REVIEW: Nexus (The Rosy Crucifixion #3)

Nexus (The Rosy Crucifixon #3). Henry Miller. Grove Press (1987), Paperback, 316 pages.

"How does one know that one day he will take wing, that like the hummingbird he will quiver in mid-air and dazzle with iridescent sheen? One doesn't. One hopes and prays and bashes his head against the wall."

There is an element of the exotic and the animalistic in Miller, but at his core, he is a typical and rebellious American. He is equally at home comparing himself to a dog or to Jesus, and through these images, he traces his evolution from Wastrel to Want-Not Prophet, from his dingy childhood to idyllic Paris. On the surface, it is easy to see oneself in Miller's desperate attempts to sort out love, work, money, and art. ...and really, Miller is so likable in this last installment of The Rosy Crucifixion precisely because he is exactly like most other Americans: cursing our day jobs and fantasizing about the adventures we will have when we are fortunate enough to retire. I may be exaggerating a bit, but Miller manages--at least in part--to relish life and his role in it, regardless of both its glories and its flaws. He learns to let go, pick up, embrace everything, value nothing...this book almost reads like Miller's Enlightenment/Gnosis/Reincarnation/Resurrection...and that is the idea.

Nexus features less of the sex-capades of Sexus and the rambling characterizations of Plexus. Instead, Miller's writing falls into more of the agitated and artistic rambling that was only occasional during those downtrodden times. He refers to the sources of his inspiration more frequently, and somehow manages to both glorify and demonize them as he finds his own voice.

I took a lot of personal notes while I was reading Plexus, and I regret being less thorough as I read Nexus. There are so many references to other authors, painters, sculptors, musicians, and historical figures that taking notes would be a lengthy endeavor. As this was my first reading of Nexus, I'll leave that to future exploration, and I'll sum up the experience with one of Miller's last references:

***SPOILER ALERT!!!!***

Just before he leaves, he expresses an interest in finding an old record of Alexander Scriabin's Poème de l'extase. He claims that the first time he heard it, he became obsessed, and that something in him had changed. "It [the music] was like a bath of ice, cocaine and rainbows" (p. 307). Interestingly enough, there appears to be an order to Scriabin's work that closely mirrors Miller's Rosy Crucifixion: I. His soul in the orgy of love; II. The realization of a fantastical dream; III. The glory of his own art.[1] I'm not certain that the parallel is completely intentional, but given Miller's penchant for referencing other artists, I would hardly be surprised if it were. [1]Benson, Robert E.. "Scriabin's Poem of Ecstasy, Op. 54". ClassicalCDReview.com. Retrieved 2012-04-04.

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At last, I'll say this: Nexus is the culmination of several years of struggling to act and to become what Miller already was: a writer. I would recommend the trilogy for anyone who has ever struggled with a difficult career move or lifestyle choice. Miller's experiences ring true, and his advice is pure: be yourself and learn when to say, "Goodbye!" (Now, don't all run out on your families just because Paris beckons. Follow your own paths.)

Rating: 4/5

Woof! Woof!: Hello Again, Mr. Miller

I always seem to read Henry Miller when I come to a crossroads or defining moment in my life. Each book of The Rosy Crucifixion has taken me down a different path and provided for me a different kind of enlightenment. In between the rambling mess of character portraits and sexual encounters hides these brilliant moments of clarity. It's like getting punched in the face for fun. This last book sees Henry Miller struggling to reconcile his life with his art, and he has all but given up, at this point. I, too, waffle, waver, second-guess, and submit to the hand I've been dealt. At least, I have been following that particular path, recently. It leads somewhere between grand plans and grand failures, and it is easy to feel caught up in the muck. I'm back here, writing again, because something is tugging at the heartstrings and the tendons again. In Nexus, and in myself, there is a drastic push toward freedom, even when it feels unattainable.

Most recently, I was struck by the following quote: "By day the graveyard of senseless sweat and toil; by night the cemetery of love and despair." Miller is speaking, of course, about the worker "ants" that struggle with their hated jobs by day and only find comfort in the arms of another person, or in their own misery. Either way, he equates meaningless work with death. I hear you, loud and clear, Mr. Miller. Right down to the grandiose notion that, having been there himself, he is perhaps most qualified to speak directly to those "ants" and comfort them with his writing. I wouldn't exactly call it a comfort, but there is beauty in shared pain and struggling, even if the sharing is based solely on false perception and projection onto Miller's characters.

For better or worse, I had the urge to write again, both in my blogs and in paper journals. I am always seeking solutions and inspiration. ...and besides, I have a giant bookshelf that needs some love and attention.

REVIEW: Aesop's Fables; A New Translation by G.K. Chesterton [Kindle Edition]

Aesop's Fables; A New Translation. G.K. Chesterton. Public Domain Books (2004), Kindle Edition, Print length: 145 pages.

I wonder if modern man has always anthropomorphized animals. I suppose that ancient religious beliefs and practices could point to valid explanations, but how many animal stereotypes can we trace directly back to the influence of Aesop's fables? Aesop's works are important, because as Chesterton notes, they are simple truisms that require a certain degree of humility. People are reduced to "chessmen" and animals to their most basic qualities. In addition, the fact that these are likely collected works, and not simply the product of Aesop's mind, matters. Aesop, then, serves as a sort of orator, and yet he was supposedly thrown off of a cliff for...who knows...being "offensive?"

