Here at Whiskey Before Breakfast, Zach and I have one rule: We do not review books that have appeared in Oprah Winfrey's Book Club. Today, I am going to break that rule, and you're all going to like it.
Cormac McCarthy published The Road in 2006. It was made into a film in 2009, starring Aragorn and an Australian kid with two last names.
Anyway, The Road depicts a post-apocalyptic world (context indicates this to be North America, a number of years after a terrible war) through which an unnamed man and his young son travel on foot to reach "the sea." As they journey through the bleak landscape, they encounter horrific violence and depravity (cannibalism, murder, desecration of everything sacred). However, the brutality of the outside world is contrasted with the tender, loving relationship the man has with his son. The boy represents the last remaining bit of goodness left in the world; the father is determined to protect his son not only for his own sake, but also for the good of the human race. It's a very powerful image. Despite the horrors of the ravaged world, we can find hope in the end, because the boy's innocent goodness illuminates the sick world around him.
Side note: the image of light recurs throughout the novel. It's quite interesting. If I were to do it over again, I would read this book by candlelight. End note.
Cormac McCarthy's unique style strikes a balance between poetry and prose. Each sentence has a distinctive rhythm and mood; the story is painted in a cold, gray dullness that perfectly captures the bleakness of the landscape. McCarthy avoids most punctuation, which gives his writing a sense of raw simplicity. In this case, the style reflects the content. Everything about this story is cold and gray--the setting, the language, the tone--except for the relationship between the father and the young son. You'll shiver through the frigid narrative, but you'll feel comforted by the warmth of their bond, despite the grim circumstances.
You could say McCarthy's style is Hemingway-esque. It is expressive in its lack of expression.
The Road is unconcerned with the past or the future. We know practically nothing about our two protagonists (i.e. where they came from, where they're going, their names). We simply witness their present journey, and when we do, we begin to realize that we're walking right alongside them.
You have to carry the fire.
I don't know how to."
Yes, you do.
Is the fire real? The fire?
Yes it is.
Where is it? I don't know where it is.
Yes you do. It's inside you. It always was there. I can see it.
--Spence
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Monday, November 19, 2012
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town
“Nothing ever happens in Antler, Texas. Nothing much at all.”
And so go the first two lines of a novel that I’ve shared both feelings of
endearing love and loathsome hate with. Let’s be honest, as children it was a
rare thing to find ourselves sitting down with a quality book and devoting any
significant amount of time to discovering what its words and theme could mean
for our own lives. No, we were more preoccupied with the thoughts of global
warming (sorry, climate change),
stripping naked for PETA posters, and “livin’
la vida loca”, as we were so often told to do by the always respected
artist, Ricky Martin. So, like any normal child of 12, I distanced myself from
things that weren't as beneficial as these. That’s why, when I first
encountered Kimberly Willis Holt’s novel, When
Zachary Beaver Came to Town, I absolutely despised it for reasons that are
two-fold.
First, the book title contained my name and was actually
spelled right. When we were forced to read this work for my seventh grade
English class, there was no shortage of obvious statements such as, “Hey Zach,
this book has your name on it!” To which
I always replied, “Hey [insert generic kid’s name], no s***!” pronouncing each asterisk
perfectly.
Secondly, it’s a National Book Award-winning children’s
novel, so that obviously means every child must
enjoy this book because it won an award, right? Well, I never finished it in
seventh grade and to be honest, it remained in a state of dormancy until this
past summer, when I decided to evict the spiders and cobwebs which had taken up residency on it and began reading it again. This was one of the best
decisions of my life.
It’s a coming of age story about a thirteen-year-old boy, Toby Wilson, who lives in Antler, Texas. It’s your archetypal western small town, where everyone knows everyone, and your best friend lives next to you, and there’s a crazy old man who sells you snow cones down the road. One day a traveling side-show attraction visits this insipid town and that’s when Toby and his best friend, Cal, discover the fattest boy in the world, Zachary Beaver. Enamored with the sheer size of the boy, the two friends continue to return and visit with him despite Zachary’s obvious distaste towards people and the cornucopia of lies he constructs about his world travels. When Toby discovers a Bible in Zachary’s trailer and notices that the baptism section isn't filled out, Toby forms a plan to do just that, baptize a 300+ pound boy.
