Paul is Undead

Title: Paul is Undead - The British ZomBie Invasion
Author: Alan Goldsher
Illustrator: Jeffrey Brown
Published: 2010 by Gallery Books
Genre: Investigative music journalism
Pages: 310


I'm not a big fan of the Beatles; I've seen the Yellow Submarine countless times as a kid, and I know all the big hits, but don't consider myself a fan. Still, a book about them as zombies, except for Ringo who's a Seventh Level Ninja Lord, with Mick Jagger as a zombie hunter, and many, many other celebraties as guest stars... how's one supposed not to read it?

John Lennon was turned into a zombie as a newborn, and grew up to be a man with a mission: to start a band and become the Toppermost of the Poppermost, whatever that means. He eventually meets a nice, talented musician called Paul McCartney, and turns him. George Harrison follows much the same way, and once they attract the attention of the Ninja Lord Ringo Starr, we're making alternative history.

Goldsher interviewed all the members of the band, plus others like Mr. Jagger, Brian Epstein, Roy Orbison, and many who worked with the band, and gathered their tales into the Beatles' history until their break-up in 1969. I'm fairly sure that if I knew more about the real Beatles' history, I might've gotten even more out of the book, but it was still hilarious and I found myself giggling several times in the bus on my way home. Comics artist Jeffrey Brown has illustrated the book very... oh gosh. Some of the pictures actually made me squeamish! Which was nice.


RINGO STARR: Maybe it was because I was the last one to join the group, or maybe it was because I wasn't a zombie, but I sometimes felt like the band's whipping boy. Think about it: If I'm not picking up their fallen testicles, I'm wrapping duct tape around their naked bodies. And how many songs do they let me sing per album? One, that's how many.
On the plus side, that was the last time I ever had to handle Lennon's and McCartney's boy parts.

Angels in America

Title: Angels in America
Author: Tony Kushner
Published: This edition in 2011 by NHB, originally from 1992 onwards.
Genre: Inner cover says A Gay Fantasia on National Themes
Pages: 293 (includes afterwords and abouts and such)


Ooh, this is post n:o 98 into this blog, apparently! Let's see if I can get it up to 100 before the new year.

Right! Angels in America! In text form, as a play script. I didn't see the miniseries until this year, but I loved it immediately. Santa was nice enough to bring me this, and I read it pretty much immediately. I also got the series on DVD. Thank you, Santa!

So, what's it about. Set mostly in 1986, AIDS is still pretty much a death sentence, and Prior, sick with the nasty thing, isn't happy about it. His boyfriend Louis is absolutely terrified. Among the main cast are also Joe and Harper, a Mormon married couple, plus Joe's mother Hannah. Harper is addicted to Valium, and Joe kinda fancies men. Hannah is not impressed. Belize, nurse and former drag queen, and Roy, an utter bastard. Oh, there are a lot of other character, including, of course, the Angel who comes through Prior's bedroom ceiling one night and informs him that he's the Prophet.

The play comes in two parts, Millennium Approaches, and Perestroika. This book includes a list of the actors and directors of the play's professional productions, along with staging notes and such. Being mostly dialogue, it was a quick -and a very enjoyable- read. Very humorous, too.

"
PRIOR: You misheard. I'm a Prophet.
JOE: What?
PRIOR: PROPHET PROPHET I PROPHESY I HAVE SIGHTS I SEE. What do you do?
JOE: I'm a clerk.
PRIOR: Oh big deal. A clerk. You what, you file things? Well you better be keeping a file on the hearts you break, that's all that counts in the end, you'll have bills to pay in the world to come, you and your friend, the Whore of Babylon.
(Pause)
Sorry wrong room.
"

A Storm of Swords

Title: A Storm of Swords (1: Steel and Snow & 2: Blood and Gold)
Author: George R. R. Martin
Published: This print in 2011 by Harper Voyager, orig. in 2000
Genre: Fantasy. Epic fantasy.
Pages: 569 + 554 + a whole lotta appendixes. Appendi?


Right! The third part of the epic Song of Ice and Snow, such a brick that it had to be divided into two bricks so that it won't fall apart under its own weight. I can imagine, though, that a hard-cover version of both in one would have made for some strong-armed readers. And concussions, if read in bed.

Anyhoo, I tried to take it slow with the first part, but by the time I got to the second (I tried to take a break in between, to make the series last longer before the inevitable wait of the 6th and 7th book) I was on such a roll that I finished it in about a week.

The bunch of kings from the second book gets shuffled around like a deck of cards, and epic weddings all around. And epic pie-eating, which... wasn't as dirty as it sounded when said out loud. Ma-haaaaan. Had I not been sitting in a bus I would've given that one a standing ovation. And there's scary things in the dark and dragons and I keep getting distracted and can't really figure out a way to come up with a way to sum up all the so many plots and characters.

But I've decided -and I mean it this time- that I'm gonna wait until next year to read the 4th book, since the 5th's coming out as a paperback around March. I'm going to buy them all as paperbacks. Stay tuned to see this plan fall flat on its face the day book 6 comes out!


"You know nothing, Jon Snow."


Oh, and now I get the looks I got when I commented to someone who'd read all the existing books on how I liked the fact that dead people stay DEAD in these books. I get the looks now.

Teleny

Nimi: Teleny
Alkuperäinen nimi: Teleny
Kirjoittaja: Oscar Wilde kavereineen
Julkaistu: 1992, Gummerus, alunperin 1893
Genre: ...romantiikka? He he...
Sivuluku: 230 + kääntäjä Erki Vainikkalan jälkisanat


Teleny tippui divarissa eurolla syliin. Kannessa on kaksi alastonta miestä toistensa kimpussa, ja OSCAR WILDE lukee mahdollisimman isolla. Kahteen kertaan. Yleinen mielipide kuitenkin on, että Wilde ei kirjoittanut tätä kirjaa ainakaan kokonaan itse. Siinä vaiheessa kun luin 1 guy 1 jar -tyylistä kohtausta -ÄLKÄÄ GOOGLETTAKO jos ei ole tuttu juttu- kahdella miehellä ja yhdellä pullolla, tuli mieleen että joo, ehkä tuossa väitteessä lienee perää... no pun intended.