I wonder how often we bother to question our standard characterizations of the animals and the people found in Aesop's fables, and our often blind acceptance of the morals at the end of each one. Chesterton supposes in his introduction that ancient man thought themselves too mysterious to depict in the same manner as the cave paintings at, say, Lascaux. I think that some of the politics in the fables are obvious, and I wonder if this is where Aesop had a greater role in their creation. There are fables about the gods, the Oracle at Delphi, and slaves...fables that speak of class differences that easily could have gotten Aesop in trouble, if he were a Phrygian slave. There are lots of contradictory messages, too: tales of birds in cages who yearn to be free, and slaves who value protection over freedom. There are stories of cocks whose necks are wrung because they can only tell time, while a tame partridge is kept because it serves as a decoy to catch other birds...and then another tale in which a partridge is killed for its treachery when it offers to be a decoy in the interest of self-preservation. At face value, people take these morals to be self-evident truths, but the people in these stories are always the ones who contradict themselves. On the contrary, an Ass is always an ass.

Like Grimm's fairy tales, violence is a factor. The natural world has always had a bit of the gruesome to balance out the beauty. We accept this as normal, and it is, but it is also strange when we give voices to beasts and birds, and then use them to teach children right from wrong. Nothing is so cut and dry in a modern world, and yet these fables have survived despite the differences. I think that simplicity is the key. We tend to complicate matters, when all people really seem to crave are simple answers.

Rating: 4/5

To be quite honest, I'm being polite with this review. I gave this collection a 4/5 for historical importance, but I really wanted to give it a 3. The short form of the fables was easy to read, but it got to be rather dull, after a while. (In fact, it was enough to turn me off of ancient lit. for a while. I started reading an 1000-page, sprawling and modern novel this morning, just to shift to the other extreme. I NEED this, right now.)

Aesop's Fables and Pop Culture

So yeah...I'm a slacker. I could spend a few sentences describing how desperately I need a new computer, but I would rather just update the blog. The long and short of it is that I think too much.

I'm about halfway through the collection of Aesop's Fables I've been reading, and I can't believe how many of his little morality tales have survived into present times. They pop up everywhere that children are bound to look, especially in cartoons. I'm sure that most of us remember Bugs Bunny as the fool from The Tortoise and the Hare, or at least I hope so!

Then, there is this Disney-fied version of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." (The video below has a running time of 00:09:22, but it is well worth it. Quite honestly, I am really hoping that the Wolf in Peep's clothing is an intentional pun, and not just a happy coincidence.)

I can't help but wonder if any of Aesop's fables have found their way into modern cartoons. Think Spongebob. I would love to see examples. I also noticed that so many of the classic cartoons emphasize simplicity in the same way that Aesop does. Foxes are always foxy; sheep are always sheepish -- with the exception of the "black sheep;" wolves are always dastardly. (These truths/assumptions are extremely effective, paired with snippets of appropriate classical music. Cartoons from the 30s and 40s always managed to sample from ALL of the classics. True, it might be derivative of everything and indicative of nothing, but WWII politics often creep into those cartoons, too. I can appreciate all of it.) There is an element of slapstick in Aesop's works, which might be why Aesop himself is so often depicted as a comic character by playwrights.

If you know of any other examples of Aesop's fables in books, cartoons, video games, songs...whatever...post them in the comments!

A Very Bookish New Year!

As the first day of the New Year drifts away, I -- like everyone else who has first world problems and first world guilt -- feel the need to start fresh. I haven't been here in ages. In fact, this blog was created in a frenzy of possibility during a very long break from the real world. Reading can be like that, too: an escape-artist's favorite dream. Unfortunately, the "real world" is often no more real than the words on this page or any other; it is just more immediate and demanding.

This holiday season has been full of books! I received a Kindle from my mother, and six new books, so far. I can barely contain my enthusiasm for future reading, but I am also overwhelmed by choice and a self-imposed responsibility to enjoy these new gifts as much as I possibly can. I have a difficult time knowing where to begin. It has been this lack of direction/focus/whatever you want to call it...that has made keeping up with reading and blogging a difficult endeavor. I have distinct urges to complete every available reading challenge and book list that I can find, online. In other words, my eyes are bigger than my stomach...er...if my stomach ate books for breakfast.

Basically, I am starting from no place in particular, but I am on a mission. I call it: Operation Read Everything I Currently Own. (OREICO? Sure, why not.) I have lots of different interests, so I'm not exactly sure how this could appeal to anyone who might be reading this, but I don't much care. I love you, but I need to get started, and I need not be concerned by theme posts, list-whittling, or anything else that could distract me from the whole point of these things: Durrrr. READ.

I'm going to post to this blog on Wednesdays, at least until everything starts moving along at a decent clip...and then, we'll just have to see where it goes.

Cheers!