This work is told from the first person point of view of
Toby, which lends itself to pull any emotional string it wants. In turn, that’s
what makes it such a captivating and warm book to read, despite moments of
complete loss and heartbreak. An example of this would be Toby’s own home life.
From the opening chapter we discover that Toby’s mom has left for Nashville,
Tennessee in order to peruse her dream of becoming a country music star. The
last memory Toby has of her was a fight between her and his dad in the kitchen,
ending with his dad storming out of the room. As the story progresses we learn
that this fissure in the family will never be repaired as his mom intends on
staying in Nashville for good, thus meaning a divorce is surely to come. What ensues
next is a strain between him and his dad as Toby attempts to distance himself
from his family while his dad tries to understand his son’s pain.
Making its home in both light-hearted humor and soul-wrenching
drama, When Zachary Beaver Came to Town
will journey its way through your emotions in eloquent style. It’s a relatively
quick read and I honestly recommend it for the upcoming holiday season being that
it makes one thankful for what they have, even if you live in a small town
where nothing ever happens.
-- Zach
Friday, November 16, 2012
Into the Wild
Mankind is terribly cruel. As a society, we demand unquestioned conformity from every individual. Those who march to the beat of their own drum are usually ostracized, rejected or worse.
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer tells the true story of Christopher McCandless, a young man who wanted to live freely, exuberantly, and unreservedly. Chris idealistically refused to conform to the society in which he was born, and he sought to lead a meaningful, spontaneous life, focusing only on the essentials of living.
Chris McCandless graduated from Emory University in 1990 with high honors. Disillusioned by the shallow materialism around him, Chris abandoned his plans to attend Harvard Law School. He donated his $24,000 life savings to charity, packed his few possessions into the trunk of his car, and drove west. He recorded his nearly-unbelievable adventures in his journal and camera; after his car was damaged in a flash flood, Chris hitchhiked to South Dakota where he worked at a grain elevator for several months. He made his way south, and eventually canoed to Mexico on the Colorado River. He drifted through Arizona and California, and began making plans for his long-awaited adventure to Alaska. Chris hitchhiked north, and in April of 1992, he sent the following postcard to his friend Wayne:
“Greetings from Fairbanks! This is the last you shall hear from me, Wayne. Arrived here 2 days ago. It was very difficult to catch rides in the Yukon Territory. But I finally got here. Please return all mail I receive to the sender. It might be a very long time before I return South. If this adventure proves fatal and you don’t ever hear from me again, I want you to know you’re a great man. I now walk into the wild.”
Four months later, Chris was dead. A group of hunters discovered his emaciated body in the Alaskan wilderness; Chris had been living in an abandoned school bus (a temporary lodging for hunters), and he had been thriving until he accidentally consumed a poisonous plant and starved to death. Jon Krakauer wrote Into the Wild by compiling journal entries, letters, photographs, and interviews with Chris's family and friends.
Into the Wild has inspired me tremendously. Christopher McCandless understood something deep and powerful about life: in the words of Henry David Thoreau, "Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." Chris saw that his society constructed meaningless formalities to avoid facing the truth. He put aside the notion that material success always equals greatness, and he blazed his own trail, enjoying the base necessities of life and discovering the limitless value of natural beauty and human relationships.
The story of Chris McCandless creates controversy because his untimely death seems to indicate that his life was a waste and his experiment was a failure. While I regard his death as a tremendous loss to the human race, I also believe that his experiences can teach an invaluable lesson. Chris lived a rich, beautiful life. He refused to be content with a numb, meaningless existence. Most people never take a moment to reflect inwardly on their own souls, but Chris spent his short life on a journey to discover himself and the truth.
Side note: Part of my fascination with Christopher McCandless stems from his exemplification of the American Adam motif. The American Adam recurs throughout the American literary tradition: the solitary individual who liberates himself from his past and journeys westward to conquer, to discover, and to be free. He gives new names to the things he sees, and he lives independently and innocently. (Think of Natty Bumpo, Nick Adams, Huckleberry Finn, even Hester Prynne). Chris McCandless is a real-life American Adam. End Note.