Kirja on juuri sitä ihteään, kaikenlaisissa muodoissa sekä samojen että eri sukupuolien välillä, kahden ja kimpassa. Tarinaa kuljettaa päähenkilö Camillen (miespuolinen, nimestään huolimatta) kertomus rakkaussuhteestaan René Teleny -nimiseen pianistiin. Suomentajan jälkisanojen mukaan tapahtumat sijoittuivat alunperin Lontooseen, mutta siirrettiin viktoriaanisista säädyllisyyssyistä Pariisiin. Suomennos on muuten tehty sekä alkuperäisen että saksalaisen painoksen pohjalta, sillä niihin aikoihin kun suomennos tehtiin, ei ollut saatavilla täydellistä englanninkielistä laitosta. En tiedä onko sitä nytkään, mutta kun nimeltä mainitsemattomasta suuresta nettikirjakaupasta käy etsimässä, erilaisia painoksia riittää. Äänikirjoinakin. Jopa saksaksi! Colour me curious... mutta jos Oscar Wilden nimellä etsii kirjoja, ei Telenyä listalta löydä.

Ei ehkä kirjallisuuden historian tähtihetkiä, mutta hieno todiste siitä että kyllä sitä viktoriaanisena aikanakin osattiin.


"Sinussa on tapahtumassa jokin muutos, Teleny. Ehkä se johtuu siitä, että sinun luonteesi uskonnollinen tai henkinen elementti on juuri nyt päässyt voitolle aistillisesta, mutta sinä et ole entisesi."
"Minusta tuntuu, että olen ollut liian onnellinen - että onnemme on rakennettu hiekalle. Sellainen liitto kuin meidän..."
"Jota kirkko ei siunaa ja joka loukkaa useimpien ihmisten nirsoja tunteita?"
"Niin no - sellaisessa rakkaudessa on aina
A little pitted speck in garnered fruit
That, rotting inward, slowly moulders all. ..."

Pedestrian Wolves

Title: Pedestrian Wolves
Author: James L. Grant
Published: 2004 by Prime Books
Genre: ...travel guide.
Pages: 231


Okay, it's actually a week or two already since I finished this, for the second time, but let's try to remember what I wanted to write... this was the second time I've read Pedestrian Wolves, first time being in 2007 when going to, attending and coming from a music festival halfway across Finland, and a book about Halloween weekend partying in New Orleans was pretty appropriate reading material then.

It's about this guy, David Livingstone, a hedonistic Predator -living life for its pleasures, and taking them where and whenever he can- who gets let loose in New Orleans for a long weekend of partying, walking, drinking and having sex. What he wasn't expecting was that the city would suddenly start talking to him. Like, really talking to him.

David's character is well rounded up, and I enjoyed reading about his adventures again, even though there were a few things that annoyed me; the one I can remember at the top of my head being describing a sexy woman, who could 'lose a few pounds' to be even sexier. But other than that, Pedestrian Wolves is a pretty darn good book, and the way David comes to feel about New Orleans is pretty much how I feel about London, even though never in my travels there have I heard the city actually talking to me like that. Except maybe to mention that it's time for tea or Guinness. But hey, when isn't it?


Yes, I thought. I would like that. But I would also like to burn tonight. I would like to prey. Do you understand what I mean? I would have you open yourself to me, New Orleans, and show me how hot a pedestrian wolf can run through your beautiful streets. I am convinced that what I am experiencing is completely real and I now know that you are not a hallucination or a sign of mental defect in myself. However, if this is all true, I ask you to fill me with your wine, give me your women, play me your song, and let a Predator run easy through the dark places you have made. Give me excess beyond compare and the fruit of life ripe on the vine. Give me Jade and give me a night of everything that I could ever imagine.
One heartbeat passed.
Traveler, do you know what you ask? The tone of the city was mildly surprised, and also held a hint of warning.
No, I thought. I do not. But I ask it again: Give me everything you can.

Tell-All

Title: Tell-All
Author: Chuck Palahniuk
Published: 2010, this paperback edition by Vintage in 2011
Genre: It’s a Palahniuk. How do you categorise that?
Pages: 179

I’ve been wanting to buy this puppy ever since I saw the hard-cover version in the stores last year, but since I’m a poor dirty worker doing poor dirty work with many books to read, I waited for the paperback. Also because all my other Palahniuks are paperbacks, and also because I prefer paperbacks. This obviously means that I have to wait ages again to read Damned, the latest offering from dear old Chuck.

Katherine Kenton is an ageing movie legend, whose star is on the way down. For years her life has been managed by Hazie Coogan, our narrator. For decades Hazie has taken care of her Miss Kathie, her career, her men, her movies and her roles. Pretty much everything.

Then along comes Webster Carlton Westward III, who steals Miss Kathie’s heart. That might not be such a disaster on itself, for the heart in question has been claimed by numerous husbands and dogs over the years, but when the ladies discover that this young, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed lover has already written out a tell-all memoir of his love affair with Miss Kathie, ending with her very detailed death, uh-oh.

We can’t have that.

I’ve enjoyed some other Palahniuks more than this one, but still had a hard time putting Tell-All down, with its wonderfully twisted Hollywood characters. And also, knowing Palahniuk, I knew that everything would not be as it seems. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I wasn’t expecting the twist, like, Okay, yawn, let’s get it over with, twist me; I was waiting for it like, What the hell has he cooked up this time?

Katherine Kenton continues reading as a voice-over. At first we continue to hear the sounds of the park, the clip-clopping of horse-drawn carriages and the calliope music of the carousel, but these sounds gradually fade. At the same time we dissolve to show Miss Kathie and Webster Carlton Westward III lounging in her bed. In voice-over we still hear Miss Kathie’s voice reading, an audio bridge from the preceding scene: “’…On the final day of Katherine Kenton’s life, she dressed with particular care.’”

A Single Man

Title: A Single Man
Author: Christopher Isherwood
Published: 1964 originally, this Vintage edition in 2010. Oh, and I do love the cover art.
Genre: Drama
Pages: 152

If you, hypothetical reader –I don’t know if you really exist, or if I’m writing this just for my own amusement- have read other posts in this blog, perhaps more than just one, you’ve most likely gathered that I have a soft spot –a friend calls it a fetish- for gay men. You can call me a girlfag, I know I do. I’m also a big fan of Doctor Who. So when my girlfriend informed me of a movie (Christopher and his kind) where the current Who Matt Smith plays the author of this book –and many others- Christopher Isherwood, I was all over that. And while I was reading this book, I kept hearing Smith’s voice in my head. Good times!

