Readings for June 28, 2023

I've got a lot to share this month

This month has been heavy on reading for a variety of reasons. Now that I think about it, it’s really been heavy on reading for one reason: I changed my summer school schedule. In March I planned to take a three-week summer school philosophy course as an elective. It was the best option that also met the requirements for my master’s degree in English. It was also on campus, so I made travel plans.

Plot twist! I got an email exactly two weeks before my plane was scheduled to take off for Boston saying that the requirements for my degree had changed. I no longer needed to take that elective philosophy course. I no longer needed to travel. The inside of my skull went completely blank at this news. I had no idea what to do with it. I sat with my mouth open and my head in my hands as I stared at my email without a single thought in my head. Should I still go as planned? Should I cancel the whole thing?

I checked deadlines for my short-term rental and my flight and my ability to change courses. I had a few days. I chose a middle way: visit campus for a week (rather than three weeks) to talk to my professors and take advantage of being on-site at school, then switch my course schedule to take an English class that I was really interested in and that also fulfilled the new requirements. And, bonus, I got most of my travel costs back.

Because summer courses are full semesters compressed into three or seven weeks, the pace is fast. Former students all recommended reading everything on the syllabus in advance. So I did—for both classes. Here’s some of the highlights (or lowlights):

  • Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard. I know this is a classic of the nature-writing genre, and I know it is beloved. I did not like it.
  • The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky. I listened to this one as an audiobook from the library — 30+ hours! I had to put it 1.5x to make it through, and I admit that my mind wandered.
  • Eichmann in Jerusalem, Hannah Arendt. This one I enjoyed very much. I read the version published in the New Yorker years ago via the magazine’s digital archives. It is more wry than you might expect while being exactly as insightful as you probably expect. If you take nothing else away from it, remember to be like Denmark, where the antifascist culture was so pervasive even the Nazis were like, “Nah, we’d rather not be terrible.”
  • Timaeus and Critias, Plato. I’ve not really read Plato’s dialogs before, but this one was very readable and, dare I say, fun. I used the Penguin edition translated and annotated by T. K. Johansen.
  • The Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon. I’d read this book in my early twenties, and I’ve read most of Pynchon’s novels. I like Mason & Dixon, which lots of people like, and Against the Day, which almost no one likes. It was interesting to revisit this one after it had been sitting on my shelf for twenty-plus years. This book, like Long Live the Post Horn by Vigdis Hjorth, is in the postal service intrigue tradition.
  • The Intuitionist, Colson Whitehead. I’d had this one on my to-read list for years, so I was glad to have a reason to get around with it. I’m currently in the midst of an obsession with the main character, Lila Mae. This book is in the elevator noir tradition.
  • Through the Arc of the Rain Forest, Karen Tei Yamashita. A new author for me, and I very much enjoyed this book. It would probably be called magical realism, which I’m not usually a fan of, but this one had a lot of delightfully weird shit and a huge heart.
  • Point Omega, Don DeLillo. As I explained to my professor, I can see what DeLillo is doing. I see his intent, I see his techniques, I see his craft, and I think he succeeds in his novels. But I do not like them very much, this one included. At least it’s very short.

When I wasn’t reading for class, I was reading a lot of essays and articles for fun. Not to brag, but I’m nearly caught up on my London Review of Books subscription. If you’d like shorter pieces, here are my recommendations, most of which are recent-ish for once:

  • What Bob Dylan Wanted at Twenty-Three,” Nat Hentoff, New Yorker. This one is technically not recent, since it was published in 1964. But the NYer made it available from their archive, and it is fascinating to be in the room while Dylan records “My Back Pages.”
  • A Life of Splendid Uselessness Is a Life Well Lived,” Joseph M. Keegan, Psyche. A double review that connects nature writing with punk band the Minuteman. A sample: “Great art and thought have always been motivated by something other than mere moneymaking, even if moneymaking happened somewhere along the way. But our culture of instrumentality has settled like a thick fog over the idea that some activities are worth pursuing simply because they share in the beautiful, the good, or the true.”
  • Snapshots of the End of Travel,” Amy Benson. I read this long essay on the ethics of travel in a world of climate change and cultural homogenization on the plane back from school. I used to travel a lot, and then (like everyone) I didn’t travel at all. Now I’m wondering about the future of travel for myself, and I appreciated Benson’s consideration as I figure that out.
  • Young People Have No Idea What We Used to Do After Work. Let Me Regale You,” Dan Kois, Slate. As I flew home, I was singing “The Arrivals Gate” by Ani DiFranco in my head and realized there are adults who will not have seen for themselves the imagery depicted in that song. Then I read this article, which is basically saying the same thing.
  • Parker Posey Doesn’t Know If She Can Live in New York,” Choire Sicha, Vulture. Parker Posey continues to be a delight. A sample: “I am not on Instagram anymore, because [dramatic pause] I forgot my password. I tried and after, like, three times, I said, ‘You know what? It’s not meant to be.’”
  • Alexandra David-Neel,” David Guy, Tricycle. A quick overview of the life of French writer, explorer, Buddhist, and linguist Alexandra David-Neel. She is fascinating to me.

I’m still working on my translation of a nineteenth-century courtesan’s memoirs. I have a lot of news on that front too, but I’ll save it for another post. The project remains on schedule, so you can expect to see it in print in January 2024.

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