist/homophobic/able-ist, etc.” vs. “NOT sexist/racist/homophobic/able-ist, etc.” — that, say, there might be a empowered and exciting female character  in a TV show that has sexist plotlines, or that a movie character might be interesting and progressive sometimes and stereotyped and regressive other times.

Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void by Mary Roach (non-fiction book, 2010) – Ever wonder how astronauts go number two? If so, this is the book for you: Mary Roach braves the Vomit Comet, NASA red tape, and stories of, um, antigravity poop to deliver a funny but detailled account of what life is like in space when you’re not sticking a flag into the moon or cleverly surviving Apollo 13. Everything you ever wanted to know about life in orbit (and how scientists prepare candidates for it) but were afraid to ask.

Blood: An Epic History of Medicine and Commerce by Douglas Starr (non-fiction book, 2000) – Although Starr dedicates a short section of this book to the history of blood and transfusion before the late nineteenth-century, the majority of this tome covers the twentieth century, particularly the time during and after the Second World War and mainly the Western world, with the notable exception of Japan. The story he tells is a fascinating one, touching on how the understandings, both literal and metaphorical, of what blood is, shape the system that collects and distributes it, and how this can leave it vulnerable to emergent blood-borne pathogens, like HIV.

Delusions of Gender: How Our Minds, Society, and Neurosexism Create Difference by Cordelia Fine (non-fiction book, 2010) – No matter what your opinion on whether there are ‘hardwired’ differences between men and women, I guarantee you will find this book infuriating, either because of the seemingly insurmountable bias in popular science this author details or because you can’t believe how wrong she’s getting it. After reading, I find myself in the former camp. Fine systematically (and entertainingly) reviews the subgenre of popular science epitomized by the idea that “men are from Mars, women from Venus”, skewering a few instances of bad science, a truckload more instances of bad science journalism, and a heckuvalot of instances of unwarranted cultural influence.

* ETA: Apparently now adapted as a movie at Cannes, starring Tilda Swinton. Interesting.