An Absolutely Remarkable Thing

According to Oscar Wilde, books are either well written or badly written; that is all. Ever since I have been aware of that sentiment, I have tried to judge books with that in mind. But I have found that, sometimes, that is a very difficult thing for me to do. Thus, what I will say is the following: this book is well structured. I really enjoyed the story and the ideas that were put into this book. Especially that of conceding that people who think differently from us, that see the world in a different way, even when we might think them bad, precisely because of their alternative point of view, may be able to solve problems that we have not been able to solve, whose solution benefits all of society.

  The thing I absolutely abhorred was the protagonist, April May. I understand that the story relies on her acting recklessly and immature. It was just extremely frustrating to read how preposterous were virtually all of her decisions. All of her friends, though, were great, and made the story great. One just had to pray for a lot of grace to tolerate April's tantrums.

  I also enjoyed the suspense, and how the story towards the end recovers ideas from the beginning, making it seem like everything was part of a well crafted plan. Though, most importantly, I really liked some of the sentences, because I felt like I could relate some of my experiences to the ideas that were being expressed. A particular example is: "I understood it, but there was no acceptance in that understanding, only bitterness, terror, frustration, and hatred piled on top of the pain." (Green, H. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing. p. 323. United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland: Trapeze, 2018). Taking that quote severely out of context, and applying it to my unrequited love life: yes, I understand that only because I am in love with someone, that does not mean the other person is meant to feel the same way about me—yet, understanding this did not lessen my heartache.

  Yes, I recommend this book. Yes, I think it is a great story, that in addition to being good fiction, lets you into the circle of what it feels to be YouTube famous. Go read this book, I promise you will have a nice time.

The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray

Oscar Wilde must have felt about The Picture of Dorian Gray the same way Basil Hallward felt about his portrait of Dorian Gray when he said: "An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. If I live, I will show the world what it is; and for that reason the world shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray." (Wilde, O. The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray. p. 68. United States of America: Harvard University Press, 2012). It felt like it was Oscar Wilde saying those words, not Basil Hallward. Maybe Oscar Wilde at some point thought people would see too much of him in his novel, as they (perhaps incorrectly) in fact do.

  This original version of the novel is immensely more beautiful than the 1891 version I had previously read. Mainly because Basil's romance for Dorian Gray becomes crystal clear, and Dorian's bisexual promiscuity becomes more crude. The story becomes more honest. But also because the novel is excised of dull and banal chapters and characters. Like James Vane, and the uninteresting chapter about his improbable death. In fact, I was extremely happy to see that the things I did not adore of the 1891 version of the novel were not in fact part of the original typescript. The result of going back to the original version is a more compact and more powerful narrative, short enough to be effortlessly read in just one day.

  I feel so grateful to be living in an age where The Picture of Dorian Gray has been published as Oscar Wilde wanted it in the first place. I will go as far as to say that now that we have this version widely available, no one should ever read neither the 1890 Lippincot's version, nor the 1891 version of The Picture of Dorian Gray. They are a completely different story that lost perfection the moment they tainted it with their censorship.

  So, if Oscar Wilde did feel what Basil Hallward felt upon finishing his portrait, why did he end up publishing the novel? Perhaps we can find the answer in Basil Hallward once again, when he later changes his mind and says: "[I]t seemed to me that I had been foolish in imagining that I had said anything in it, more than that you were extremely good-looking and that I could paint. Even now I cannot help feeling that it is a mistake to think that the passion one feels in creation is ever really shown in the work one creates. Art is more abstract than we fancy. Form and colour tell us of form and colour, that is all." (Wilde, O. The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray. p. 145. United States of America: Harvard University Press, 2012).

Monkey

What a great book of adventures! Monkey reminded me of both, Don Quixote and Iliad. As it is a book of sequential little adventures where the gods are active characters in the story and interact with the people living on Earth. Except Monkey is much nicer to read than Don Quixote because, unlike Cervantes's novel, it is the right length, and at least in Arthur Waley's translation it is quite easy and plesant to read.

  I also enjoyed getting to know more about the life that Monkey led before his voyage with Tripitaka, as it made me appreciate more his evolution from stone to Buddha. This is a great translation of a great book. It kept me entretained from beggining to end. I definitely recommend it to anyone who is looking for a light and humorous read.

Slaughterhouse-Five

I do not really have much to say about this book. The structure of the ideas felt quite strange for the first parts of the book but it gradually became more interesting towards the end in terms of narrative style. Perhaps the quaint manner of telling the story was to convey the feelings of a mad man that became that way because of the horrible experiences that he had gone through during the war. It was an enjoyable read but I would not recommend it.

