Books for Asia

Should Books for Asia be sending what we deem to be a good children’s book to a school in Thailand? It was a twitter post by Nicholas Kristof, a reporter for the NY Times, that put me on to this. Regular readers (all three of you) may wonder why I would ask such a silly question. I have written here before promoting fiction for children, and how a well written children’s story can be beneficial to us all. Books rank as one of the best possible material gifts one can give in my opinion. Further, literacy is a keystone to success within North American culture. Thus, I too wonder a bit at my question. Yet, what if we considered things a bit more deeply? Maybe you should watch the video first.

Some questions you might have asked: Is the happiness of these children dependent upon stories from North America? Do these children not dream already? In many ways these stories are nonsensical – what kind of ideas do they put into children’s heads? Why should your favourite book from a shortlist of five be the one that gets sent to this school? Shouldn’t the culture, community, and teacher select the book?

Just asking.   The video is well put together.   I kind of like nonsensical ideas sometimes.   I am going to vote for a book.   You’ll have to decide if you are.   I like the song.   Do you have the answers to these questions?   My answers are just more questions.   Except, I like books.

You can find out more, and vote here: http://bookvote.asiafoundation.org/

Three Day Road & Extremely Loud

I have mentioned for some time that I would write more about two books I read a few months ago – now is that time. One function of this blog is sharing cool things, and sharing can sometimes come late. I hope you’ll accept it because these two reads do offer excellent perspectives on balance. If I had written previously I may have done rather lengthy reviews, so perhaps this is best, and I will try to jump to the point about a unique piece of writing, and another piece that is the best Canadian Fiction I have ever read.

Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close can give you heavy boots and make you feel like a hundred dollars. He weaves together multiple stories with the focal point being a completely unrealistic character in nine year old Oskar Schell. However, it works. When an author exposes extremes, the subtelties of our own inbalances are drawn to light. Be prepared for some differing methods of comprehension – akin to Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime and Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. I enjoy this writing, but it is difficult to pull off for a whole piece (as Eggers himself admits).

The Places in Between

Some people climb mountains, some kayak raging rivers, some perform medical feats, some jump out of airplanes, some raise children, some go into space, but I’ve only heard of one person walking across Afghanistan mere weeks after Western forces went into the country after the Taliban. Rory Stewart is an adventurer like no other I have heard of. Author of The Places in Between, which documents his journey, he seems far from arrogant or overly driven. He admits at the outset of the book that he is not good at explaining his reasons for the walk (of which Afghanistan was only a portion, having also walked across Iran, Pakistan, India and Nepal). Yet, as one reads, one gets the sense that like any true adventure, the true reasons are revealed as the adventure unfolds.

This story is outstanding. If you have ever done any adventuring on your own, for any length of time, I highly suggest you read this book. I could go on to write five more paragraphs about how incredible his journey was culturally, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually and socially. I could write another five paragraphs on how his journey is the first meaningful information I have heard, seen, or read regarding Afghanistan and its people. It completely displays everything else as close minded. However, at the end I still don’t think I could come close to doing his story justice, so you’ll have to read it.

To step out into the world and take your fate so much into your own hands you find that you must share the load with others, whoever they might be, as you come across them. As you take these risks it is your true self that you must put forward, and your true self you must live with.

Stewart is quite the amazing fellow, his walk aside. You may want to check out his biography here, or here.

Read this book.

Nostromo

If you happened to look at the Currently Reading, Listening, & Watching page recently you may have noticed that I have been trying to read three separate pieces together. With a little more time on my hands, I decided to tackle some diversity in literature all at once. Reading from different genres and different levels can be a simple, yet important step in keeping things balanced. I often don’t get the time to properly devote effort and reflection to reading. So, with time available I thought I could handle a few things at once. However, I was proven to be over zealous. Ostensibly, I became consumed by one of them as I pursued understanding, rather than just entertainment, and I had to let the other two languish. Conrad, again, this time with Nostromo, required all my reading attention up until a few days ago.

The last time I posted about literature I was extolling the virtues of finely written works intended for school age children. It now seems sensible to comment on a piece at the far opposite end of the scale. I am captured by DiCamillo’s works for children because of the metaphors, the beautiful language, and they make me smile while reflecting. My recent reading of Conrad’s writing does the same, only differently. His beautiful language also hurts my brain, the metaphors are layered so thickly I feel like I have to physically move them, and the smiles – occurring at greater intervals – are sinister in their reflections at times. In all honestly I could laugh at myself that I find both DiCamillo and Conrad, who write for completely different audiences, with completely different themes, and at completely different points in history, so similar in their captivation of my thoughts. After completing one of their stories I am excited about the next one. Admittedly with Conrad, this excitement is also fueled by the break I will be taking from reading his writing. I am hoping that my appreciation for both these authors and their genres is revealing a balanced approach to one of the healthiest hobbies a human can pursue: reading.

