Books Books Books

Now that my work load has subsided somewhat, I thought I'd share with you what I have been doing down there at Ride the Ducks. Because the tourist season is severely over these days, I've mostly been reading. Here's my recent reading list:

White Teeth, by Zadie Smith

White Teeth is a story spanning generations of turmoil for two families. The families in question are those of Archie Jones and Samad Iqbal, two former soldiers, living out their twilight years in London from the seventies to the turn of the century. The stories in this book seem rambling, but if the tightness of Zadie's prose is any indication, there is a deeper subtext to the events depicted that suggests... What? I don't know. You'll have to read it find out I suppose. This is a novel about characters, and at the end of the book the greatest disappointment is only that you have can no longer live with these characters, the book is due back and you must hand them back over to the library. Not that I'm clamoring for a sequel, I only wish I could live my own life with the same delight in the strange world unfolding around me that this book inspires.

Inherent Vice, by Thomas Pynchon

Here's the premise: Doc is a private detective. He is also a reefer-loving hippie. Between his constant smoking of the herb and other reality altering substances he comes in contact with, it is very difficult to discern between evil plots and dope inspired paranoia. Other characters, from bikers to cops to undercover tenor sax players recovering from heroin addiction, are similarly unreliable, leading to a real mess of reality and super-reality that both enthralls and disorients the reader. It is hard to believe that this book, set in the late sixties, was published only months ago, but there are always little reminders, like characters predicting the future with alarming accuracy. Is Pynchon stuck in time, or unstuck? I don't know. Once again, read it if you want to find out.

Rant, by Chuck Palahniuk

This book is CRAZY. I guess you could call it science fiction, since it involves ports in the back of your neck and time travel, but these are all secondary details in a story that doesn't even try to make sense. The reality presented in this book is not fixed, but in flux, as the Doctor would say. Events are subject to change. Repeatedly. Am I giving up too much of the plot? Hell no. There's just to much going on to give away. Rather than discuss the plot, I guess I should just mention the brilliant style this book presents, that of an oral history. Every chapter is organized according to general subject, and anecdotes plus commentary are provided by a huge cast of characters who are each privy to a small portion of the bigger picture. Is there any better way to implement the old "unreliable narrator" device than by involving dozens of narrators, all presenting a different aspect of one story? I don't know. You know what you have to do to find out, though.

That's enough for now. I am currently halfway through "Everything is Illuminated", another fantastic, chimerical, and extremely funny/emotionally fraught tale. I am loving it. Fans of butchered English and characters that express truth through lies should check it out. Especially people who are familiar with, and interested in, the Ukraine. Ahem.

The Tortoise and The Hare

Hare's funeral was held on March 13th. Tortoise was glad that he got the invitation three weeks early. At the funeral there was a great hullabaloo going up from all the gathered members of the forest community. Tortoise felt slightly out of place, but he had once been great friends with Hare, so he tucked his legs up into his shell and took a seat towards the front. He had a great view of the casket.

Animals took turns going up to the front and howling their condolences into the microphone. Bear told a story about when Hare tricked him into getting stuck in a tree. Raccoon told a story about how he and Hare used to go fishing, and Mouse recounted the hilarious episode in which he hoodwinked missus Hare into believing he was one of her young. Hare had plenty of young. They stretched out from the funeral in all directions, sniffing vaguely in the direction of Hare's lifeless body. When it was Tortoise's turn to speak he stood up and dragged his shelly ass up to the platform. His hard torso knocked against the wood of the podium. He cleared his throat.

“Many of you” Tortoise began, “have heard tell of the story in which Hare and I had a little dispute, decided to settle it with a race.”

“What was that dispute about?” Called Possum, who was known for his lapses of memory.

“Doesn't matter. Race was a bad idea.” said Tortoise. “Hare was at the finish line before my tail even left the block. I thought that would be the end of that, but Hare was a good sport and offered me another shot. I refused it, because I had realized that Hare's life would be short and there are better things to do with your time than race.” Tortoise glared at the other animals. “So you can all thank me.” He turned to the casket. “As for you, Hare, I now whole heartedly accept your offer for a rematch. Ready? Go.” And Tortoise hopped on his bicycle and rode away.

-Seth Rasmussen