Category: Book Reviews

What happens when you cross the line…


… when you discover a taste for the unthinkable?

Could you be drawn into a murder?

For friendship?

For a way out of your dreary experience?

These are the haunting words on the back cover of the novel Out by female Japanese novelist Natsuo Kirino (Book #46 for 2009, Book 7 for diversity challenge – book discussion selection).

I had been mulling over my choices for this month’s FFP discussion, which will center around Japanese books. I have a bunch of Murakamis in my TBR, but I read Norwegian Wood last year and I don’t think I am ready for another one just yet. I also have Snow Flower, Secret Fan by Lisa Yee, but I also just recently read Memoirs of A Geisha and I wasn’t in the mood for another geisha novel so soon. I was considering reading a couple of manga books, when I took out the front stacks of my TBR shelf and found this book.

I’d been terribly busy the past week, so I was apprehensive that I wouldn’t be able to finish this book, at 520 pages, but I read a few odd chapters Wednesday night, polished off nearly half of it last night, and finally finished it off about an hour ago.

Researching on Natsuo Kirino for the weekend’s discussion, I found out that Out is actually an award winning novel: it received the Grand Prix for Crime Fiction, Japan’s top mystery award, and was a finalist (in English translation) for the 2004 Edgar Award. It is also Kirino’s first novel published in English, and the US film rights have been bought by New Line Cinema, to be directed by Nakata Hideo (of The Ring fame).

It was also interesting to find out that Natsuo Kirino is one of the most famous writers in the rise of Japanese women’s detective (misuterii) fiction that started in the 1990s, who have uniquely used the genre of detective fiction to depict and comment on present-day Japanese society and the Feminist situation.

Translated by Stephen Snyder, Out is a gritty crime novel about 4 women in contemporary, urban Japan: Yayoi, Masako, Yoshie, and Kuniko, who work on the night shift in the assembly line of a bento box factory. The foursome leads a troubled existence, each in their own way: Yayoi has a philandering and gambling husband; Masako is estranged from her husband and son right in her own home; Yoshie is a struggling widow with an ailing mother in law and a wayward daughter; and Kuniko is a shopaholic buried in debt.

One night Yayoi turns up at work dazed, and they find out her husband has beaten her, and she reveals that he has gambled away all their life savings. The next day, Masako gets a phone call from Yayoi asking for help — she has killed her Kenji in a fit of rage. Masako volunteers to dispose of the body, enlisting the help of Yoshie and Kuniko. The three dismember Kenji’s body and fill several trash bags, divided among themselves for disposal across the city.

The story gets more complicated after the body parts are discovered in a city park, and the police start investigating. But the women have more than the police to fear — a money-grubbing loan shark who figures out what they’re done, and a menacing nightclub owner who loses everything when he becomes the primary suspect in their crime and is now out to exact his revenge.

Out is definitely not for the weak of heart — it pushes the envelope on conventional views on sex, violence, feminism, and justice. I’m one of the less squeamish readers I know, but even I found this novel difficult to take in. It took me a while to remember why I actually mooched this book, and after racking my brains I remember why — I came across it in a recommendation list after I read Perfume by Patrick Suskind (which I have yet to review, but I’m looking forward to rereading it for an FFP discussion this year, so I’ll save it for then).

Out is similar to Perfume mostly because of the methodical procedures related to the murder (Grenouille’s approach to murder in Perfume and the carving of Kenji’s body parts in Out). Reading this book, I felt like I was watching episode after episode of Crime Night, and while uneasy, I was also reading in morbid fascination, much like I had read Perfume.

But the similarities end there. While I sympathized with Grenouille’s character in Perfume, I clearly knew he was psychotic and I can honestly say I would never go on a rampage like him. In Out, I could identify with the four women, as real as they come, who each dreamt of an escape from their lives, a way out. And it really got me thinking: would I do the same if I were in a similar bind?

I remember a text message I’d exchanged with some gal pals some years back; I don’t remember the exact words, but it went something like this: if I had killed a man, my friends would show up on the doorstep with a shovel, no questions asked.

Would I do it if a friend asked for my help?

What would it take to push me across the line?

The questions are haunting, but they do make you think.

As this is the first Japanese detective fiction I’ve read, I’m amazed that the Japanese culture has a long history of mystery writers, and is probably the only culture outside the Western world that has successfully assimilated this genre.

