The New York Review of Books (7 March 2013)

Below are the books self is interested in reading after perusing the 7 March 2013 issue of The New York Review of Books.  Her choices are nothing if not idiosyncratic:

Former People:  The Final Days of the Russian Aristocracy, by Douglas Smith:  reviewed by Michael Scammell (Self admires the title of this book tremendously; she, too, has felt, many times, like a “former people.”)

Now All Roads Lead to France:  A Life of Edward Thomas, by Matthew Hollis:  reviewed by Helen Vendler.  In a nutshell:  “Thomas meets Frost in London in 1913, begins (for the first time since Oxford) to write poetry, feels guilty (in complex ways, including the fear of cowardice) about watching others die while he remains at home, decides to enlist, trains as an officer (in part for the higher pay), volunteers for the front, and courts death.  When the death arrives (from a bomb blast in Arras) it is both shocking and unsurprising.” Tragic.

Several books about General David Petraeus, reviewed by Thomas Powers:

  • The Insurgents:  David Petraeus and the Plot to Change the American Way of War, by Fred Kaplan
  • The Fourth Star:  Four Generals and the Epic Struggle for the Future of the United States Army, by David Cloud and Greg Jaffe

In the course of the review, Powers cites three other fascinating books:

  • The Centurions, a novel by Jean Lartéguy, about the lessons learned by French army officers captured by the Vietminh at Dien Bien Phu (“You’ve got to have people on your side . . . if you want to win a war.”)
  • Street Without Joy, a “history of the long French failure in Vietnam,” by the French writer Bernard B. Fall
  • Hell in a Very Small Place, also by Bernard B. Fall, about “a set-piece battle at Dien Bien Phu in 1954.”

And now, self must get going if she wants to catch the Menlo Park Farmers Market.

Arrivederci, dear ones.

Fiona Maazel’s End Paper Essay in the NYTBR (31 March 2013)

Too tired to do much except quote, this evening.  Bella The Ancient One seems uncommonly hungry.

The excerpt below is from Fiona Maazel’s very interesting essay, “A Crack in the Darkness,” in the NYTBR of 31 March 2013:

That old dictum, write what you know?  I’ve always thought that was terrible advice.  Most of us don’t know much.  And what we do know can feel shopworn in the retelling.  Shopworn or just divested of emotional content.  Sometimes, the things we’re closest to –  in our lives, for instance –  are the very things we least want to examine with rigor.

So I prefer:  Write what you can learn about.  Alternately:  write what interests you.  Because it interests you for a reason, and that reason probably has to do with the rough stuff of your inner life.  Put differently, writing about things you don’t know seems a useful, albeit sneaky, gateway to material you cannot access otherwise.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

More of DON QUIJOTE (Vol. 2, Chapter 10 of the Translation by Burton Raffel)

The writing of Miguel Cervantes (and the translation by Burton Raffel) is so beguiling.  Self is only about halfway through the novel.  She hopes she doesn’t have to lug this hefty novel all the way to Venice!  It would take up about a quarter of her small suitcase.  Without further ado:

Volume 2, Chapter 10

–  in which we are told how skilfully Sancho enchanted the lady Dulcinea, along with other events quite as ridiculous as truthful

As the author of this great history reaches the events narrated in this chapter, he records that he would have liked to pass over them in silence, afraid that no one would believe him, for here Don Quijote’s madness reaches almost unimaginable levels, and then goes still farther.  But, in the end, although haunted by this fear, this self-mistrust, he wrote it all down exactly as it happened, neither adding nor subtracting from his history a single atom of truth, utterly indifferent to the possibility of being called a liar — and he was right to do so, for although truth may be stretched and grow thin, it does not break, flowing along over any and all lies like oil on water.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

The Story “Thing” (New Orleans Review, Vol. 38.1, 2012) and the Photography of Stella Kalaw

Stella K has a pair of photographs on her site that seem to embody the ineffable.  They’re landscape photographs, but –  it’s hard to tell what’s below the horizon in the first photograph.  Could that be a city?  The ruins of a city?

The second photograph has branches –  sticks, really — rising out of what could be a marsh, a swamp, mist.

Stella’s photographs always lead self to imagine a story.  That must be because, even though self’s medium is language, stories come to her in images, flashes, fragments.

There is something really powerful that happens –  emotionally –  to self when she ponders Stella’s work.