If you have not had the pleasure (or the torture) of reading Nostromo and have managed to live through some shorter pieces of Conrad’s than I would highly recommend you give it a try. The first quarter of the book is a struggle in finding the direction and theme of it all. One is aware that it is there, and is trying to convince oneself that Conrad knows what he is doing, not just rambling. Once the novel hits its stride, the early struggle is made more than worth it. After all, Conrad is asking, practically berating, the reader to be skeptical. Skepticism and unease are obvious, and hidden, all at the same time, throughout the South American country he has created. If the reader were not skeptical at points than a serious misunderstanding would be taking place.

The reader should also keep in mind, optimism is not necessarily the foundation for Conrad’s captivating writing. I have always enjoyed the tragedies, and Conrad does not disappoint in this vein. While DiCamillo portrays, love and hope as the keys to balancing life, Conrad makes quite plain that fear and greed are the great balancers of individuals and the collective. Conrad certainly recognizes the existence, and the struggle for love and hope. But his varied and thematic metaphors tie this to struggle to the fuels of greed and fear. Nearly everything appears to be a metaphor, or a reverse metaphor for that matter, in Conrad’s writing. Bearing in mind, this could be my over exertion to understand writing I do not engage with nearly enough. (Or chalk it up to lack of intelligence – your call).

Conrad has woven a masterpiece in creativity, in tragedy, and reveals that individual lives are the plainest and deepest metaphors for humanities struggles. The Capataz, Nostromo, is a man of the people – he is the people. Conrad’s imaginary Sulaco is filled with people, including Nostromo, that are only too true in their design.

Any other pieces of literature that hurt your brain, but that you would highly recommend?

Kate DiCamillo

Good fiction written for children is simply good fiction for all of us. While I have never read Harry Potter (collective gasp noted), perhaps the intensity surrounding all of Rowling’s books supports my initial point. The case I do have in hand are the works of Kate DiCamillo. If you’ve been paying any attention to the Currently… page you know I have read two of her books in the past few months. The first, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, was recommended by a friend. Once I started I could not put it down. With captivating writing she weaves a story that is puzzling, wonderful, tragic and hopeful. Through it all, Edward discovers what love is. While the book may be primarily intended for a grade 5 or so audience, the story and the writing speak easily to readers of all ages. Mainly, it explores the barriers and prejudgment we erect so that we might have happiness contrived (contentment), rather than genuine joy and love. It lays bare the plain truth that joy and love often involve risk, heart ache and loss. However, this story also reveals that the rewards one finds in pursuit of joy and love are infinite compared to the outlay, especially when one is in the correct state of mind. Hundreds of self-help books, and adult paper backs seek to capture the same thing, and do not even come close to the beauty, warmth, honesty and creativity of DiCamillo’s writing.

I thought so much of Miraculous Journey that it wasn’t long before I took up another of DiCamillo’s books: The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup, and a Spool of Thread. Firstly, fantastic title. Then, any book beginning with an impressive epigraph, as The Tale of Despereaux does, is worth diving into. Again, the main audience may be elementary school students, but the exploration of prejudgment, love, and commitment is right for any age. This story has a special twist in that DiCamillo carries on a running aside, or conversation, linearly to the story with the reader. These side conversations are aimed at children but her voice captured me right away. It almost feels like she wrote the story for me personally. She also throws in the theme of light and dark – exposing the struggle for some sort of balance between the two.

The best things about reading DiCamillo is the balance it brings. I try to read from different genres, fiction, and non-fiction – it can all begin to blur at times, and even become a bit arduous. But a well written children’s book is the perfect balance to help me see what great writing actually is, and to keep me loving reading. It allows me to go back to reading adult fiction, biographies, non-fiction, and professional texts refreshed. I highly recommend you find a book of hers this summer, search out a quiet spot and let your imagination run. Lacking that, there are hundreds of other great children’s books out there, I hear that Potter stuff isn’t so bad. Crack one open, and fall in love with reading again.

Any recommendations from you? Of course you have some, leave a comment below or send me an email.

Love is ridiculous.
But love is also wonderful. And powerful. – The Tale of Despereaux

Striking Entertainment

The five week student strike at CNUE will come to an end tomorrow. For more than a month now it has been a challenge to fill the time. A completely unbalanced schedule has meant a lot of time to explore, eat Korean food, read, and watch films. Through no conscious plan, two distinctive parts of my entertainment have been Canadian literature and Korean films. Fortunately, the works I have read and watched have been good, and I recommend them, particularly The King and the Clown.

I have been quite impressed with Korean cinema and will be sure to explore it more, during my remaining time in Korea, and when I return home. While certain instances in the past have put me off of Canadian literature, the recent offerings I have digested are beginning to turn the tide. Apparently it only takes a spell in Korea to renew interest for Canadian writing.

Also:
-Details of recent books and films are here.
-What’s not to like about candles on all celebratory cakes – not just birthday ones?
-Yes, it’s cold.