Sunday, June 15, 2014

1Q84 - Murakami

At my suggestion, our bookclub's most recent selection is Murakami's 1Q84. An interesting factoid from Wikipedia: "The title is a play on the Japanese pronunciation of the year 1984 and a reference to George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four. The letter Q and the Japanese number 9 (typically romanized as "kyū", but as "kew" on the book's Japanese cover) are homophones, which are often used in Japanese wordplay."

It has been a while since I've read Murakami (previously: Kafka on the Shore; The Windup Bird Chronicle), and as always, I was struck by the believability of his characters, whose inner monologues are powerfully, resonantly realistic, and the vividness of his imagery despite his relatively sparse prose (at least in the translation!). This one was a little surreal and overly sentimental for my taste at times, but I still really enjoyed it for the reasons previously mentioned. I also LOVED the Town of Cats story told within the novel:

In the story, a young man is travelling alone with no particular destination in mind. He rides the train and gets off at any stop that arouses his interest. He takes a room, sees the sights, and stays for as long as he likes. When he has had enough, he boards another train. He spends every vacation this way. 
One day, he sees a lovely river from the train window. Gentle green hills line the meandering stream, and below them lies a pretty little town with an old stone bridge. The train stops at the town’s station, and the young man steps down with his bag. No one else gets off, and, as soon as he alights, the train departs. 
No workers man the station, which must see very little activity. The young man crosses the bridge and walks into the town. All the shops are shuttered, the town hall deserted. No one occupies the desk at the town’s only hotel. The place seems totally uninhabited. Perhaps all the people are off napping somewhere. But it is only ten-thirty in the morning, far too early for that. Perhaps something has caused all the people to abandon the town. In any case, the next train will not come until the following morning, so he has no choice but to spend the night here. He wanders around the town to kill time. 
In fact, this is a town of cats. When the sun starts to go down, many cats come trooping across the bridge—cats of all different kinds and colors. They are much larger than ordinary cats, but they are still cats. The young man is shocked by this sight. He rushes into the bell tower in the center of town and climbs to the top to hide. The cats go about their business, raising the shop shutters or seating themselves at their desks to start their day’s work. Soon, more cats come, crossing the bridge into town like the others. They enter the shops to buy things or go to the town hall to handle administrative matters or eat a meal at the hotel restaurant or drink beer at the tavern and sing lively cat songs. Because cats can see in the dark, they need almost no lights, but that particular night the glow of the full moon floods the town, enabling the young man to see every detail from his perch in the bell tower. When dawn approaches, the cats finish their work, close up the shops, and swarm back across the bridge. 
By the time the sun comes up, the cats are gone, and the town is deserted again. The young man climbs down, picks one of the hotel beds for himself, and goes to sleep. When he gets hungry, he eats some bread and fish that have been left in the hotel kitchen. When darkness approaches, he hides in the bell tower again and observes the cats’ activities until dawn. Trains stop at the station before noon and in the late afternoon. No passengers alight, and no one boards, either. Still, the trains stop at the station for exactly one minute, then pull out again. He could take one of these trains and leave the creepy cat town behind. But he doesn’t. Being young, he has a lively curiosity and is ready for adventure. He wants to see more of this strange spectacle. If possible, he wants to find out when and how this place became a town of cats. 
On his third night, a hubbub breaks out in the square below the bell tower. “Hey, do you smell something human?” one of the cats says. “Now that you mention it, I thought there was a funny smell the past few days,” another chimes in, twitching his nose. “Me, too,” yet another cat says. “That’s weird. There shouldn’t be any humans here,” someone adds. “No, of course not. There’s no way a human could get into this town of cats.” “But that smell is definitely here.” 
The cats form groups and begin to search the town like bands of vigilantes. It takes them very little time to discover that the bell tower is the source of the smell. The young man hears their soft paws padding up the stairs. That’s it, they’ve got me! he thinks. His smell seems to have roused the cats to anger. Humans are not supposed to set foot in this town. The cats have big, sharp claws and white fangs. He has no idea what terrible fate awaits him if he is discovered, but he is sure that they will not let him leave the town alive. 
Three cats climb to the top of the bell tower and sniff the air. “Strange,” one cat says, twitching his whiskers, “I smell a human, but there’s no one here.” 
“It is strange,” a second cat says. “But there really isn’t anyone here. Let’s go and look somewhere else.” 
The cats cock their heads, puzzled, then retreat down the stairs. The young man hears their footsteps fading into the dark of night. He breathes a sigh of relief, but he doesn’t understand what just happened. There was no way they could have missed him. But for some reason they didn’t see him. In any case, he decides that when morning comes he will go to the station and take the train out of this town. His luck can’t last forever. 
The next morning, however, the train does not stop at the station. He watches it pass by without slowing down. The afternoon train does the same. He can see the engineer seated at the controls. But the train shows no sign of stopping. It is as though no one can see the young man waiting for a train—or even see the station itself. Once the afternoon train disappears down the track, the place grows quieter than ever. The sun begins to sink. It is time for the cats to come. The young man knows that he is irretrievably lost. This is no town of cats, he finally realizes. It is the place where he is meant to be lost. It is another world, which has been prepared especially for him. And never again, for all eternity, will the train stop at this station to take him back to the world he came from.