A Case of Exploding Mangoes

This is a well-written book, easy to read, and at times entertaining. However, I know so little about Pakistan and its political trajectory, that I found it difficult to understand the historical references in it. This would undoubtedly be a much more interesting read for someone who is familiar with the events of the 17th of August, 1988. Whereas I did not even know whether Mohammed Hanif had used made-up names to tell a political story, until after having read the book.

  What I found particulary unfortunate was that the climax, and end, of the story was something that we all (and that includes me) knew was going to happen, and it was not distinctly interesting to read. Overall, my opinion is that this is quite a bland novel. I would be more interested in reading fantasy novels written by him. His writing style makes me think he would be great at it.

The Importance of Being Earnest and Other Plays

The five plays contained in the book are:

  2. Lady Windermere's Fan
  4. Salome
  2. A Woman of No Importance
  1. An Ideal Husband
  3. The Importance of Being Earnest

In order of appearance, and indexed according to my preference. I was mildly disillusioned with some of the plays. Particularly with The Importance of Being Earnest, because I thought it was absurd without being charming. Whereas my favourite of the plays, An Ideal Husband, was witty, funny, and entertaining.

  However, in general, the plays pale in comparison to the genius of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Mainly because Oscar Wilde takes his supercilious characters to the extreme, forcing wit into some lines which only results in hollow banality. And, in the case of Salome, the play was plain boring.

  This collection of plays definitely leaves me with mixed feelings.

the sun and her flowers

It feels unfair even to say that I did not like the sun and her flowers as much as milk and honey because evidently Rupi Kaur put so much effort and shared many experiences that show how much hardship she has endured, but it also feels true.

  It feels as if the Rupi Kaur that wrote the sun and her flowers is a much younger Rupi Kaur, in her first attempts at writing poetry, unlike the more experienced Rupi Kaur that wrote milk and honey. Which is somehow counter-intuitive as this is her second published book.

  However, this should not undermine the therapeutic properties of writing. Regardless of the quality of the outcome, writing can help alleviate the weight of your thoughts. The courage that it takes to share your experiences with others is to be celebrated.

milk and honey

The first two comments of praise for this book on its cover are a little misleading. At least I thought they were. Not only is this book "the poetry collection every woman needs on her nightstand" as The Huffington Post said, it is also a collection of poetry that every person would benefit from reading, regardless of their gender.

  Rupi Kaur's poetry is powerful and her words adequate and strongly describe rich human emotions. In sharing her experiences she teaches us by letting us know where we might have made a mistake. Her poetry has certainly made me aware of situations where my behaviour has not been appropiate. That is why I believe we could all benefit from it, because we can all learn more about respect, love, and life.

  I am grateful for having bought this book of poetry. I do recommend it, and am looking forward to reading the sun and her flowers.

Norse Mythology

I have quite mixed feelings about this book. It was very funny and easy to read, which I think are great qualities. Neil Gaiman retells Nordic myths with contemporary humour, and it was very enjoyable. However, at some point it did occur to me that the way the book was written made me feel that the names of the characters were less important than the comedy. What I mean is, the book felt more like a collection of jokes than a selection of ancient myths.

  What was worse, there was too much expectation built upon Ragnarok only for it to be disappointingly mundane. The story of Ragnarok did not add much to what was previously mentioned about it in the other stories, and it was written in the most trivial of proses.

  Given that the only thing I knew about Odin, Thor and Loki before reading the book was what I had seen in Marvel movies, I greatly enjoyed learning more about these characters. Perhaps this was a good introduction, and if you are genuinely interested in Norse mythology then look for a more serious anthology.

Tales from Watership Down

I simply did not like this book. Some of the short stories were mildly interesting, some others were vacuous. Some of them seemed more like an adaptation of human moral stories to a rabbit society meant to educate children on the concepts of right and wrong, as opposed to being stories about ways of understanding the universe in which rabbits might possibly believe and tell if they had that ability.

  I have read the opinion of some people who say that this book tries to correct the lack of female characters doing interesting things in Watership Down. Fair enough, Hyzenthlay is made co-Chief Rabbit of Watership Down, but that was briefly mentioned once in a short story and is not an important aspect of the book. Yes, Flyairth is an adventurous doe that has the courage to leave Watership Down and form her own warren. Still, female rabbits are offered as prizes to male rabbits who perform heoric acts, and female rabbits are usually the first, and often only, casualty. Not cool.