Not that you needed –or possibly wanted- to read all that, but it’s how I stumbled upon this book.

It’s a pretty usual morning in the 1960’s California, and George Falconer, an English professor, wakes up as usual. Except that’s George’s lover Jim is dead. He’s been dead for some months now, and George is somewhat coping. Moving on. Getting on with his life, day to day to day.

A Single Man follows a single day in George’s life; how, despite his sorrow, he’s determined to keep on living, and how, despite the fact that Jim is dead, there are still good things and funny things in the world. The book is written beautifully, with sadness but also with hope and great sense of humour. Some bits had me laughing almost out loud. Only almost, since I was sitting in a bus.

There’s also a movie made of this book, and I watched it as soon as I could after finishing the book, to decide whether I’d understood the ending correctly, but the movie is very different from the book. Very. The scenery and the time of the world have been caught beautifully, but the spirit of the book has been turned into something else. It makes for a good movie, and towards the end it returns to the book’s idea, but I muchly prefer the book over the movie.

Waking up begins with saying am and now. That which has awoken then lies for a while staring up at the ceiling and down into itself until it has recognised I, and therefore deduced I am, I am now. Here comes next, and is at least negatively reassuring; because here, this morning, is where it had expected to find itself; what’s called at home.

A Sticky End

Title: A Sticky End
Author: James Lear
Published: 2010 by Cleis Press
Genre: Murder, mystery, and so, so much mansex.
Pages: 290

The last of the three Mitch Mitchell Mysteries! Oh noes! I’d been saving this (and am still saving two other unread Lears) for a rainy day, which, apparently, came this summer. Not literally, though, but after going through the last couple of books presented on this blog, I decided I needed something a little… lighter. In many ways.

The first book (the one which took this blog's virginity, even! Yay!) was called The Back Passage. The second, The Secret Tunnel. And this, A Sticky End. *giggle* The first one was awesome. The second didn’t hit me as hard, but the last one left a very good taste in my mouth. Not literally, again.

Our horny hero Mitch arrives to London to meet up and get his meat up with his old chum Harry ‘Boy’ Morgan, but finds his friend heartbroken over another lover, who just went and killed himself in Morgan’s bathroom. Last night. Blood all over the place. So Mitch tries, not very hard, to keep his cock under control at least until he can get the whole story out of Morgan. He almost succeeds.

Cocks are all over the place as Mitch does his best to keep his jealousy down and Morgan out of prison as the rozzers start thinking that he killed his lover. Lear pretty much outdoes himself with the amount of cock, especially in this one big orgy scene. But darn, Mitch and his cock do get results.

I’m giving this one a standing ovation. Brilliant ending for a terribly funny and sexy series. Don’t ever stop, Mr. Lear.

My head felt full of clouds. I couldn’t think straight. No-if Morgan is a liar, then nothing in the world makes sense anymore. I can’t let sexual jealousy turn me into a cynic. Okay, so he’s been fucking Bartlett-I’d have done the same thing. An older man, experienced, wealthy, who takes an interest in you, befriends your family, helps you out financially, and has a big dick that he wants to stick up your ass? Who am I to say Morgan shouldn’t have done it? I’d have done it. Hell, I’d have seduced Bartlett even if he hadn’t been interested. Morgan was flesh and blood, as I knew only too well.

A Clash of Kings

Title: A Clash of Kings
Author: George R. R. Martin
Published: 1998, this edition (Voyager) in 2003. Or so it says.
Genre: Still killing those fantasy peeps left, right and center.
Pages: 708 in eye-killing tiny font

(I'm copying all this text from a Word file I wrote a while back, as well as the other recent entries, so the editing is a bit whack. Sorry. Most likely I'm the only one bothered.)

And as soon as I was done with A Game of Thrones, I started on this puppy. Not to spoil much, suddenly there are kings popping up all over the place, and woah but blood is spilled in all their names. Reading this consumed so much of my free time that I had to promise my SO that I wouldn’t start the next one in a while yet. I bought it, but it’s sitting nice and quiet in the book shelf. I ‘accidentally’ spoiled myself through the internet on what’s going to happen at some point during it, so its siren song is getting louder and louder. (EDIT: I wrote this a week or two ago. Started the 3rd last night.)

Tyrion is pretty much my favourite character. Very muchly for the Joffrey-slapping, but not just because. But very much.

Also, no quote since… I’ve taken the habit of finding an essential bit to quote while I read, so that I don’t just choose one at random while writing these things. But apparently I didn’t do so with this, and there is 708 pages to choose from. So, no. Onwards!

A Game of Thrones

Title: A Game of Thrones
Author: George R. R. Martin
Published: 1996, this edition (Voyager) in 2003. Or so it says.
Genre: High backstabbing fantasy, motherduckers.
Pages: 807

…it was a pound off the price at Forbidden Planet in London, and I’d just seen the TV show. Of bloody course I bought it.

One more party I’m kinda late arriving at, but since the fifth book (of seven?) just came out, I’ve plenty of time to catch up. I’ve been more or less avoiding fantasy-fantasy for about a decade, but this book/series is giving me faith in the genre again. This is the kinda shit I wish I’d be able to write. Backstabbings, utter bastard characters, those who seem like utter bastards but aren’t, and anyone can die. And stay dead.

So, as many must know by now, this is the first part of the Song of Ice and Fire –series. It follows a bunch of people in a medieval-type fantasy world, where dragons are dead, courts are corrupt, dwarves are schemy, young boys dream of glory, scary things move in the night, and so forth. A not-so special setting, compared to many fantasy books, but I really like how Martin is handling this epic, and the direction where it’s going. Even when it suddenly makes a complete 180 in direction.

“In the game of thrones, you win or you die.”

Unohdetut Jumalat

Nimi: Unohdetut Jumalat
Alkuperäinen nimi: American Gods
Kirjoittaja: Neil Gaiman
Julkaistu: 2001, tämä versio Otavalta 2001
Genre: Gaiman.
Sivuluku: 589

Luettu noin juhannuksena, jolloin olin vanhemmilla kylässä, ei ollut mitään tekemistä, enkä löytänyt yhtään mitään muuta lukemista.