It sort of reminds me of what happens to the girl's parents in Spirited Away, except that there is no possibility for redemption in this world.

Of Human Bondage - Maugham

After reading Dad's review, I decided to check out Maugham's Of Human Bondage. It was a very interesting tale of a neurotic young man afflicted with a clubfoot, and his coming of age in England and France during the late 18 and early 1900s. Although it starts off fairly slowly (the tale begins in Philip's youth), it builds powerfully and is a very captivating read.

I don't have much to add to Dad's review, except to say that it is filled with interesting bits of Philip's evolving philosophy, such as when he thinks:
Society had three arms in its contest with the individual: laws, public opinion, and conscience; the first two could be met by guile, guile is the only weapon of the weak against the strong... but conscience was the traitor within the gates; it fought in each heart the battle of society, and caused the individual to throw himself, a wanton sacrifice, to the prosperity of his enemy.

Friday, May 30, 2014

Pattern Recognition - William Gibson

Another brilliant book by Gibson, and the first in the Blue Ant/Hubertus Bigend trilogy. The likable but neurotic protgagonist, Cayce (pronounced "Case"), is a coolhunter - a precog who uses her sensitivity to brands and logos to serve as a consultant to major franchises, helping them make branding choices based on what she senses will become trendy or not. In her spare time, Cayce and her online otaku friends obsess over "the footage" - segments of breathtaking, unearthly films scattered across the net, discovered a fragment at a time. Cayce's life changes when an exceptionally powerful employer hires her for a special consulting job, and draws her into a web of intrigue, Soviet mafia, and mystery...

I also really identified with Cayce, and many of her reflections resonated with me, such as, "Does she feel liminal, now, or simply directionless?"

Gibson's 3 Trilogies:

The Sprawl Trilogy:
The Bridge Trilogy:
The Bigend Books:

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Zodiac - Neal Stephenson

Finished reading Stephenson's (1988) Zodiac this weekend. It was weird, to say the least, and definitely seemed less mature than other works of his that I've read (not surprising, it's his 2nd book, written before Snow Crash). It's the tale of S.T., a nonviolent ecoterrorist who brings polluting companies to justice by zipping around on his Zodiac (high-powered motored raft) plugging up waste pipes in the Boston Harbor and exposing the offenders to media ridicule. A quick and easy read, not one I'd necessarily recommend.

Book Challenge 2014 stats: 15/65 (23%), 11 books behind schedule. (Although I've now read 2 more books thus far in 2014 than I did in all of 2013!)

