What I’ve Been Reading

I’ve been reading some good books recently, too many to address individually, so I thought I’d do one of those quick surveys I used to do.

Gary Barwin’s No TV For Woodpeckers – Gary Barwin never writes the same book twice, not remotely, and yet all of his books are worth reading, which is one of the better compliments I can offer an author. I reviewed No TV For Woodpeckers for the Rusty Toque, so you can get a fuller idea of what I think of it there. I’ll just say here that barwin does some fascinating things with proper names in these poems, and that the collection as a whole creates a unique and poetic sense of place.

Shane Neilson’s Dysphoria – There is no poet in Canada who provokes my emotions so deeply as Shane Neilson, to say nothing of what he accomplishes technically and formally. This collection is no exception. It’s a remarkable volume. Again, I’ve reviewed it at length elsewhere, for Contemporary Verse 2 (though there’s no electronic version of it, so you’ll just have to go get the Summer issue for yourself). Whether you read the review or not, do read Dysphoria (in fact, just read all of Neilson’s books).

Paul Auster’s 4321 – This is a crazy, amazing book, but I can’t recommend it without proviso. It’s long. It’s structurally experimental. It’s written almost entirely without dialogue. In other words, it’s not an easy read. It’s not a page-turner. It won’t keep you up all night. You will absolutely be able (tempted?) to put it down. But it’s also very much worth reading. Book some time for it, but get it done.

George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo – This book is a marvel –  historical scholarship mashed with historical fantasy in ways that you will never have seen before. The dialogue in some places is an absolute wonder, simultaneously farcical and moving. I read the whole book in one go at the bar one evening (a six pint book), then read it again more slowly over the next few days – loved it both times.

George Elliott Clarke’s Gold – Clarke was the first Canadian poet I ever read who I didn’t hate. I’d been fed a whole series of very “Canadian” poems by highschool teachers, all without any real context or biography or, well, anything. Then I picked up Clarke’s Whylah Falls and fell in love. Gold doesn’t strike me with the same power, but it has some great bits. The erotic sonnets in the middle are particularly wonderful.

James Lipton’s An Exultation of Larks – This is an older book (published in 1968), and it’s a book that will appeal most to word nerds. It explores the linguistic form of venery (a pride of lions, a flock of sheep, a gaggle of geese, and so forth). It’s a cute book, with lots of trips down etymology lane. It may not amuse you, but it amused me.

David Foster Wallace’s The Broom of the System – I have managed to avoid David Foster Wallace until now. I’m not entirely sure how. I made serious notes to myself several times over the years about intending to read him, but always seemed to get distracted by one thing or another. Learn from my error. Grab this book, especially if you’re a fan of the slightly surreal. Some of the scenes are masterfully absurd, but the larger story never falls incomprehensibility. I’m picking up Wallace’s Infinite Jest next.

 

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