Juttelin Gaimanista paremman puoliskon kanssa joskus tämän luettuani, ja todettiin, että molemmilla on isompi tai pienempi kynnys alkaa lukemaan Gaimanin kirjoja. (Tämä tuli itse asiassa viikko sitten todettua useammankin ihmisen voimin.) Case in point: tämä kyseinen opus on seissyt kirjahyllyssäni jouluaatosta 2002. Kuitenkin olemme molemmat faneja: hänellä on noin kaikki Gaimanin kirjat, minulla useita, ja molemmilla melkein koko Sandman-sarja kerättynä.

Kun pääsee vauhtiin, Gaimania on hauska ja koukuttava lukea, mutta se aloittaminen... tyypillä on tietynlainen kirjoitustapa, josta kyllä pidän, ja miehestä itsestäänkin, mutta liekö se kielellinen kikkailu vai tietynlaiset juonikuviot joita Gaimanilta odottaa/tietää löytävänsä. En tiedä.

Mutta itse kirjasta! Unohdettujen Jumalien keskiössä on juuri vankilasta päässyt Shadow, joka on pikkasenkin tuuliajolla johtuen siitä, että hänen vaimonsa on juuri kuollut. Mukaan tulee herra Wednesday, joka tekee Shadowlle sen tyypillisen tarjouksen, josta ei voi kieltäytyä.

Matkataan ympäri Amerikan mannerta sekä uusien nykyajan jumalten että ajan kuluessa uuteen maailmaan matkustavien mukanaan tuomien jumalien seurassa. Ja kuten yllä yritin jotenkin saada selvitettyä, niin kunhan kirja pääsi vauhtiin, nautin siitä kovastikin. Varsinkin vanhojen jumalien tarinanpätkistä, kuinka he päätyivät Amerikkaan.

”Kuule”, Shadow sanoi. ”En halua vaikuttaa siltä, kuin – Jessus, kuule...” Hän piti tauon ja kokosi voimiaan. Häntä paleli, hän seisoi metsässä ja jutteli ison, mustan linnun kanssa, joka popsi parhaillaan poskeensa Bambia. ”Okei, haluan vain sanoa, että en halua kuulla arvoituksia.”

”Arvoituksia”, lintu myönsi avuliaasti.

Summer break. Is over.

Wow, my unplanned summer break from updating kind of... stretched. I didn't stop reading, though. Oh no!

Updates shall resume... soonish. With the six books (three bricks and three shorter ones) I've read since Midsummer.

Don't hold your breath, though.


k~*

Garpin maailma

Nimi: Garpin maailma
Alkuperäinen nimi: The World According to Garp
Kirjoittaja: John Irving
Julkaistu: 1980, Keltainen Kirjasto (alunperin 1976)
Genre: Fiktiivinen draama
Sivuluku: 560


Huu. 'Aikuisten kirjallisuutta'.

Garpin maailma on ollut yksi lempileffojani kakarasta asti. Ja sillä siis tarkoitan että elokuva on tullut nähtyä monen monta kertaa. Kirjan ostin 2003 Joensuun kirjaston poistomyynnistä, ja nyt sitten JO sain luettua... köh. Kirjasta on tietenkin jätetty joitain osia pois elokuvaversiossa, mutta ei mielestäni mitään oleellista, kerrankin.

T. S. Garp syntyi vuonna 1943, ja kirja seuraa hänen elämäänsä siihen asti mihin ihmisen elämä nyt yleensä loppuu. Hänen äitinsä oli Jenny Fields, sairaanhoitaja joka halusi lapsen muttei miestä. Omalaatuiset äiti ja poika päätyvät aika pitkälti itsepäisyyttään kirjailijoiksi, enemmän tai vähemmän menestyneiksi sellaisiksi.

Hmm. Kuten sanoin, leffa on nähty monesti, ja kirjakin nyt luettu, ja silti on jotenkin vaikea yrittää saada jotain kirjoitetuksi. Luultavasti koska sain viimeisen sivun luettua alle 10 minuuttia sitten; mieli on yhä muualla ja silmät itkeneet. Olen kirjavollottaja. Pidin kirjasta yhtä paljon kuin elokuvasta, luin suurimman osan siitä kahdella istumalla. Tai sohvalla lojumalla, jos ihan tarkkoja ollaan. Vaikka rakastan esim. Martin Millarin lyhyitä teoksia joissa nähdään vain hyvinkin lyhyt kohtaus hahmojen elämästä, tällaiset elämiä kestävät tiiliskivetkin uppoavat. Niin, ja bonusta tietenkin oli että kirjassa kerrotaan myös mitä kaikille muille hahmoille tapahtuu, se jätettiin elokuvasta pois.

Saattoi tulla hiukan sekavaa tekstiä mutta hei, pistetään krapulan syyksi. Tai siis sen, että tuli nautittua hyvässä seurassa muutamakin eilen illalla, krapula taisi eksyä naapurille.


Hän yritti kirjoittaa tarinan perheestä, mutta alkaessaan hän ei tiennyt siitä muuta kuin sen, että se eli kiintoisaa elämää ja että sen jäsenet olivat läheisiä toisilleen. Eikä se riittänyt.

Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving

Title: Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving
Author: Martin Millar
Published: 1994 by Fourth Estate
Genre: Humorous fiction
Pages: 200


I really do love Millar's books. They're these short-ish treats that just suck you in and generally leave you feeling happy and stuff. Like this one. It's about a young, quite antisocial woman called Elfish, who's into bad sex and brilliant stage diving, plus cheating and lying to further her own plans.

And her big dream is to gain the name Queen Mab for her band (which she doesn't have, but that doesn't stop her) from her ex Mo, before he and his band can perform and claim the name for themselves. To achieve this, she must be able to perform a Shakespeare poem from Romeo and Juliet, regarding Queen Mab, before Mo's band's gig. So she lies her head off through a group of people who have more or less lost their own dreams to gain their help in this endeavor.

It's about hope, and how just a little of it can take you a long way. But not in a sappy way. "Martin Millar is a quite superb, pomp-free writer." says one commenter on the back cover. Well put.