Stephenson's Novels

Friday, May 23, 2014

Of Human Bondage

I quite enjoyed Cakes and Ale by Somerset Maugham, a short, breezy story of a young man entranced by an unusual couple.  So I was very interested in reading Of Human Bondage, generally regarded as Maugham's masterpiece.  The book deals with limitations, or bonds, imposed by accidents of class or wealth, but the main bondage experienced by the protagonist, Philip Carey, is his obsession with a low-class, self-absorbed and cruel waitress.  Obsessions are often treated in contemporary culture as highly-charged fixations that are potentially good things, unfortunately "carried to an extreme" - but Philip Carey's obsession is incomprehensible, degrading, and pathetic.  Contrasted with this main story line, Maugham very effectively captures moments of joy or beauty, although such moments are rare in this book. Also, Maugham is especially gifted at depicting ordinary events that suddenly turn deeply sad or hopeless - some of these scenes are heartrending.  While living in Paris with the aspiration of becoming a painter, Philip becomes acquainted with Cronshaw, an older, successful poet and, when he had been drinking, a fascinating conversationalist:
    But this evening, Philip wanted to talk about himself.  Fortunately it was late already and Cronshaw's pile of saucers on the table, each indicating a drink, suggested that he was prepared to take an independent view of things in general. "I wonder if you'd give me some advice," said Philip suddenly.
    "You won't take it, will you?"
    Philip shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
    "I don't believe I shall ever do much good as a painter.  I don't see any use in being second-rate.  I'm thinking of chucking it."
    "Why shouldn't you?"
    Philip hesitated for an instant.
    "I suppose I like the life."
    A change came over Cronshaw's placid, round face.  The corners of the mouth were suddenly depressed, the eyes sunk dully in their orbits; he seemed to become strangely bowed and old.
    "This? he cried, looking round the cafe in which they sat.  His voice really trembled a little.  "If you can get out of it, do while there's time."
    Philip stared at him with astonishment, but the sight of emotion always made him feel shy, and he dropped his eyes.  He knew that he was looking upon the tragedy of failure.  There was silence.  Philip thought that Cronshaw was looking upon his own life; and perhaps he considered his youth with its bright hopes and the disappointments that wore out the the radiancy; the wretched monotony of pleasure, and the black future.  Philip's eyes rested on the little pile of saucers, and he knew that Cronshaw's were on them too.
It may not exactly sound like it from this review, but I really liked this book.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

The Signal and the Noise

This very fascinating book by Nate Silver, of 538.com and NY Times fame, was recommended by Jesse and a geneticist friend, Anil Menon - and it's a winner!  The book is all about predictions - in this era of "big data", one might think that we would be able to make more and more accurate predictions, yet Silver shows that this is not the case.  He looks closely at several fields in which predictions are crucial - weather, earthquakes, climate change and others - and shows that predictions have become more accurate in some of these (weather), but not others (climate change and earthquakes) - and discusses why this is so.  The book sounds very wonky - Bayesian statistics are discussed at some length - but it is exceptionally readable and enjoyable.   Silver's writing seems like speech - it probably was dictated - and he has a whimsical sense of humor that catches you by surprise - he's laugh out loud funny.  He discusses Isaiah Berlin and hedgehogs and foxes (see Berlin's essay) to describe effective predictors (foxes) versus ineffective predictors (hedgehogs).  Really absorbing and informative.  Very highly recommended.  I plan to re-read it soon!

Gold in the Water

A very readable book that provides a realistic picture of the dedication and struggles of Olympic aspirants.  Certainly this would be of greatest interest to swimming fans, though I did not know any of the swimmers who were featured in the book, yet still found it engrossing.  The book is quite interesting in its depiction of the different swimmer-coach relationships, in the astonishing commitment that is required for such high-level training and the kinds of mental and physical events that can so easily disrupt the training.  Inevitably, it's a story of some partially-fulfilled success and a great deal of deep disappointment.  The coach who is profiled here, Dick Jochums, is totally committed to his swimmers and aims to teach them that the struggle for Olympic success is a worthy endeavor whether achieved or not, because it is essentially training for how to live one's life - with full commitment and satisfaction obtained by giving your utmost, regardless of the outcome.