The Eye of the Reindeer

It is my understanding that this book was written to increase awareness about the Sami people and the challenges that they have faced and continue facing to this day. In that respect, the author succeeded, because I was not aware of their existence, and now I am. So well done in that regard.

  However, as a novel, I thought it tried to cover many more topics than it could successfully handle. At times devoting too much time to develop a certain aspect of the book, like the mental health of Ritva, only to abandon it later in the book as if were not that important. And in the later parts it felt like it was rushing and introduced many more characters, and it felt a bit overwhelming.

  I thought it was nice to learn about the traditions and beliefs of the Sami people, but as with Watership Down, at times it felt like the mythology was somewhat forced. I thought the book was trying too hard to distance the beliefs of the Sami people from the Christian beliefs, and I felt that maybe these comparisons were at times unnecessary. What I found particularly interesting was that the Sami people seemed to be as homophobic as the Christians. I suppose I am more or less used to the Christians' justification of their homophobia by saying that God deemed those relations "unnatural". I am curious to know, what is the Samis' excuse for their homophobia?

  I also thought that Ritva's behaviour was immature when it came to her relationship with Martta. Even after she became an adult she continued being childish in that regard. Which I found quite annoying. Though perhaps not as annoying as the sense that I got that the author wanted you to believe what the Sami people believe.

Leave It to Psmith

This is definitely the best comedy I have read in English. The only other author that I know that might rival Wodehouse's wit is Jorge Ibargüengoitia. I am really pleased that I read this book, and for that I thank Michael Torpey very much indeed.

  Of course, I also thought of The Man in the Brown Suit, and I am convinced that Agatha Christie wanted, primarily, to write a comedy. But Leave It to Psmith is on a different level. It is clear that Wodehouse had elegantly designed each character and each situation and the way in which they would fit into them. All around an extremely simple story, never losing sight of the goal of entertaining the reader.

  And I love this type of humour. I have decided that the British people are my favourite people in the whole world. I highly recommend this book. It is a very fine read.

A Thousand Splendid Suns

In the reading guide that is at the end of the book, as part of the suggested further reading, appears Half of a Yellow Sun, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and I thought that it was an excellent recommendation because as I was reading A Thousand Splendid Suns I was also thinking that these two books had a very strong connection. In both cases, the authors try to teach the reader about the history of their countries. Though, I must say, I thought Half of a Yellow Sun was more successful in that regard.

  A Thousand Splendid Suns concentrates on the violence that Afghan women have endured even before (in the case of rural Afghanistan) the rule of the Taliban. To the extent that the narrative becomes quite dark and depressing. Reading the book became much more enjoyable and interesting once my friend Katherine Wellington taught me more about the history of Afghanistan. Knowing more about the social and historical context in which the characters develop does make you appreciate the story in a more complete way.
  I am definitely grateful that I read this book because, once again, I feel like I am aware of more aspects of human history around the world. I also thougth the book was well written. It has several poignant passages that succeed in conveying the cruelty and severity with which Mariam and Laila were treated.

The Man in the Brown Suit

This book is hilarious! I am actually not sure if this is primarily detective fiction or a comedy. Maybe it is meant to be both. It definitely reminded me of a telenovela where the most absurd things always happen and every bit of mystery is carefully explained in the end, which I quite enjoy. I have decided that Sir Eustace Pedler is my favourite character. He is so charming and funny, and always has the best remarks. Although some of them are quite inappropriate and maybe it would be best if he kept those to himself, lest he end up in an article of The New York Times involved in the #MeToo movement.

  Now that I think about it, there are several remarks or descriptions that are either sexist, racist, or otherwise inappropriate. The book is amazing and kept me constantly laughing but I do wonder whether it could have benefitted from more strict editing.

  Also, the prologue is written in such a different style from the rest of the novel. Almost as if the prologue was actual detective fiction. It makes me really want to read something that is as well written.

  All in all, I highly recommend this book. You are bound to have a fun time reading it.

The Hate U Give

I am going to take Angie Thomas's words "Find your activism and don't let anyone tell you what that should look like", and say that this blog post is me doing a little activism: please read this book.