So here’s a story, “Thing,” which is set After the Apocalypse, in Outlier Rehabiliation Center Sector V:

Caesar tells stories late at night if we can’t sleep.  He is old.  Old enough to remember a time when there were factories and pigs were processed night and day, when the smell of pig blood lingered over everything.  He remembers a time when people ate every part of the pigs:  ears, eyes, even entrails.  Pork fat was used in cakes, and in bread.  I try to imagine a cake.

The factories still cry out.  When we hear the keening sound, we know it is the herd of ghost pigs, running into walls and crying because they can never find their way out.  They are inside people’s heads, like the memories of old ways.  And when people’s heads get too full of the memories, the first ones to tumble out are the pigs, running every which way and squealing.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

The Writer at 16: “Bivouac,” Part II

“Bivouac,” Part II

Elena and some of the other girls spent the hours before lunch gathering colorful stones to take back as souvenirs to Manila.  Their fair skin blushed an angry red because of the intense heat, perspiration gleamed on their necks and backs, and the hot rocks baked their feet, but they were happier than when they had been lying in the flimsy tents with the darkness assaulting their senses.

Elena was reminded of Matabungkay, where she and her family used to spend long weekends.  There was the same laughter hanging in the air, the same feeling of companionship.  She wished she could remain on the beach the whole day, but the sergeant had announced that morning that they were going on a hike to the tunnel the Americans had built on the other side of the island during World War II.  He had sounded as apologetic as ever, and blushed ridiculously for a grown man.

(If self had remained in the Philippines, she probably would have continued writing like this:  unhurried descriptions, langurous moods.  But –  water under the bridge.  Now she is here, and she has perfected the art of telegraphing emotion in very short, spare pieces.  Probably because, here, she is always pressed for time!)

Lists, January 2013 Edition

The most number of years between visits to Manila:  5

The longest self has ever stayed in Manila since she left for grad school:  4 months

How long it took her to see Ground Zero after 9/11:  7 months

The number of years it took her to produce her one 9/11 story:  8 years

The number of pages in her 9/11 story:  4 pages

The number of pages in Ginseng and Other Tales From Manila:  100

The number of pages in Mayor of the Roses, her second collection:  181

The number of pages in The Lost Language, her third collection:  153

The number of pages in her novella, Jenalyn, out this month from Vagabondage Press:  80

The number of years it took for her to complete her fourth collection, Magellan’s Mirror:  4

The number of years it took her to find the right ending for “Silence,” the story that was shortlisted for the O. Henry Literature Prize:  3

Total number of years she spent in Stanford as a grad student, first in East Asian Studies and then in English with a concentration in Creative Writing:  4

Number of books she read in 2012:  39

Number of books she read in 2011:  44

The longest period of time between checks of Facebook:  a few hours

The number of times she has been to Corregidor:  2

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

1st Saturday of 2013: At the Asian Art Museum

Asian Art Museum, Interactive Installation:  Viewers write notes to the person or thing or place they miss, then pin them to the tree.

Asian Art Museum, Interactive Installation: Viewers write notes to the person or thing or place they miss, then pin them to the tree.

Took son and Kramer to the Asian Art Museum today and caught “Out of Character:  Decoding Chinese Calligraphy.”  Also walked from the museum to the Shooting Gallery, and saw “Steppe Warriors:  New Works by Zaya,” which closes today.

Zaya’s paintings were exquisite in their detail and stylization.  Self loved the kinetic depiction of horses and waves.  Self’s favorite of the dozen or so paintings was one depicting the Mongol invasion of Japan.  On the upper right hand corner were a group of Japanese notables, all dressed in sumptuous kimonos, sitting with extreme poker faces as they watched the arrival of the ships bearing the Mongol army.  A few soldiers had already been engaged:  it seemed the Mongol invaders had the upper hand, for armor-clad Japanese soldiers were already shown expiring on the ground.

And here are a few observations about the calligraphy exhibit at the Asian Art Museum:

  • There was one monstrous scroll painting: Self wished there had been more.  She must confess to feeling a wee bit disappointed:  she loves the huge calligraphic “slash-and-burn” hanging scrolls because there is such power and concentration in each gigantic stroke of the brush.
  • Much of the calligraphic artwork on display was on loan from the private collection of Jerry Yang, co-founder of Yahoo.  Self never knew that Yang was born and grew up in Taiwan.  Funny, she always thought of him as an Asian American Stanford kid.
  • There is a behemoth of a book in the gift shop, Five Centuries of Chinese Painting, written by self’s former Stanford professor, Michael Sullivan.