I’m also blown away that female Japanese writers were able to take this Western genre and make it their own (Japanese women’s detective fiction is a very popular genre, apparently), giving us an insight into the female situation. So many issues were successfully tackled in this book that were seamlessly incorporated into the story — domestic abuse, prostitution, poverty, climbing up the corporate ladder, beauty, weight, self-image — not easy, I imagine, but Natsuo Kirino does it quite well.

Now that I’ve discovered Japanese detective fiction, this opens a whole new world for me in mystery books — it’s a whole new genre to explore!

That’s it for now, must pack
for the weekend!

***
My copy: Vintage trade paperback, mooched from the US

My rating: 4/5 stars

Taking fan art to the next level

In May last year, the Flippers’ first book discussion was on the book Life of Pi by Yann Martel.

Before the discussion, I’d seen the book around but never felt the urge to pick it up. I rarely pick up books with spiritual/ inspirational themes because they trigger an involuntary gag reflex in me, so I was dreading reading this book.

Surprisingly, the gagging never came because I actually liked the book. Not in a love-it-to-bits sense, but I appreciated it, and was glad the book discussion required me to read it.

Life of Pi is the story of Piscine “Pi” Molitor Patel, a boy of multiple religions, who is a shipwreck survivor floating adrift in the ocean on a lifeboat with a circus tiger named Richard Parker.

I like the book because it questions perception, and because it reminds us that sometimes the journey is more important than the destination.

To my surprise, I also enjoyed the book’s humor. I really appreciate good humor in a book, and I did not expect this book to make me laugh, but it did, especially the part when Pi was practicing the three religions and the family runs into all three religious leaders and his multi-belief system is revealed; the Pi Patel Indo-Canadian, Trans-Pacific, Floating Circus; the encounter with the Frenchman (whom Pi mistook to be Richard Parker at first); and the interrogation scene at the end of the book.

But this review isn’t about the story of Life of Pi, it’s about a particular edition of the book: the deluxe illustrated edition, featuring the paintings of Croatian Tomislav Torjanac.

In 2005, an international competition was launched to find an illustrator for the novel. Thousands of entries were sent in from all over the world, and Torjanac was selected to illustrate the deluxe edition.

From Amazon Outtakes:

The book includes over 40 illustrations in oil, taken from Pi’s perspective (Pi is never seen in the illustrations, just his hands and feet), documenting his bizarre journey in vibrant color.

Here are some illustrations, from http://www.torjanac.com/lifeofpi.html and http://lifeofpi.co.uk (copyright Tomislav Torjanac)

Lord, avert their eyes from me, I whispered in my soul.
I threw the mako towards the stern.
“There goes our lunch.”

I think it’s great, how Yann Martel and the publishers thought of involving readers this way. I can imagine the feeling, if for instance, JK Rowling did it for one of the Harry Potter books (or if a local publisher comes up with a Filipino translation and mounted a similar contest — hahaha, my fantasy), or if any of my other favorite books were up for illustration.

I would think it’s exciting and scary at the same time, to be given a chance to illustrate a a new edition of a book you’ve loved for a long time, with the knowledge that hundreds of people around the world have loved it too and are eagerly awaiting your illustrations.

I remember a discussion about illustrated novels posted at Flips Flipping Pages last year. Someone commented that a lot of bestsellers are getting illustrated, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was a marketing ploy, or if readers had such short attention spans that they needed to have books with pictures. b

Those reasons probably hold true, and I say, if it gets more people to read, so much the better.

But speaking as an illustrator, I see the illustrations as an extension of the reading experience, not mere accompaniments to the text. Illustrations translate one art form (literature) into another (visual art), much like a book made into a movie, and can convey a meaning beyond the text, as the illustrator adds his or her own nuances in interpreting the text.

And speaking as a big fan (and obsessive bargain-hunting collector) of illustrated novels, I say there is nothing wrong with enjoying an illustrated book; it doesn’t mean you lack imagination or need a visual aid. It’s about appreciating it for what it is – art!

***
My copy: hardbound US (Harcourt) with dustjacket, a birthday gift from Triccie
(Back story: I lent my brother my trade paperback, he took it to his dorm and it was devoured by termites — he now grovels if he wants to borrow a book)

My rating: Life of Pi Illustrated Edition 5/5 stars; Life of Pi trade paperback 3.5/5 stars

The Pagan series

After several days of interrupted reading, I finally finished Pagan in Exile by Catherine Jinks (Book #45 for 2009).

The Pagan books have been in my wishlist for some time now, and I was surprised to come across Pagan’s Crusade (book 1) at Book Sale last year. Cecille got me Pagan in Exile for Christmas.