  Reading often allows us to enter someone else's experiences. In this case, it allowed me to enter Starr's experiences with racist police brutality. Despite it being a horrifying experience I believe more people should be aware of it. I also agree with Angie Thomas when she said that people tend to focus exclusively on the negative aspects of poverty stricken societies. One of the reasons that make me say that The Hate U Give is quite well written is that I think it succeeds in depicting both sides of such societies: the beautiful and the ugly. The peaceful evening at home that you spend with your family watching TV, contrasting with the shootings that you can hear on your street.
  This book was yet another opportunity to practise being empathetic, and to join in prayer so that we can all grow into a more mature, respectful, and understanding society. Please read this book, and meditate a few minutes after you finish reading it.

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

He pauses for a moment, and my eyes flutter open, and he smiles, so I smile back. And then he leans in to kiss me again, sweet and feather-soft. And it's almost too perfect. Almost too Disney. This can't actually be me.

(Albertalli, B. Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. p. 276. United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland: Penguin Books, 2018).

  I really like this book. It made me laugh so many times, and it made me cry of happiness. This is the kind of book I wanted to read when I read The Fault In Our Stars back in 2012 which, to me, was more or less of a disappointment. But Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda certainly met my expectations.

  The first part of the book was somehow difficult to read because I was not sure I was enjoying the way things were developing. Falling in love with someone you do not know but only through e-mails seemed a little too avant-garde, I suppose. But the tension that the structure of the plot builds, together with the rewardingly pleasing falling action, made me immensely grateful that I read this book.

  Also, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda gave me the opportunity to continue asking myself about my sexual orientation. And I thought it was somehow unfortunate that people had to "come out" and state their sexual orientation because it makes me think of sexual orientation as being a static object, as opposed to a dynamic one. What happens if you have already declared your orientation but soon afterwards change your mind? Do you have to come out again, this time as something else? I wonder how magical it would be if people simply assumed that everyone can fall in love with anyone, at any time. Maybe that is just me.

  By the way, Blue, I also used to love the first day of school. And it also had to do with school supplies.

Fahrenheit 451

This book was so easy to read. Perhaps as easy to read as Simon Singh's Fermat's Last Theorem. Which is enjoyable, because seeing how fast you read through the book can be satisfying.

  But the story that it tells, yet once again, makes me feel like most books are written by bibliophiles who believe knowledge is the key to humanity's greatness and success. It is at these times that I think of John Green's How Young Is History? video whose topic is, basically, that "the idea that History means progress is very new, like almost all of the 250,000-year history of humans looks more like a sine curve than an ascending line".
  Perhaps I like that video because, in my interpretation of its message, it coincides with my belief that we do not need to devote our lives to increase our rational intelligence to be happy, nor is that type of intelligence a prerequisite to have a meaningful and enjoyable life. My point is: I have heard people describe this book as one that tells about a dystopian future. But to me the idea of a society that does not read books, or that does not dedicate their lives to trying to expand the limits of knowledge, is not dystopian at all.

Fermat's Last Theorem

This book is based on a BBC documentary on the same topic which I watched back in 2011 when my friend Fabián was visiting St Andrews for the first time. Last year, also while visiting St Andrews, he gave me this book as a present.

  What is interesting about this book (and, also the documentary) is that it achieves something that, in my opinion, had been missing in other places. What I mean is: John and Hank Green have YouTube shows where they explain various subjects from the humanities and the sciences with entertaining factoids. They conspicuously do not have a show on mathematics. To be fair, it would appear to be far more challenging to have a show on mathematics. But it is precisely because of that reason that this book is remarkable, because it is a very entertaining book that aims to explain pure mathematics with a narrative full of factoids. Oddly enough, I thought the documentary was slightly better than the book.

Watership Down

This book was recommended to me by Michael Torpey, a friend whose opinion I value highly. Even though I had not previously heard about it, Watership Down apparently is almost an English classic. Almost everyone around me had at least seen the animated movie version.

  The story is entertaining and easy to read. Though I found that the rabbit mythology, introduced as short stories within the novel, felt at times like they were interrupting the fluidity of the plot. It seemed to me that the plot gained little by including these myths, and that their omission would not have significally changed the course of events. However, I must accept that having included these stories within the story did contribute to the beauty of the epilogue, which left me with a smile.

  I do agree with some of the criticism that I have read. The female rabbits are indeed portrayed mainly as sexual objects, and I do believe that all the current dialogue on sexual misconduct intensified the awkwardness of this portrayal. One must remember that this novel is based on stories that the author told his daughters to entertain them on long journeys, surely he did not mean any harm? Though there was also an ethnic reference which further contributed to making the story feel dated.

  Perhaps I am beeing too harsh. I should leave it on a positive note: Watership Down is a nice story about rabbits.