For the sake of argument:

So, I got into a great discussion with my brother, this afternoon. (It didn't hurt that I had pie and coffee to sweeten the deal.) It might also help to know that my brother--who once despised the idea of reading for pleasure--is now trying to go back to school to pursue a degree in creative writing. He reads more than I do, now.

Basically, our argument revolved around changing technology and the effects it may have on the ways we think and interact with media. There has been a lot of press attention about this topic, lately, so I thought that this would be a timely post.

Well, my brother has become pretty disgusted with social media and the distractions it offers. I asked him how he feels about the move toward e-books in favor of traditional print materials. Of course, he hates the idea. Newspapers have been struggling/failing for years to retain subscribers, because so much is readily available online, and at no or little cost to readers. Similarly, album sales have declined as downloadble content has gained immense popularity. It's easy to see booksellers heading down a similar path. Last Christmas, Amazon reported more e-book sales than sales of print-media.

My brother's complaints were many, but I can summarize them here:

1. Reading on a screen is not as effective or thoughtful as reading directly from print materials, because people are more likely to skim instead of reading and evaluating the material more thoroughly. In addition, the act of swiping or clicking a button to turn a page limits the attention that we give to reading.
   
2. The probability that e-books will eventually include links to outside media (audio files, photographs, video, etc.) fundamentally changes the reading experience. It makes us more distracted and less engaged in reading the text. (Without saying so, he also implied that adding these "extras" also subverts the author's original intentions for the work in question.) He likened the downfall of print media to the demise of the symphony, claiming that the majority of people don't/can't sit through a symphony, because they have become incapable of doing so. We are too accustomed to being bombarded by content, and therefore, can't sit still long enough to appreciate it fully.
   
3. We have become quite skilled at multitasking, but much less adept at focused, higher-order thinking. The majority of people who read e-books--especially those linked to to additional content--are less likely to think critically about what they are reading, because the format renders us incapable of doing so. We think that we will be able to rely on outside sources to give us correct information (a.k.a the "truth"), and most people won't bother to question that information. User-generated content is often to blame for low-quality information, but we have become more likely to look to it for answers. In the end, our personal, cultural, and intellectual values are corrupted.
   
4. The e-book format renders all books equal, because they all look the same: as files. Due to limited storage and the lack of physicality, the format lends itself to "disposable" culture. We care less about books and the authors that create them, because they have become too easy to throw away. ...and then we move on to the "next big thing."

I won't go into my responses yet, suffice to say that I have a habit of playing the Devil's Advocate. I think it is important for people to question their own beliefs and motivations, so I like to push those buttons. I always think back to what my (favorite) English teacher once told me, in high school: "I reserve the right to lie to you, if it gets you to learn." That's right, Mr. Miles. Preach.

Now, it's your turn. I want your reactions, opinions, questions, hate mail...all of it. What do you think?

REVIEW: Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. Mary Roach. (2004) W. W. Norton & Company (Pub). Paperback. 304 pages.

"The way I see it, being dead is not terribly far off from being on a cruise ship."

What you see is not all you get, with this title...which is probably a good thing, if you don't want to come off as "that creepy, weird girl/guy who laughs in the face of Death." After reading Stiff, perhaps you will find some comfort in knowing that someone else is laughing with you, and laughing twice as loudly. On the surface, Stiff is a detailed account of the possibilities that await our bodies after death. Roach covers topics as far-reaching as plastic surgery, decomposition, (after)life as a human crash-test dummy, and crucifixion experiments. The author's narratives frequently flip-flop between gruesome and often disturbing details, irreverent humor, and compassion for the departed.

What I find most interesting are the bizarre accounts of how humanity arrived at our present state of affairs, concerning death. There is some great, journalistic research, here. Early stories recounting the history of anatomy and surgical experimentation make me happy to have been born in these modern times, but they still put me off of doctors for a while. (Oh gods, NO! Not the puppies! ...he put his whole hand WHERE!? Without anesthesia?) Luckily, the horror is mitigated by Roach's frequent tangents and jabs at everyone's sanity, including her own.

The book also asks a lot of open-ended questions, either direct or implied. For example, do the benefits of experimentation on the dead outweigh the ethical concerns associated with the practice? Would we react differently if we were given access to all of the gory details? Ultimately, Roach states her opinions--very delicately, without being pushy--but allows readers to draw their own conclusions. (For the record, she saves any questions about Self and Soul for her follow-up title Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife.)

Rating: 4.5/5

My Stories:
To be fair, I've actually read this book before. One night, as a joke, I thought that I would be funny and horrible, and offer to read the first chapter to my boyfriend...as a bedtime story. A bedtime story that begins with severed heads in roasting pans.* We started to talk about differences between men and women concerning their centers of gravity, which turned into a genuine curiosity about cutting one another in half to weigh the pieces. Now that's love. As a gift to my boyfriend, I thought I would continue the joke and start reading to him again.

*Amusingly, one of our mutual friends used to host a website to store a bunch of oddities from high school and college. It was called "I Roast Heads."**
**...and holycrapitstillexists. Let's just say I warned you. I Roast Heads!***
***An appropriate quote from the iroastheads.com quote page:
"'yeah, funeral music always sucks.'...'well, they won't hear it!'"
-somebody and hassell