Outside the sun shone and Elfish squinted in disapproval. She hated it when the sun shone brightly. It hurt her eyes, even when they were covered by her hair.
"Hello, Elfish," came one cheerful voice, followed by another.
Cary and Lilac were standing outside, holding hands.
Elfish came to a halt, glowering. She could not be sure but she had the distinct impression that the young lovers were gently squeezing each other's hands in a secret message of devotion.
This was too much for Elfish. She glared evilly at them, stormed back into her house, grabbed the television from the living room and marched upstairs.
She brought out her bottle of whisky and, without removing her leggings, boots or jacket, switched off the light and got into bed. ...

The Left Hand of God

Title: The Left Hand of God
Author: Paul Hoffman
Published: 2010 by Penguin
Genre: Sci-fi-ish fantasy. Thing.
Pages: 498


This book made me go "Umm. What?" more times than any in... quite a long time! The writing is... oddly paced, and I couldn't quite get a grip of it. Or the characters. But granted, there was a reason why the characters were hard to read or identify with, and Hoffman eventually seemed to know where all this is going. Still. What?

What's it about then. The Left Hand of God starts at this place called Sanctuary, which turns out to be some kind of a religious military training camp for boys from hell. The world is obviously ours, but maybe in a far, distant and distorted future?


"So it's my fault? Well, if it is, I'm going to put it right. That boy is a menace. He's a jinx like that fellow in the belly of the whale."
"Jesus of Nazareth?"
"Yes, him."


Thomas Cale is one of the much-beaten boys kept more or less prisoner there, but there's one powerful man in Sanctuary who seems to have special interest in him. So then, when Cale escapes, things get interesting. Except that it still didn't convince me that I should read the rest of it, as well. You see, several times I thought I'd just do the nigh unthinkable and STOP READING.

There was, however, one big reason why I did keep reading, and will probably read the sequel as well: I never knew what the hell would happen next. I'd guess, deduce and reason, but get it wrong.


As Redeemer Stape Roy emerged from the building the air of Kitty Town hit him like a blow to the face. The noise! The people! He felt like a blind man whose first sight was of the rainbows of hell, a deaf man whose hearing is restored to the sound of the end of the world. There were bawlers with their loozles, mawleys with their ya-yas hanging out for all to see; there were benjamins in jemimas calling out 'Yellow, come and get get.' There were burtons and their naked pikers, middlemen calling for agony, Aunts with their bung nippers covered in rouge and shouting for a half and half. There were Huguenots selling bum-baileys to the highest bidder and nutty lads with long tongues looking for a pigeon in a packet of two.


...like I said. What?

Bookshelves again!

Sequel to February's look at my bookshelves, here's finally what my current one looks like...



Side one! I've got the books organised a little by genre, a little by size, a lot by author, and... that's it. Please ignore the torn wallpaper in the background, we're in the process of tearing it all off and painting all the walls.

There's random comics, my whole Ralf König -collection, most of my gay and lesbian books, all of my Millars and Palahniuks. On second row, a whole bunch of comics. Third, DVD's! And hard cover books. And some art books. Most of bottom row is open for cats to move through. Oh, and action figures.



Side two! There's more DVD's and some biographies, and then a bunch of paperbacks. Third row, maybe a third of my manga collection, and all of Six Feet Under in a sweet box. On the very left side, you can see my SO's bookshelves. And we gotta empty them all somewhere and move the shelves for the painting project. That'll be fun.

Then it's reshelving. Now that WILL be FUN! That will be my favourite part.

Lux the Poet (third time!)

Not Baby's First Book, but ah, so entertaining. Read most of it yesterday, too tired to do anything else. Like move. Or draw. Or write. Heck, I'm half falling asleep now as I write this. If I can just survive this week in one piece and insane, work should ease up again.

I meant to write sane.

This is a most excellent book. Martin Millar is a brilliant author. And I will keep repeating this until all you hypothetical readers of this blog believe me and read some of this shit. Ok? Ok.

Short recap: Lux, poet extraordinaire, head and body full of cocaine, wanders around a riot in Brixton, searching for the love of his life, Pearl, who is lost in the riot. Helping him on this most epic quest is Kalia, exiled from Heaven until she can perform 1,000,000 good deeds on Earth. Here, they have a conversation while once again looking for Pearl:


Optimist floods into him. "Did you notice how keen she was to hold my hand? Just about mangled my fingers. And we arranged a day in the country. In fact this has not been a bad night, I got to hold hands with Pearl and I got stuffed full of cocaine."
"You got thrown out of your home."
"I'll find another one."
"You got hit with a brick and mugged."
"It happens."
Lux sniffs, nose still congested.
"Why do you take drugs?"
"Why not?"
"Well that's as good a logical answer as I've heard in three thousand years."

The Night Watch

Title: The Night Watch
Author: Sarah Waters
Published: 2006 by Virago
Genre: Historical drama
Pages: 503


Agh! This took me so long! Work has been very hectic for... at least all of this month, and the few times I've had time/chance/concentration enough to read during lunch have been few and far between. But anyway, The Night Watch is now properly re-read!

Actual conversation, though translated to English:

Co-worker: So Kati, what are you reading this time?
Me: Oh? This is, uh, about a few Londoners. In London, during the second World War. Except that the book starts at the end, like, 1947, and tells how the story ends, and then goes back a few times, a few years at a time, to show how the people ended up in the situations they were when the book started. Or ended. It's a cool book!
Co-worker: ...why can't you read a joke-book for a change?
Me: ...

So, in bit more detail, the book indeed follows a few people: Kay, a seemingly lost soul dressed in manly clothes; Helen, a woman jealous over her famous, beautiful lover; Viv, a glamour girl with her married lover; and Duncan, a young man imprisoned over the opinions of others. That's where we set out, and in the end, we do find out what exactly happened to them. And whether they had a happy ending/beginning.

I first read The Night Watch back when I was living in the UK, in 2008, and I liked it very much! I still do, mind, but I guess work and knowing what's going to happen, although I'd forgotten most details, made for slower reading. But like Waters' other books, it's such a thrilling ride. Damn, she's good.

I know it says I'm reading Laughter of Carthage up there, but honestly, I barely got through the intro before work hit. Now, with a nasty flu bugging me as well, I'm lucky if my brain can handle Baby's First Book.