Please read Into the Wild at some point in your life. Even if you completely disagree with Chris's decisions, I think you stand to gain something from this book. Jon Krakauer beautifully portrays the life of Chris McCandless, and I finished this book feeling deeply connected to Chris, as if I knew him.
Also, the movie was excellent. You can watch it before or after you read the book, actually. (I rarely say that).
--Spence
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer tells the true story of Christopher McCandless, a young man who wanted to live freely, exuberantly, and unreservedly. Chris idealistically refused to conform to the society in which he was born, and he sought to lead a meaningful, spontaneous life, focusing only on the essentials of living.
Chris McCandless graduated from Emory University in 1990 with high honors. Disillusioned by the shallow materialism around him, Chris abandoned his plans to attend Harvard Law School. He donated his $24,000 life savings to charity, packed his few possessions into the trunk of his car, and drove west. He recorded his nearly-unbelievable adventures in his journal and camera; after his car was damaged in a flash flood, Chris hitchhiked to South Dakota where he worked at a grain elevator for several months. He made his way south, and eventually canoed to Mexico on the Colorado River. He drifted through Arizona and California, and began making plans for his long-awaited adventure to Alaska. Chris hitchhiked north, and in April of 1992, he sent the following postcard to his friend Wayne:
“Greetings from Fairbanks! This is the last you shall hear from me, Wayne. Arrived here 2 days ago. It was very difficult to catch rides in the Yukon Territory. But I finally got here. Please return all mail I receive to the sender. It might be a very long time before I return South. If this adventure proves fatal and you don’t ever hear from me again, I want you to know you’re a great man. I now walk into the wild.”
Four months later, Chris was dead. A group of hunters discovered his emaciated body in the Alaskan wilderness; Chris had been living in an abandoned school bus (a temporary lodging for hunters), and he had been thriving until he accidentally consumed a poisonous plant and starved to death. Jon Krakauer wrote Into the Wild by compiling journal entries, letters, photographs, and interviews with Chris's family and friends.
Into the Wild has inspired me tremendously. Christopher McCandless understood something deep and powerful about life: in the words of Henry David Thoreau, "Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." Chris saw that his society constructed meaningless formalities to avoid facing the truth. He put aside the notion that material success always equals greatness, and he blazed his own trail, enjoying the base necessities of life and discovering the limitless value of natural beauty and human relationships.
The story of Chris McCandless creates controversy because his untimely death seems to indicate that his life was a waste and his experiment was a failure. While I regard his death as a tremendous loss to the human race, I also believe that his experiences can teach an invaluable lesson. Chris lived a rich, beautiful life. He refused to be content with a numb, meaningless existence. Most people never take a moment to reflect inwardly on their own souls, but Chris spent his short life on a journey to discover himself and the truth.
Side note: Part of my fascination with Christopher McCandless stems from his exemplification of the American Adam motif. The American Adam recurs throughout the American literary tradition: the solitary individual who liberates himself from his past and journeys westward to conquer, to discover, and to be free. He gives new names to the things he sees, and he lives independently and innocently. (Think of Natty Bumpo, Nick Adams, Huckleberry Finn, even Hester Prynne). Chris McCandless is a real-life American Adam. End Note.
Please read Into the Wild at some point in your life. Even if you completely disagree with Chris's decisions, I think you stand to gain something from this book. Jon Krakauer beautifully portrays the life of Chris McCandless, and I finished this book feeling deeply connected to Chris, as if I knew him.
Also, the movie was excellent. You can watch it before or after you read the book, actually. (I rarely say that).
--Spence
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
H.P. Lovecraft and all that Cosmic Horror
You'll have to forgive me this week for not having a wonderful, thought-provoking book review. I have good reasons to which I'll layout for you right now. First, it takes a long time to read a book and consume all it has to offer. I can't exactly read War and Peace or The Brothers Karamazov in one week and then actually have enough brain cells left to write a review on said works (I've read neither of these by the way). Secondly, I've taken it upon myself to begin reading House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, which is a 700+ page book that consists of footnotes within footnotes, long passages in Latin/German/Hebrew, and parts of chapters that can't be read unless held up to a mirror. It's an experience to say the least and am currently equating myself with that of Dante, taking upon himself the burden of discovering the horrors of Hell, so you'll forgive me for not having a review for this book yet.
