Summer Book Recap
Every summer, I set out to take some time for myself to focus on the hobbies I enjoy without my academic responsibilities looming over my shoulder. With four-week comments just around the corner, it is now time to admit that another summer is really over and assess what I did with all that time. While working multiple jobs prevented me from reading as much as I would have liked, I still got to read plenty of thought-provoking material to later unpack in article form.
Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller: Although this book is an Olde Reed legend, mostly thanks to its iconic film adaptation, the reading experience is equal parts funny and infuriating. Blue Like Jazz is a set of personal essays by a born again Christian auditing classes at our very own Reed College. Author Donald Miller comes across as a deeply self-important figure with only surface-level insights on religion, politics, and whatever other random topics on which he expresses his opinions. For me, the most relatable wisdom offered by this text occurs when Miller compares Vollum Lounge to a museum. Jazz also has very little to do with anything, blue or otherwise. Just watch the movie.
Hunk House by Ben Tyler: I wish I had anything of value to say about this deeply mid gay erotica book that made its way into the bookstore where my boyfriend worked—shoutout Bishop and Wilde in Northeast Portland! There were too many incomprehensible early 2000s references and the actual plot was unimpressive. Check out author Ben Tyler’s outdated and risqué website if you want to see a real throwback. If you’re Ben Tyler, please respond to the contact form I filled out three months ago.
Observe the Sons of Ulster Marching Towards the Somme by Frank McGuinness: I also wish I had more to say about this play from the ‘80s about Irish troops in World War I. The characters and their relationships felt underdeveloped and cliché, which is a shame because the themes of identity conflict and responses to war were full of potential. When it comes to plays from this era dealing with gay soldiers in World War I, Stephen MacDonald’s Not About Heroes is a stronger contender in my opinion, despite its own flaws and dull moments.
The Ruling Class by Peter Barnes: Another play, this one focusing on the hypocrisy of the British aristocracy. The Ruling Class follows the follies of—and the machinations against—a nobleman who believes he’s Jesus, questioning what it takes to be seen as sane in a society that is fundamentally insane. I watched the 1972 film adaptation of this play a while ago, so I appreciated reading the source material. At times, the script dragged or the balance of comedic and serious elements skewed too much, but I appreciated the central ideas at work here.
Ulysses by James Joyce: This one’s not a play, except for episode 15. Every year I like to choose at least one intimidatingly large book to read (past choices have included In Search of Lost Time, Gravity’s Rainbow, and War and Peace), and the tenuous connection to Christopher Nolan’s recent epic film led me to select Ulysses this summer. What to say that hasn’t already been said? I’m glad I got the experience of reading this book, although I don’t feel the need to reread it anytime soon. I don’t pretend to have Dedalus’ and Bloom’s movements throughout Dublin mapped out, but I enjoyed getting lost in Joyce’s labyrinthine prose.
Their Troublesome Crush by Xan West: You may be familiar with this 2020 novella from how much it has been clowned on by the Internet for its plot summary, which describes the minutiae of the characters’ identities to a ridiculous extent. The actual text does the same thing, if not worse, as the stereotypical characters stop mid-conversation to deliver unrealistically empathetic proclamations of how much they understand privilege, boundaries, or oppression, kind of like a novelization of everyone’s favorite mandatory U Got This consent training. It doesn’t help that there is absolutely no plot, romantic or otherwise. It also doesn’t help that I waited for two weeks to access this novella via Libby, but my qualms with Libby as a service belong elsewhereI knew what I was getting into when I read this novella due to its infamy online, but this was truly excruciating. Maybe I’m just not woke enough.
My Death by Lisa Tuttle: This novella irked me because it is based on a true story that is so much more interesting than the version presented here. Lisa Tuttle took inspiration from the life of poet Laura Riding, particularly her dramatic affair with fellow writer Robert Graves, which made me feel let down by a story that never really went anywhere interesting. It’s honestly impressive that a novella with less than 100 pages can still drag so much.
Angry Women, edited by Andrea Juno and V. Vale: This collection of interviews with various female performance artists and scholars from the ‘90s offered many insights into figures with whom I was not all that familiar before reading. It’s hard to give an overall assessment since each interview went in a different direction, but I appreciated the ability to get a better picture of these artists and this moment in time.
Watchmen by Alan Moore: I liked the art. I finally got to return the book to the friend who graciously lent it to me nearly a year ago. When I spend so long trying to read something, the relief of finishing it overshadows any thoughts or feelings I might have.
Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72 by Hunter S. Thompson: Through his eclectic writing style, Hunter S. Thompson manages (at times) to make the 1972 presidential election interesting. When reading early parts of the book, I could almost suspend my knowledge that Nixon would win, but by the end the crushing despair of Nixon’s victory and the corrupt presidents who would later succeed him was impossible to ignore. Despite his political incorrectness, Thompson makes a compelling rallying cry for the freaks of the world to unite.
While I didn’t read everything that I wanted to over the summer, there is no reason to stop expanding my literary horizons, even once the school year has started. If I succeed in this goal, you can expect more reviews to come.