Viv kept her head down; but looked back once. Kay had joined the line of people outside the cinema: she was holding a lighter to her cigarette, and the flame of it, springing up, through the twilight, lit her fingers and face. Hush, Vivien, Viv remembered her saying. The memory was stark, after all this time -stark and terrible- the grip of her hand, the closeness of her mouth. Vivien, hush.

Trainspotting

Nimi: Trainspotting
Alkuperäinen nimi: Trainspotting
Kirjoittaja: Irvine Welsh
Julkaistu: 1996 suomeksi, alunperin 1993 (ja tämä painos 2000!)
Genre: Anarchy in the UK!
Sivuluku: 384


Joo on noita muita kirjoja kesken, mutta. Kävin viikonloppuna vanhemmilla, ja iski hillitön halu lukea Trainspotting taas kerran. Tänne en ollut sitä tuonut, koska paremmalta puoliskolta se jo hyllystä löytyy. Molemmilta kuitenkin suomeksi, höh. Pitäisi vihdoinkin etsiä omaksi alkukielellä.

"Kukaan ei ole koskaan kirjoittanut yhtä hyvää kirjaa ... tätä on syytä myydä enemmän kuin Raamattua." sanoo mainosteksti kannessa, ja on niin pirun oikeassa.

Jos joku ei tähän mennessä ole vielä törmännyt Trainspottingiin (järkytyksekseni minulle selvisi, että esim. pikkuveljeni. Verisukulainen! ei ole ikinä lukenut tätä, tai nähnyt elokuvaa.), se on kokoelma Welshin lyhyitä tarinoita, jotka sijoittuvat Skotlantiin, Leithin kaupungin narkkarit päähenkilöinään. Monet kirjan pätkiksistä pääsivät elokuvaversioon, tosin paikoitellen hahmoja vaihdellen.

Pätkisten pituudet vaihtelevat alle sivusta noin kolmeenkymmeneen (Pahaa verta taitaa olla pisin, about 27 sivua. Ja yksi ehdottomista suosikeistani.), ja Welshin kerrontaan sekä enemmän tai vähemmän paskamaisiin hahmoihin jää koukkuun. Tekee ihan oikeasti taas mieli vähintään kuunnella jatko-osa, Porno, heti tähän perään, vaikka tekemistä ja lukemista ja kuuntelemista on tällä hetkellä vaikka muille jakaa. Toisaalta... work hard, play harder.


Mä otan juomat, ensiksi tyttöjen paukut ja sitten poikien kaljat.

Sitten se tapahtuu.

Mä en muuta tehnyt kuin laitoin tuopin Exportia Begbien eteen. Se vittu heittää sen huiviinsa yhdellä pitkällä kulauksella ja heittää sitten tyhjän tuopin parvelta, sillai huolettomasti. Se on tehty paksusta lasista, siinä on kahva, mä nään silmäkulmastani miten se sinkoaa ilmassa. Mä katson kuinka Begbie hymyilee. Hazel ja June on hämmentyneitä, niiden kasvoista heijastuu mun oma puuduttava kauhuni.

A look at bookshelves.

Right!

When I started this blog, this first picture shows where most of my books were hanging out at. A three-shelver in the spare bedroom at my parent's place, which is where it still stands.



But after that photo was taken, I've moved twice, and now have a nice, large black bookshelf with lots of space for new books and comics.

It's been about five months since I got that one, and every time I've gone to see the parents, I've dragged back a big backpack full of books. My back is so not grateful for this. But the 'fun' thing is... take a look at picture #2 here:



Can you see the huuuuuuge hole I've made in five months of dragging books hundreds of miles across snowy Finland? Can you? CAN YOU? I SURE CAN'T!

*sob*

Ok, the two high piles on the left have been reduced to one tiny pile, but part of the original piles are now on top of the shelf. And there's no more piles on top of the books on the shelves, either. Just a couple of random books. But there's still two rows of paperbacks on the middle shelf.

Hopeless.

I just attempted taking photos of the new, black shelf, but it's already too dark for photo-taking, and my camera decided that it really means it this time when it says it's out of batteries. So no using the lightning, either. Next time. But it's like this:


...so there's room for books and stuff on BOTH sides. It's maybe 2/5 full now. Lots of room left.

Byzantium Endures

Title: Byzantium Endures
Author: Michael Moorcock
Published: 1994 by Phoenix Paperbacks, originally in 1981 (?)
Genre: Historical fiction
Pages: 404


Hoo boy, and that was just the first of four! I bought this book for £ 2,50 from a used book store in Notting Hill, London, back in 2003. And it took me this long to finally read it. Now, I have the rest of the series as well (The Laughter of Carthage, Jerusalem Commands and The Vengeance of Rome (well ok, the last one is still in the mail, I should have it next week!)), which all together tell the story of Maxim Arturovitch Pyatnitski. A man so full of himself -and cocaine- I'm expecting him to explode by book 3.

Seriously, though. For the first 40, 50 pages I was thinking that if something doesn't happen soon in this book, it's going back on the shelf. But then, around page 60, I was properly sucked in. So properly, into the mind of a narcissistic, charming genius that again, I ended up reading his story and more or less mad rantings long into the night. It was like... a holiday. In someone else. Not a nice someone, but someone I found myself at times sympathizing with or even pitying. Or just disgusted by him.

Pyat was born on the 1st January 1900 in Kiev, Ukraine, a fatherless child, apparent genius. I say apparent, since I'm not convinced he actually is one, rather than a very convincing and lucky bastard. Relatives, looking to mould him for their own uses, pay for his education. Byzantium Endures takes the reader from Kiev to Odessa's warmth, to St. Petersburg just before the October Revolution, and all around Ukraine during the Civil War. History is seen though his eyes, and thankfully, at least for me, he doesn't give a rat's patootie about politics. As a guest star we get to meet a young Mrs. Cornelius in this adventure of the first twenty years of Pyat's life.

And there indeed is three more bricks of his story. Ooh. But I think I need a holiday from this holiday with some lighter reading before I crack open the next volume.


"I think we have heard all we need, Kryscheff!*"

"I have hardly begun." I said calmly. "There is much more."


*Kryscheff is the name Pyat had to use while a student in St. Petersburg.

