Books I Read December 7th, 2025

What can I say, I like the holidays. The explosion of Christmas markets is a noticeable delight. LA looks wonderful by fairy lights. We pretend it's cold. I'm such a child that I bought myself a present, then had it shipped to my parent's house so I can open it on Christmas morning.

Admiring Silence by Abdulrazak Gurnah – A heart illness causes a weak-willed Zanzibari (sp?) exile to consider colonialism, family, romance, history, many other things in this extremely funny, cerebral text. Shades of Saul Bellow in the 'dazed man undergoes mental breakdown' as well as the humor and depth of thought. Really strong, I'll pick up something else by Gurnah soon.

The Stone Country by Alex la Guma – An apartheid rebel in the early 60s undergoes a stay in a penitentiary, based (presumably) on the author's own experiences. The plot is brisk and engaging, the writing clear and strong. These sorts of overtly political novels tend to seem a little naive after the struggle is over but that doesn't take away from the skill of this work.

The Myth of the Birth of the Hero: A Psychological Exploration of Myth by Otto Rank – Freud's apprentice inspects Western myth for evidence of psychosexual undertones. There's a lot of fuzzy logic, as is the case with most psychoanalysis of this period—coming out of water represents birth, but going into water also represents birth, etc. It's something much closer to literary criticism than scientific thought.

Swann's Way by Marcel Proust – A Frenchman feels things. I last read Proust some 15 years ago, and have very vivid memories of carrying the first volume of the Montcrief edition through Eastern Europe, reading it on busses and for several day's in a commune in Talin. That's neither here nor there, except to say that big works have a way of sticking with you, carrying their own weight, to the point where one starts to wonder if the work itself has not been overshadowed by the strength of memory. This is the sort of concern that Proust would have, and express over the course of seven or eight thousand words. Anyway, I'm really enjoying it. It needs to be consumed fiercely, voraciously, in great gasps so that you can maintain Proust's ferocious rhythm, packed onto a night train or (in this case) read while walking very rapidly on a treadmill. Last time I read it, I didn't really realize what a massive tool Swann is supposed to be—then again, no one really comes out well in this, as memory serves, except for a couple of his elderly family members. Excited to get to the next one.

Fate of a Cockroach by Tewfik Al-Hakim – Absurdist and romantic plays from early 20th century Egypt's most beloved playwright, no seemingly entirely forgotten? Which is too bad, because the eponymous Beckett riff is a lot of fun.

The Harp and the Shadow by Alejo Carpentier – Columbus's case for sainthood is dissected via a last testament, several ghosts. Very good, very modern feeling, the fantastic intimately threaded through the mundane. Carpentier writes well and in distinct styles, and for an expressly political novel it is never didactic or dull. I've got like 3 more by him to read and I'm looking forward to getting to them.