Instead, I've decided to review a couple short stories written by one of the great horror masters of all time, H.P. Lovecraft. I've been a long time fan of Lovecraft and believe that you should familiarize yourself with at least some of his more famous works such as "The Call of Cthulhu" or "At the Mountains of Madness". Being an author of "weird horror", his readers must simultaneously suspend their rationale while expanding their imagination to enjoy his stories. He also writes in a similar style to that of Poe, with eloquent diction and long spanning sentences. With that said, as Samuel Taylor Coleridge once stated, we must be willing to suspend our disbelief and involve ourselves in the story and events taking place in order to appreciate what the author is trying to portray. Only then may we actually peer into the mind that is Lovecraft.
"The Beast in the Cave"
I decided not to review some of the more well-known Lovecraft stories for the sake of saving those for you to read. Instead, I chose a couple of my personal favorites that pioneered my love for his works. The first story that I ever read was "The Beast in the Cave", a short story that takes place in Mammoth Cave where a man loses his tour group and becomes utterly disoriented and lost. When the torch he's carrying finally extinguishes his imagination begins to take over as he succumbs to claustrophobia and a very real fear of death. When he starts to hear footsteps somewhere behind him, he all but falls into insanity. The ending to this story comes as a shock, leaving the reader with a slight chill creeping up their spine.
"The Tomb"
This short story stands as one of the more eerier ones that I've read in my musings of Lovecraft. It's about a self-proclaimed daydreamer, Jervas Dudley, who becomes enthralled with a mausoleum belonging to a family who died in a mansion fire years ago. From the very first lines of the story though, we find that Jervas claims to be an unreliable source for the tale he is about to tell, and that many others consider him insane. His story is one that revolves around his constant return to the tomb in order to sleep in an empty coffin labeled with the name, "Jervas" (or so he believes). As his obsession progresses he begins to develop a fear of thunder and fire (a parallel to how the mansion was burned down), as well as an almost tangible case of paranoia. As an eerily psychotic story, "The Tomb" is one of Lovecraft's finest.
Pick up a Lovecraft book tomorrow. Everyone deserves to discover the cosmic side of the horror-fantasy genre.
-- Zach
Instead, I've decided to review a couple short stories written by one of the great horror masters of all time, H.P. Lovecraft. I've been a long time fan of Lovecraft and believe that you should familiarize yourself with at least some of his more famous works such as "The Call of Cthulhu" or "At the Mountains of Madness". Being an author of "weird horror", his readers must simultaneously suspend their rationale while expanding their imagination to enjoy his stories. He also writes in a similar style to that of Poe, with eloquent diction and long spanning sentences. With that said, as Samuel Taylor Coleridge once stated, we must be willing to suspend our disbelief and involve ourselves in the story and events taking place in order to appreciate what the author is trying to portray. Only then may we actually peer into the mind that is Lovecraft.
"The Beast in the Cave"
I decided not to review some of the more well-known Lovecraft stories for the sake of saving those for you to read. Instead, I chose a couple of my personal favorites that pioneered my love for his works. The first story that I ever read was "The Beast in the Cave", a short story that takes place in Mammoth Cave where a man loses his tour group and becomes utterly disoriented and lost. When the torch he's carrying finally extinguishes his imagination begins to take over as he succumbs to claustrophobia and a very real fear of death. When he starts to hear footsteps somewhere behind him, he all but falls into insanity. The ending to this story comes as a shock, leaving the reader with a slight chill creeping up their spine.
"The Tomb"
This short story stands as one of the more eerier ones that I've read in my musings of Lovecraft. It's about a self-proclaimed daydreamer, Jervas Dudley, who becomes enthralled with a mausoleum belonging to a family who died in a mansion fire years ago. From the very first lines of the story though, we find that Jervas claims to be an unreliable source for the tale he is about to tell, and that many others consider him insane. His story is one that revolves around his constant return to the tomb in order to sleep in an empty coffin labeled with the name, "Jervas" (or so he believes). As his obsession progresses he begins to develop a fear of thunder and fire (a parallel to how the mansion was burned down), as well as an almost tangible case of paranoia. As an eerily psychotic story, "The Tomb" is one of Lovecraft's finest.