Meme time!

01. Do you snack while you read? If so, favorite reading snack?

Chocolate all the way. For a snack. But at work, I read while eating my lunch. My lunch, however, consists of yogurt and a müsli bar.

02. Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you?

If I do mark anything, it’s only with pencil. Last time was when I was reading the biography of Rufus Wainwright last year. I can’t remember what it was, though. Before that, it must have been at school. So no, I don’t tend to do that.

03. How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book flat open?

Bookmarks mostly. Dog-ears is acceptable only in an emergency. And there’s usually no such hurry anywhere that there’s no chance to find a scrap of paper.

For the last two years I had these calendar-bookmarks, one for each month, and I’d write in the back what books I’d read that month. But I couldn’t find one this year, so it’s back to little pictures and such.

04. Fiction, Non-fiction, or both?

Both, but I prefer fiction.

05. Hardcopy or audiobooks?

Yes. I love the feeling of having a book in my hands, and going at it at my own pace, with the option to stop and think of what I’ve read whenever I want. But it’s also really nice to listen to a book while drawing, walking or sitting in a bus. My current project is to listen through all the Harry Potter audiobooks, read by Stephen Fry, before the last movie comes out. Just finished Prisoner of Azkaban, so, looking good!

06. Are you a person who tends to read to the end of chapters, or are you able to put a book down at any point?

I prefer to read until the end of a chapter, or at least to a break after a paragraph. Like with drawing and especially writing, I don’t much appreciate being interrupted while reading.

07. If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop to look it up right away? Write it down to look it up later? Just try to infer what it means from the rest of the sentence, and keep going?

Mostly I just try to figure out what it might mean in the context, and then look it up later. If I remember to. Usually I don’t remember.

08. What are you currently reading?

Ohh… Tokyo Babylon by CLAMP, Byzantium Endures by Michael Moorcock, and some Harry Potter audio books.

09. What is the last book you bought?

I just bought four used books last Monday, let’s see… Tokio ei välitä meistä enää by Ray Loriga, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams, The Bedroom Secrets Of The Master Chefs by Irvine Welsh, and Tom of Finland by Arell & Mustola.

10. Are you the type of person that only reads one book at a time or can read more than one at a time?

I guess I answered that in question # 08. But there are times when I’m reading only one at a time.

11. Do you like re-reading books?

Oh fuck yes. I do it all the time. Same with movies. The only problem is, the pile of Books To Read For The First Time is yea high. The pile of Books To Re-read is higher. So, not enough time to re-read as many of them as many times as I’d like.

The Secret Tunnel

Title: The Secret Tunnel
Author: James Lear
Published: 2008 by Cleis Press
Genre: Murder, mystery and mansex.
Pages: 298


Sequel to the first book I ever wrote about on this blog, The Back Passage! (the last of the Mitch Mitchell Mysteries is called A Sticky End. Hee hee) Mitch is on his way from Edinburgh to London on the Flying Scotsman, a non-stop train service, in this humorous murder mystery in the spirit of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. In London awaits his old flame, Harry 'Boy' Morgan, whose daughter's godfather Mitch is to be. But it's a loooooong way from Edinburgh to London, with many, many buggerable arses on the way. The train is loaded with diamond merchants, movie stars, old dowagers and their companions, and of course a stowaway and a nasty murder. And men in kilts.

I really like how the stowaway-come-Watson to Mitchell's Sherlock is described on the back of the book as 'Belgian power bottom Bertrand'. And it greatly amuses me that one of the characters is named Peter Dickinson. I see what you did there, Mr. Lear. Oh, and I have to quote this bit on the back as well: "This isn't porn accompanied by a wah-wah guitar, this is porn to the strains of Beethoven's Ode to Joy, each vividly realised ejaculation accompanied by a fanfare and the crashing of cymbals." (-TIME OUT)

Like the first one, this was pretty darn sexy, fun, and real hard to put down. I just want you to know that I'm trying really hard not to make a dick-joke out of that. I read most of it in two sittings, mostly at home, because a) it was that hard to put down, and b) ...I really didn't want to explain to most work colleagues at lunch why I'm reading a book with a naked man on the cover. Who looks very much like Robert Downey Jr. to me. Heh. My only problem with this book was the few typos that had slipped in, most of them just typos, but once there was a misplaced name, too. I know I'm nitpicking, but typos can really turn me off. (I've angsted long into the night over typos I've made myself...) I bought the third, and last? of the Mitch Mitchell mysteries as well, but I think I'm gonna keep that on the shelf for now, save it for a rainy day. Because, man, these books will pick you up like Prozac.


The waiter brought our lunch, and we were obliged to change the subject.
"So today, my friend, we must give you some time to recover before, no doubt, you spend another night with your legs in the air in the Regal Hotel."
"Not always. He likes me to sit on it and slide down-"
"And we must pay some visits. Let us try, Bertrand, to keep our minds off sex, at least for the next few hours."


*snerk* Yeah, good luck with that!

Kitchen

Title: Kitchen
Author: Banana Yoshimoto
Published: 2001, but 1993 in English for the first time, and 1988 in Japanese.
Genre: Sad love song
Pages: 150


I just finished this, so I'm still a little wahh. Sniffle. First time I read Kitchen was years ago, and in Finnish. But it kept haunting me, even if just a little. And last xmas I got it! Yay. So I got to read it again.

Kitchen includes two short-shortish stories about death and love. Especially the latter one is good for crying, which is why I finished it now at home, and not at work. First one tells of a young woman who, orphaned as a child, has now just lost her only living relative left, her grandmother. A boy she hardly knows asks her to come and live with him and his eccentric mother. The book gets its title from this story's main character's love for a good kitchen. The second one, named Moonlight Shadow after the Mike Oldfield song is about a young girl who has just lost her first love, and then happens to meet a woman who promises to show her something special.

I don't usually read love stories. Well, okay, I do every now and then, but I prefer it when they're just a part of a bigger picture. But this was pure sad love. Pretty and short and sad and sweet and all that. Haunting and a little extraordinary.