After two books in the series, I still pretty much don’t get it. The past few days have been busy for me, but if Pagan in Exile was interesting enough, I’d have finished it the first day.

I was really interested in the series as I have never read any Templar knight novels before, but I had several problems with this series.

First, I really hate it when books do not provide enough context into the central ideas that form the backbone of the story. This series, for instance, is set some time during the Crusades, but assumes the reader knows all about the Crusades.

I blanch at books like this, which plunge you right into a foreign concept, because it’s difficult to get into the story and even more difficult to imagine it. Style-wise, it’s okay if concepts are explained along the way, e.g. Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief, which takes some getting used to but makes it all worth it in the end. But if the author simply expects you to make conjectures out of the meager information provided, it’s just plain annoying.

Second, Pagan, the protagonist sticks out like a sore thumb in this series. He is supposed to be a wisecracking teener who serves as a squire for a Templar knight. Annoying wisecracks notwithstanding, he doesn’t sound like someone from the period in which the book is set. However vague the time period is, I’m sure they weren’t quipping Wham! or hups-a-daisy! or God, how I hate monasteries in the Crusades.

Yawn, yawn. What a bore. Nothing to look at. Nothing to eat. Not much of a road, this one. A real goat track, hemmed in by scrubby forest: the occasional oak, lots of sweet chestnuts, wild thyme, campions and other things I don’t recognize. Little brown birds. Twit, twit, twit. Enough to drive you crazy.

Pagan’s thought process and sarcasm are disjointed against the historical setting. I understand that the character is wisecracking, but I’m sure that with the proper research, the author could have prevented Pagan from being an anachronism in his own title series. It just takes away the credibility of his character.

Speaking of speech, the series contains a lot of cuss words (not to mention sexual content) that makes it inappropriate for young readers.

Finally, the storyline is frustrating. After two books, I felt as if I’d been led around in circles. There is no clear plot developmen, no goals for the protagonists to achieve, no rising action or climax, and the books just make you plod on and on and on.

It hits another of my pet peeves — I get really annoyed when I don’t know what the author is driving at. I have hundreds of books waiting to be read and I devote time to your book, the least you can do is to let me know that there is a point to reading it.

I tried to like this series, but come on, throw me a bone here…

I don’t think I’ll read the rest of the series.

***
My copies: Pagan’s Crusade, trade paperback, from Book Sale (~P80); Pagan in Exile, trade paperback, from Cecille — both mooched already.

My rating: Pagan’s Crusade 2/5 stars; Pagan in Exile 2/5 stars; Pagan series 2/5 stars

Lenten Special: Tuna Melt

I’ve been in the middle of a book for some days now (Pagan in Exile), and admittedly, I’ve been losing interest in it. So tonight I decided to “cleanse the palate” with a cookbook, my first cookbook review for the year :)
Book #44 for 2009: Grilled Cheese: 50 Recipes to Make you Melt by Marlena Spieler, from one of my favorite publishers, Chronicle Books. This book caught my eye at the National Bookstore Book-sak Presyo sale last December at Market! Market! because I looooove cheese. All sorts of cheese (no, processed cheese isn’t counted), and the stinkier, the better.
Because it’s Lent, I decided to try the recipe for spiced up tuna melt (Tuna Melt with Spanish Flavors), and it’s great because I had all the ingredients — tuna, Monterey Jack cheese, bell peppers (that I roasted in the oven toaster), paprika, half an onion, mayo, olive oil, and some salt and pepper to taste.

Aside from the long time it took me to peel the bell pepper (note: next time, canned pimientos!), it was pretty easy, just like making normal tuna spread except with more ingredients. I had fun using the mezzaluna knife (a la Nigella) that my mom bought at Crate and Barrel (comes with its own chopping board!) for the fine chopping.

And then I grilled the sandwich (brushed with olive oil on the surface) on a non-stick pan, using a clean saucer to weigh down the bread (my battery was conking out, so no photo of the saucer).

When the bread was nicely browned, I sliced it down the middle and yum — cheese came oozing out! :) It was yummy — the paprika and the bell peppers gave the tuna spread some zip, and some smokiness. The Monterey jack was nicely melted; I got cheesy strings stretching out as I bit into the sandwich. Sigh… it was perfect!

My yummy tuna melt!