Pick up a Lovecraft book tomorrow. Everyone deserves to discover the cosmic side of the horror-fantasy genre.
-- Zach
Friday, November 9, 2012
A Separate Peace
Instead of reviewing another book, I've decided to write about my views on the recent election.
Too soon? Nahhh.
The story begins with Gene Forrester as he returns to his high school alma mater (Devon School for Young Men, located in New England) on his fifteenth class reunion. He makes a point of visiting two specific locations: a tree along the bank of a nearby river, and a set of marble stairs in one of the buildings. He approaches these places with a dark sense of foreboding, and we the readers begin to taste the tragedy in the novel after witnessing Gene's return to his old high school.
The novel revolves around Gene's best friend and roommate, Phineas (Finny). Finny is a dazzling, unforgettable character. He demonstrates extraordinary athleticism, heroic charisma, daring mischievousness, and a heart of gold. He walks, talks, and engages the world effortlessly--in stark contrast to Gene, who envies Finny's talent, social prowess, and naive goodness despite his own academic superiority. Gene's jealousy intensifies until one day, while the two young men are climbing a tree (the same tree mentioned earlier), Gene ever-so-slightly shakes the branch, causing Finny to fall and shatter his leg, permanently ending his illustrious athletic career. Months later, Finny discovers that Gene (whom he trusted as his best friend) was responsible for his fall. Devastated, Finny limps away and attempts to navigate the flight of marble steps, but he collapses and falls down the stairs. His leg breaks again, and he goes into surgery. Due to complications from the surgery, Finny dies on the operating table.
At Finny's funeral, the guilt-ridden Gene says that "I did not cry then or ever about Finny. . . I could not escape the feeling that this was my own funeral, and you do not cry in that case."
A Separate Peace explores a dark side of human nature. The same people who can laugh and experience beauty and joy are capable of inflicting unspeakable pain and suffering on one other. Gene becomes aware of the evil in himself, and when Finny dies, Gene realizes that his own goodness has died, too. Or something like that.
The theme of reality is intricately woven throughout A Separate Peace. Finny, despite being superhuman (at least in Gene's eyes), fails to accept reality. He once declares that "When you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love." Finny cannot comprehend the pain of unrequited love, nor does he understand the concept of war. For Finny, the world exists to be loved, and to love him in return. Yet somehow the war permeates the serene Devon School, and just like the warring nations of the world, Gene strikes out to hurt his friend.Perhaps reality fails to accept Finny. Mahasveta Devi said that "In this world, it has always happened that when a person takes on godhood upon himself, he is rejected by everyone and is left to die alone." Could Finny's goodness be seen as divine? In a way, perhaps. Gene describes the human tendency to fight and to construct walls of hostility between one another, but he says that "Phineas alone had escaped this. He possessed a serene capacity for affection which saved him. Nothing...had broken his harmonious and natural unity. So at last I had." Finny chose not to believe in the hostile aspects of human nature, and the world rejected him for it.
Stylistically, this novel is a masterpiece. If I could write like anyone, it would be John Knowles. He writes lavish, sensual prose with startlingly beautiful clarity and simplicity. Every sentence is made of gold. I cannot say enough good things about his writing style, so I'll stop now.
I've read A Separate Peace five times or so, and each time, I find that I understand the world slightly better. This book confronts the harsh depravity of human nature through the eyes of teenage boys. Despite the novel's tragic tone, I would say it offers a glimmer of hope. This novel is extraordinarily powerful, and I would wholeheartedly recommend it.
--Spence
Monday, November 5, 2012
Mort: The Book That Has a Bite
I'm not a fan of whiskey, I'll be the first to admit it. The entire experience isn't one that I necessarily enjoy; you know, with the whole burning of the throat, coughing up fire, and the general taste of what I imagine old Listerine to be like. But, apparently that's just the type of thing Dylan Thomas, a 1940s and 50s poet, would have settled down with after a long day of writing (or during writing, which ever seemed more suitable at the time). In fact, the guy died after taking 18 shots of straight whiskey one night. I thought that was impressive if nothing short of dramatic, especially for a guy who was once quoted saying, "An alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you."