"We all believe we can choose our own path from among the many alternatives. But perhaps it's more accurate to say that we make the choice unconsciously. I think I did - but now I knew it, because now I was able to put it into words. But I don't mean this in the fatalistic sense; we're constantly making choices. With the breaths we take every day, with the expression in our eyes, with the daily actions we do over and over, we decide as though by instinct. And so some of us will inevitably find ourselves rolling around in a puddle on some roof in a strange place with a takeout katsudon in the middle of winter, looking up at the night sky, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Ah, but the moon was lovely.

"I stood up and knocked on Yuichi's window."


Apparently, there's a movie of Kitchen. I may have to look for this...

Death of a Dentist

Title: Death of a Dentist
Author: M. C. Beaton
Published: 1998 by Warner Books. American edition. Ick. I bought it in the middle of the UK!
Genre: Murder mystery
Pages: 228


Two reasons I bought and (eventually) read this book: 1) I am terrified of dentists, and hoped that reading of a dead one would get me over my fear so I could go and get my chipped teeth checked, FINALLY, and 2) Hamish Macbeth is, thanks to the TV-series of the same name, possibly my favourite copper. Ever. Played by Robert Carlyle, even, who's one of my favourite actors. Ever.

So it turns out that the TV-series isn't that faithful to the books, but I'm not saying that for sure as this is only one book out of about two dozen. What I can say for sure is that they never made an episode of this one.

The whole Hamish Macbeth -series is set in the Scottish Highlands, in a small, small village called Lochdubh, and its surroundings. It's safe to say that most of the cast are a wee bit eccentric. Hamish himself is a smart cop, in truth too smart for wee Lochdubh. But he doesn't want to leave the life in a small village for a more glorious job in the big city. Death of a Dentist starts with a toothache, a robbed hotel safe and a dead dentist. The toothache is Hamish's, and when it gets bad enough, he decides to head to the dentist with a bad reputation, Gilchrist. The ache is more or less forgotten when, arriving at the man's surgery, Hamish finds Gilchrist murdered in his chair, all his teeth drilled.

Yeah, it didn't really help me with my dentist terror. But it was a fun book to read, similar in spirit to the TV-series. Or the TV-series is similar to the books in spirit, but since I was familiar with the TV-version first... I've got another one on the shelves, Death of a Dustman, but I think I'll save that for a rainy day. Especially since my Pile Of Books That I'm Reading Now is starting to be as tall as my Pile Of Books I Want To Read. Especially since I kinda have to do other things beside reading, like sleep and work and writing and drawing and such. And we just bought a PlayStation 3, so...


"Was there any point in plodding on, finding out a bit here and a bit there? Why not go back to the police station, light the fire and settle down in front of it with a detective story, preferably an American one of the more violent kind where the hero could act out Hamish's frustrations for him, slamming people up against walls and beating confessions out of them."

Scott Pilgrim

Title: Scott Pilgrim
Creator: Bryan Lee O'Malley
Published: From 2004 to 2010 by Oni Press
Genre: Comedy, action and romance.
Pages: 6 x 150-250 pages. Mostly ~180 pages a pop.


Despite having worked in a comic shop, and seeing the first, oh, five of the albums there every day, I didn't read the comics until I saw the movie. Shame on me. Shaaaame. Aaaaand I actually read them sometime late November/early December, first five in one sitting, with beer, and the last one the following morning, wishing I hadn't drunk so much beer. So what I'm capable of saying about the comics is somewhat distorted both by time and beer.

Damn, now I want a beer.

If you're not familiar with Scott Pilgrim, he's a young man in his early twenties, plays bass in a band called Sex Bob-omb, and is dating a 17-year-old. At least until this cool girl Ramona literally gets into his head. Little does Scott know, Ramona had seven evil exes, and Scott will have to fight all of them. He would actually have known about it, had he not deleted the exes' introductory e-mail as boring. Then the fight is on.

The series has won several awards, and no wonder: the art is very enjoyable, the story is amusing and touching, and the fun is awesome. And I haven't come up with anything intelligent to say in about 20 minutes, so I'll just upload this like it is. No quote, since I don't have the comics here. Would be nice to buy them sometime.

Read Scott Pilgrim!

Invisible Monsters

Title: Invisible monsters
Author: Chuck Palahniuk
Published: 1999 by Vintage
Genre: Palahniuk.
Pages: 297


Didn't I do this already? Yes, I did, in March. But! I didn't get the book until six months later. I can be a little slow. But there was this one night in September, I had taken a few beers, I'm sure, and went to bed, and for some reason started to think about this book, and burst into giggles as I realised how nuts it had really been.

So I wanted to read it again, but with the pile of Books To Read being as high as it is, I couldn't justify re-reading a book so soon. But then I was stuck with There Will Be Rainbows, and read this as a quick snack in between. And yeah. I liked it. Really fucked up book, but that's Palahniuk for you.

Protip: Don't read this book while eating. I did not need to know what felching is, especially while eating yogurt.


"The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person."

There Will Be Rainbows

Title: There Will Be Rainbows
Author: Kirk Lake
Published: 2009 by Orion Books
Genre: Biugraphy.
Pages: 264 + discography + index + stuff


Oh dear. This was read last year, but updating? Didn't happen. I'm not quite sure December happened, either. Did it? It's all quite confusing.

Anyway. The biography of Rufus Wainwright, my favourite singer/songwriter. The name is a misquote, actually, from his song 14th Street. The actual lyrics go "And there'll be rainbows..." which is addressed in the book and stuff. So it's an intentional misquote, and it's explained, so... why am I telling you all this? I don't know.

This took a looong while to read, considering I started it in November, and finished over xmas. But, as much as I love Rufus, and as interesting as it was to read about him and his family, sibling rivalry and everything, it was kinda like studying for an exam. I have read a few biographies before, and, with all my love to Rufus, enjoyed them far more. The writer would ramble on about record executives and politics, which was... boring, and go on about what Rufus' dad, mom, sister and other family members were doing, which was more interesting, considering I'm also a fan of his mom & aunt and sister, not so the dad, but. It would do all that and then pass some big, huge incidents in the main subject's life with barely a nod. 'Yes, yes, then he got raped, but this and that was also happening and the records didn't sell and DreamWorks was going bust.' It was an essay on contemporary music and record deals as much, or more so, as a biography. I was kinda hoping it would be the other way.


"Time takes a sabbatical when Rufus Wainwright sings. (...)"


Amen, New York Times, amen.