Roth and his prose

No real reason to post this except that I copied it down the other day. But I find it quite apt to my own life and experiences. It's from Philip Roth's Sabbath Theater:

"The goofiness you must get yourself into to get where you have to go, the extent of the mistakes you are required to make! If they told you beforehand about all the mistakes, you'd say no, I can't do it, you'll have to get somebody else, I'm too smart to make all those mistakes. And they would tell you, we have faith, don't worry, and you would say no, no way, you need a much bigger schmuck than me, but they repeat they have faith that you are the one, that you will evolve into a colossal schmuck more conscientiously than you can possibly begin to imagine, you will mistakes on a scale you can't even dream of now - because there is no other way to reach the end."

"You should read this author. You'll like him"

About a year and a half ago, my friend R. brought over a book as an apartment-warming gift: Tim Winton's The Turning. He had told me about this book a few years back and how much he loved it. Naturally, he figured I'd adore it too. I had heard a lot about Winton but had never read him, and appreciated R.'s gesture in buying me one of his favourite books. I had a couple of other books on the go at the time, so I didn't end up picking it up for about a month.

Now I had half-a-feeling that the Winton book would be tough for me. For one, according to the back-cover blurb, the stories were "set in small-town Western Australia." That was an immediate red flag: while I do try my best to read things outside of my comfort zone, I'll admit that I've always struggled with stories based solely in rural settings. It's a bias, for sure, but a bias nonetheless that is difficult for me to overcome. (I guess that's the inherent nature of a bias...) Moreover, it's a book of short stories, albeit "overlapping," which is also not my default reading pleasure. I much prefer the full-length novel - something I can truly sink my teeth into. Still, this was a gift, and my friend R. is a learned and curious reader, so I was willing to unshackle my natural inclinations to ignore this type of work and give it a shot. More important, interesting and well-wrought characters and stories should be interesting and well-wrought regardless of the setting, yes?

Well, I only made it to page 19 (the book mark is still there), so not even two complete stories. I figured my mood at the time wasn't right for this book, so I put it down, determined to give it another go later in the year. However a whole slew of other books got in the way, so the Winton was left to gather dust on my "to read" shelf. R. asked me a couple of months after giving me the book whether I had read it and enjoyed it, and felt the need to come clean and said that I tried it but just "couldn't get a handle on it." I then admitted my struggles with books set outside urban areas (I think I might have used the phrase "in the bush"), but that I would eventually read it.

Anyway I was out at R.'s last night - we brought over a wonderful late harvest Riesling along with some cheese, pears and apples - and we got to talking about the Philip Roth book, Sabbath's Theater, I had just finished about 30 minutes before arriving at his place. I was waxing (probably not very eloquently though) on how wonderful the book was - Tier A Roth, which in my eyes is Tier A literature. To my surprise, R. admitted that he didn't much like Roth! "So now we're even!" I said, recounting my struggles with the Winton. When we thought about it some more, it made some sense that we didn't like each other's favourite authors: despite our friendship and apparent similarities, we don't have shared sensibilities when it comes to literature.

But we did end up striking a deal: that I would give a more earnest attempt at the Winton if he would give Roth a fighting chance. I'm picking one of the easy Roth books for him: The Ghost Writer. It's the one I tend to recommend for those who have never read Roth since it's fairly short, tightly written, and doesn't meander off into crazy flights of prose and narrative as other Roth novels are wont to do. (Of course that's one of the things I love about his work, but recognize it's not something others tend to enjoy.) It's a pure pleasure from beginning to end, at least for me. (My friend H. told me he reads this book every second year, and he's not the biggest Roth fan.)

So it's onwards to Tim Winton's The Turning! Once I start and finish Martha Baillie's The Incident Report first, of course. It's due next week at the library.

Revisiting, reevaluating

There are two themes to my reading this year. The first is that I've been reading a lot of "big" books. That was especially true early in 2009 when I read Roberto Bolano's 2666 and Tolstoy's (no first name necessary) Anna Karenina, pretty much back to back. I used to joke that I have the attention span of a gnat (without knowing, of course, if a gnat indeed has a limited attention span; but it sounded good), and that I was never much good at reading anything above, say, 300 pages. Although I've read large-ish tomes in the past - Norman Mailer's Executioner's Song comes to mind (all 1000 pages or so of it!), and as a teen I read Stephen King's massive It (it was a b-day gift from my parents, who figured because I enjoyed reading that I'd like the book that was #1 on the best-seller's list that year) - I tend toward more manageable works. You know, the ones around 200 to 250 pages.

I expanded my horizons this year though and pulled off the shelf some larger works. Bolano's 2666 was a no-brainer. Since devouring his Savage Detectives (yes, it's a long novel!) during the 2007 xmas season, I was hooked on the guy's work. I bought 2666 (at my local bookstore - remember to support your local book shop) about a week after it was released, with the intent of saving it for the 2008 xmas season when I had two full weeks off to devote to nothing more than reading and loafing (two of my fave activities). What a joy it was to spend time in Bolano's world for approximately 950 pages. (I can't fact check the exact page count; I've lent the book to a friend.) And reading Anna Karenina ... well, what could I possibly add to the far-more intelligent insights already out there on the novel? As I've said many times since: "That Anna Karenina, I think it's a classic."

Which brings me to the second theme of my reading year: re-reading. After I finished 2666, and after reading an article (sorry I can't link to it since I don't remember where I saw it) that suggested a clue to the 2666 title could be found toward the end of Savage Detectives, I decided to re-read Savage. Although I consider myself a somewhat-serious reader, I've never been one to re-read a work. My argument? There are far too many books to read once, so why bother picking up something I've already finished?

Upon reflection, and as I continue to read for the second time the wonderful first Zuckerman trilogy (+ the final Zuckerman book, Exit Ghost, which I'm about halfway through) by Philip Roth, I realize how shortsighted this "no re-read" strategy is. The Zuckerman books mean so much more to me now than they did on my first read over 10 years ago. For one, I'm in a better space to better understand the works - I have more life experience (I almost used the word "maturity," but fear it might be a misuse of that word...), for one, and I'm far-more self-reflective. The novels speak to me in ways they couldn't when I first read them while in my early 20s. The reading experience is totally different - it's more fulfilling in so many ways.

All hail to the re-read!