Now, in a desperate attempt to connect whiskey with the novel, Mort, I can really see that there is no segue. We'll press on anyways. Terry Pratchett, the author of Mort and the creator of the Discworld fantasy series, is one of my favorite authors and deserves to be one of yours. He's a British writer that revels in the satirical and often times brings serious social issues into humorous light. His career started off as one that was meant to satirize and mock the fantasy genre (his stories all take place on a flat world known as the Disc, which is held up by four elephants all riding on the back of a giant turtle swimming through outer space), but has now turned it into a living. The fourth book in his 39 work series is Mort.
Mort is a brilliant novel that follows the life of a young boy whom the title is named after. He is a clumsy, air-headed boy who is hired on to be Death's apprentice at what appeared to be a medieval career fair. Although interning with The Thief of Years, Harvester of Mankind, and Usher of Souls sounds like a great opportunity to build the resume, Mort soon discovers that it's quite a killer on his love life. When Death suddenly springs the desire to discover what human joy and happiness is like, Mort is left to help carry souls across into the Great Beyond (or whatever Beyond those souls decide is best for them). Little does he know that in doing Death's job, he is slowly becoming like his Master.
This book bites with humor and satire so much as to say that you don't realize a joke has been made until the paragraph is over. It seems that almost every sentence is constructed to bring about a much larger joke as the novel progresses. Pratchett crafts his words and humor so fluidly that it's amazing how serious the overarching theme actually is. Mort is far more than a book about Death's apprentice, but about the meaning of justice and what it is to enact it or not. It's something that Mort wrestles with and another thing that Death can't fathom. Throughout the work, Death constantly reminds Mort that there is no good or bad justice in his line of work, there is only Death. This obviously doesn't sit well with the boy.
Despite the fact of whether you enjoy fantasy novels or not, at least one of Pratchett's works needs to occupy a spot on your shelf. He is a man that deals with social themes rather than concrete plot lines and deserves the attention of any reader willing to relax and be entertained in words rather than television.
-- Zach
Now, in a desperate attempt to connect whiskey with the novel, Mort, I can really see that there is no segue. We'll press on anyways. Terry Pratchett, the author of Mort and the creator of the Discworld fantasy series, is one of my favorite authors and deserves to be one of yours. He's a British writer that revels in the satirical and often times brings serious social issues into humorous light. His career started off as one that was meant to satirize and mock the fantasy genre (his stories all take place on a flat world known as the Disc, which is held up by four elephants all riding on the back of a giant turtle swimming through outer space), but has now turned it into a living. The fourth book in his 39 work series is Mort.
Mort is a brilliant novel that follows the life of a young boy whom the title is named after. He is a clumsy, air-headed boy who is hired on to be Death's apprentice at what appeared to be a medieval career fair. Although interning with The Thief of Years, Harvester of Mankind, and Usher of Souls sounds like a great opportunity to build the resume, Mort soon discovers that it's quite a killer on his love life. When Death suddenly springs the desire to discover what human joy and happiness is like, Mort is left to help carry souls across into the Great Beyond (or whatever Beyond those souls decide is best for them). Little does he know that in doing Death's job, he is slowly becoming like his Master.
This book bites with humor and satire so much as to say that you don't realize a joke has been made until the paragraph is over. It seems that almost every sentence is constructed to bring about a much larger joke as the novel progresses. Pratchett crafts his words and humor so fluidly that it's amazing how serious the overarching theme actually is. Mort is far more than a book about Death's apprentice, but about the meaning of justice and what it is to enact it or not. It's something that Mort wrestles with and another thing that Death can't fathom. Throughout the work, Death constantly reminds Mort that there is no good or bad justice in his line of work, there is only Death. This obviously doesn't sit well with the boy.
Despite the fact of whether you enjoy fantasy novels or not, at least one of Pratchett's works needs to occupy a spot on your shelf. He is a man that deals with social themes rather than concrete plot lines and deserves the attention of any reader willing to relax and be entertained in words rather than television.
-- Zach
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