Here are a few notes self scribbled from the (free) audio tour:

  • In calligraphy, the creative act is visible.  This visibility is central to the work.  And it’s also what makes calligraphy such an exciting medium.  The Man said he wished he knew what the characters meant.  Self was so absorbed in imagining the power of the brush stroke and in examining the geometry of the individual characters that she forgot she was looking at representations of language.  Whenever self sees calligraphy, it moves her.  She thinks:  Slash and burn.  Slash and burn.
  • The exhibit included modern artists who had been inspired by calligraphy.  One artist, Brice Marsden, said, “I use the form of calligraphy, and then it disappears.”  Funny, that’s how self begins some of her favorite short shorts.  She begins with the structure –  perhaps from a story or a poem she is currently reading.  As she writes, the model disappears, melts away.  All she is left with are the bones of her story.
  • She’s not sure if it was also Marsden who said:  “The act of creativity existed in the mind before the brush touched the paper.”  That’s right!  That’s how self begins most of her short stories!  She’ll be washing dishes or doing laundry, and then, SHAZZAM!  The first step of writing is in her mind –  usually as she’s doing homely chores.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Personal Library 14

And it’s back to the book tabulation!

So far, here’s the count:

539 + 47 = 586 total books counted so far

Self is on the third shelf of Bookcase # 2 in the dining room.

Books on this shelf include:  Writers at Work:  The Paris Review Interviews, edited by Malcolm Crowley; Becoming the Butlers, by Pamela Brandt!  Self’s dear, dear friend; Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell;  The Tragedy of the Chinese Revolution, by Harold R. Isaacs, 2nd revised edition;  Wings of Stone, by Linda Ty-Casper;  Philippine Fiction, edited by Joseph A. Galdon;  A Stranger in This World:  Stories, by Kevin Canty;  Like Never Before, by Ehud Havazelet;  Dreaming in Cuban, by Cristina Garcia;  Bright Lights, Big City, by Jay McInerney;  A Passage to India, by E. M. Forster;  Under the Volcano, by Malcolm Lowry;  My Merry Mornings, by Ivan Klima, translated by George Theiner;  Parade’s End, by Ford Madox Ford;  The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton; Mens Rea and Other Stories, by Lakambini Sitoy.

Self is still fascinated by this project.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

You Asked For It, You Got It!

More answers for the “Next Big Thing” Meme (Apologies for being two days late!)

Question # 7:  How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Self has two current book projects:  a short story collection called Magellan’s Mirror, and a novel (her first!) called The Vanquished.

The title story of the short story collection Magellan’s Mirror –  self began that story sometime in 2009 (A handful go as far back as 2006).  The other stories are mostly since that period.  The draft will never be finished.  Until the manuscript gets accepted by a publisher, self will just keep working and adding and revising.  So, let’s say the collection gets picked up in 2015, and self gets to answer this question again:  At that point, she can say, “Six years.” But until then, who knows?

As for The Vanquished –  she started the book with the events that are now in Chapter 2.  That was sometime 2009 as well.  Whoa!  That was truly a watershed year for self, writing-wise!  2009 was also the year Anvil brought out The Lost Language.  It was a year after self’s sister-in-law, Ying, passed away.  Whenever someone in self’s family dies, it just lights a fire under self.  It’s how she “deals” –  with anything hurtful.  By writing.  So, bring on the hurt, World!

About Ying:  She was so proud of self’s writing.  Self got a lot of inspiration from her.  Self wrote a story called “The Peacock,” about a trip she and Ying took to Angkor Wat.  It’s so far not published, but that story is largely about the time she and Ying were in Siem Reap.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

More Answers For That Meme (“The Next Big Thing”)

6.  Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency/ publisher?

Self doesn’t know.  It all depends on how lucky she is.

In the meantime, self is trying small presses.  You don’t need an agent to send to a small press.

Which small presses?  I’ve already been rejected by Coffee House Press.

If she has to, she will go the self-publishing route.  That is, if she were really in a hurry.

But self is not in a hurry.  She is a caterpillar, and the future is still full of possibility –  In other words, ahead there is still the cocoon and –  VOILA! — metamorphosis!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

« Older entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 161 other followers