My goal is to try out all the recipes in this book within my lifetime, and maybe invent some of my own. I need to collect more cheese “specimens” (not a wide variety available in this country, and expensive, too!) to experiment with the different combinations of grilled cheese sandwiches in the book… Meanwhile, just flipping through the pages makes my mouth water.

I think I’ll go make another tuna melt! :D

***

My copy: paperback, bought for P50

My rating: book 5/5 stars, tuna melt 5/5 stars

Blast from the Past (Picture book roundup #3)

There are some books that stand out in my childhood memories, and I am on a crusade to find them all again to add to my collection. It hasn’t been easy, as some of them have been out of print for a while now, so I scour Book Sale and BookMooch for copies.
Recently I was able to find some of them, and I thought I’d share them here (Books 41-43 for 2009).First up is Tubby and the Lantern by Al Perkins, illustrated by Rowland Wilson. For a long time I couldn’t remember the title of this book, I just knew we read it in Think & Try (my pre-school) days, during story time and it was shown on Batibot, and that there was a Chinese boy and an elephant.
I mooched a copy from the US, and had it sent to my my mom when she was in the States as the user wasn’t sending international. Finally it came in one of the balikbayan boxes my mom sent home.

Tubby and the Lantern is about the friendship of a Chinese boy named Ah Mee and a small elephant named Tubby. It’s set in a Chinese, lantern-making town, where Ah Mee’s parents are the best lantern makers. On Ah Mee’s birthday, Tubby decides to surprise Ah Mee by making him a giant lantern, which proves disastrous as he is carried into the air and Ah Mee has to save him.

I remember back in pre-school, we had a lantern-making session after reading the book, just like Ah Mee and Tubby made them. Except the candles, of course!

Even more than 20 years later, I still love the story and the cheery illustrations. The illustrator, Rowland B. Wilson, used to work for Playboy, and also worked on animated films like Disney’s Hercules, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Little Mermaid, and Tarzan, as well as Don Bluth’s Thumbelina. He also worked on the series Schoolhouse Rock.

(Tubby and the Lantern photo by Glenn Mullaly)

The next book is also a throwback to my kindergarten days — Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman (illus. by Eulalie). I still don’t have a copy of this book, but I found a modernized version by Little Golden Books, entitled The Boy and the Tigers (by Helen Bannerman, illus. by Valeria Petrone).

Little Black Sambo is the bizarre story of a boy who walks into a jungle (haha, a leisurely stroll, with an umbrella to boot!) and runs into a pack of tigers, who make him give up his clothes, shoes, and even his umbrella in exchange for his life. The tigers end up fighting over Little Black Sambo’s belongings and they spin round and round chasing each other until they melt into a puddle of butter and Little Black Sambo’s father uses the butter to make pancakes for the family! Fascinating stuff, really!

I remember reading this over and over with morbid interest when I was a kid; I even remember dressing up in my raincoat and umbrella so I could role-play Little Black Sambo and fend off the fierce tigers. So I was so disappointed with the new edition, because it was sanitized and cutesy-fied so it’s less offensive and more lovable. The original book was criticized for being racist, but I grew up reading the book and I was oblivious to the racism, I think it was more anti-tiger than anything else, hehe.

In the new edition, Little Black Sambo becomes a hindu boy named Rajani and the tigers are so cute they’re not even scary. The illustrations are great, but they obviously chose the style to bowdlerize the new edition.

Arrgh!!! I still want a copy of Little Black Sambo.

Finally, my last book for the roundup is Many Moons by James Thurber, illustrated by Louis Slobodkin. It won a Caldecott Medal in 1943.
I actually have two copies of this book, a new paperback edition that I found at the Book Sale Warehouse and an old hardbound library discount that I found at the Book Sale in Cagayan de Oro (P35!), but in case you’re wondering, I’m not letting either one go.

I remember this was the final story in our CRL workbook in Grade 3 (i think…) and it’s about Princess Lenore, the princess who asks for the moon, and the court jester (who outwits the Lord Chamberlain, the palace wizard, and the mathematician) who gets the moon for her.

It’s a great fairy tale, and Louis Slobodkin’s swirly illustrations are the perfect touch.

I am still looking for a copy of Tikki Tikki Tembo, Robert the Rose Horse, and Are You My Mother? I hope I can find them soon :)

***

My copies: Tubby and the Lantern, hardcover; The Boy and the Tigers, hardcover; Many Moons, paperback / hardcover

My rating: Tubby and the Lantern, 5/5 stars; The Boy and the Tigers, 2/5 stars; Many Moons, paperback / hardcover 5/5 stars