Hello Nasty Reading Challenge

I read a couple last year when I had thought about doing this challenge that I can recommend- All the President's Men for "Super Disco Breakin'" (or break-in, in the case of Watergate) and Lopez Lomong's Running For My Life for "Body Movin'", which would also work for "The Move". Also recently enjoyed A Deadly Education, which fits nicely for either the first-person narrator or the book set in a school.

Currently working on Steven Strogatz's Sync for "Dr. Lee", which I'll write up when I'm finished, and just checked out Exit West for "The Move". Got on the waitlist at the library for Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy ("Super Disco Breakin'") and Amusing Ourselves to Death ("Remote Control"), but other challenges are wide open.

Jimmy, I recommend the following books in the following categories if you’re fielding suggestions:
“Intergalactic”: Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie
“And Me”: The Einstein Intersection by Samuel R. Delany
“The Negotiation Limerick File”: Meditations in an Emergency by Frank O’Hara
“Picture This”: Vision: Little Less Than a Man by Tom King
“Instant Death”: My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk

I have read K. Chess's Famous Men Who Never Lived! It was... I don't know, I felt they could have done more with the conceit than they did?

Yeah, that I would totally read. That would be a much better way to deal with that conceit than what they did. Somebody get me K. Chess' agent.

The search continues for the great UK immigrant narrative as, with some disappointment (but not nearly as much as White Teeth), I have completed The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi, a bildungsroman set in late 70s/early 80s Britain about a mixed-up, mixed race teenager's search for identity. I was actually quite pleased with the first half of this book, since comparisons to Philip Roth and a blurb by Norman Mailer had me expecting nothing but self-indulgence and misogyny. The protagonist (who is not an immigrant, but the son of one - the Buddha of the title) is compassionate, sensitive, and bisexual--which may not be a coincidence. The supporting characters, including an excellent Asian female foil, are all well-drawn and realistic, while still being funny and interesting. The problem is that somewhere in the back half of the book, Kureishi seems to lose interest in telling a story with a resolution and just piles on a bunch of pointless and very unsexy sex scenes. I don't know if this was an editing decision to make the book more 'shocking' and therefore more buzzworthy, or if Kureishi IS just indulging himself in that way that male writers sometimes do...Anyway, it really dragged down the ending. The other issue I have is with telling, rather than showing. Kureishi helpfully includes a few paragraphs articulating the book's message about identity, but they don't match his characters' subsequent actions. Like: it's established that Karim cares deeply for Jamila and that he is bothered by the racism they experience, so he must understand why she wants him to attend the anti-racism protest. However, when he doesn't go, he doesn't seem to connect the dots and understand why Jamila's so disappointed in him. Likewise, Karim's father 'the Buddha' is on to something when he says the English have no "soul", but then he decides to marry the increasingly materialistic Eva. I fully expected this book to end with Karim buying a ticket to India to find the part of himself that he has never understood (as indicated by his cringe-inducing acting choices), but instead he...takes a bunch of people to dinner? How does that indicate growth or change? That's not a conclusion! Overall, worth reading and the Bowie soundtrack is EXCELLENT, but points deducted. 

My selection for "Song for the Man" is lost in the mail, so I've had to resort to the slow process of reading it on my phone from the Libby app...For "Just a Test" I read Botchan, a classic of Japanese lit that's much more lighthearted than Natsume's Kokoro. Despite being written a hundred years ago, much of this story of a hapless young teacher in rural Shikoku resonated with my experiences as an English teacher with the JET program. Although the translation by a non-native English speaker (one assumes) is a bit clunky, this was a diverting read, with some evocative passages that made me quite nostalgic. 

I have completed What's My Name, Fool?: Sports and Resistance in the United States by Dave Zirin for "Body Movin'. I have to say, I'm really glad I stumbled upon this compilation of Zirin's columns, since they aren't so much about sports as they use sports as a lens for socio-political analysis. Starting with the integration of baseball through figures like Lester Rodney and Jackie Robinson, continuing with the protests of Muhammad Ali, John Carlos & Tommie Smith, and touching upon the National Anthem debate that would culminate in Kaepernick's mistreatment by the NFL (the book was published just before this), the book also has some sharp observations about union-busting, corruption in the NCAA, hypocrisy over steroid use, homophobia, and disastrous public funding for stadiums. It's written at a level that would be accessible for young people, so I'm keeping it in mind for my future career as a social studies teacher and passing this on to the Little Free Library nearest the park and elementary school. 

For "Puttin' Shame in Your Game" I read a rather musty and dubious find from my beloved Squeezebox used books & music in Evanston: Brotherhood of Evil: The Mafia, by a "roving editor for the Reader's Digest", one Frederic Sondern Jr. This interested me because 1) I am really into in the history of organized crime 2) I have an interest in historiography as it relates to writing about crime (ie. the Roshomon effect) and 3) this was written in 1958 - post-Appalachin but pre-Valachi Papers -  when many of the the notorious figures were still alive and seen as a threat by the U.S. government. The foreword is written by Harry J. Anslinger, a top official in the Justice Department who can be credited/blamed for the War on Drugs, so that gives you a sense of the strange mixture of moral panic, self-righteousness, aggrandizement of law-enforcement, and grudging admiration for mobsters that seemed to be the zeitgeist. It is, as you may expect, rife with inaccuracies, overgeneralizations, and exaggerations. Much of it borders on cultural insensitivity, though the author does at least state early on that the bad generalizations only apply to this particular group of Italian criminals and that they are only a small subset of the hardworking and honest Italian immigrant population. Based on everything written since 1958, the chapter on "The Grand Design of Alphonse Capone" is entirely wrong and the book openly refutes things about the Genovese crime family that were later confirmed to be true. I think this book was written to lure readers in with the exciting exploits of gangsters, only so the cops could present their side of the story. Personally, I don't adhere to the ACAB philosophy when it comes to detective work or combatting organized crime, but I can't say that the chapters focused on law enforcement were particularly interesting. If we frame crime history as 'good guys' vs. 'bad guys', the 'bad guys' are always going to be more compelling because they don't have boring desk jobs. I'd like to see (or perhaps write...?) crime histories that are more detached from either side of the 'thin blue line' and take more of a sociological approach (since organized crime can be interpreted as a form of collective action). These books also need to be written better - it seems like men get really lazy when they know they're writing for an audience of other men. 

For "Flowin' Prose" I read The Home and the World (Ghare Baire) by Rabindranath Tagore, the most accomplished author of pre-Independence India. This was AMAZING - with a clear vision, heady themes, and a surprisingly Modern approach to storytelling. Herman Hesse wishes he wrote like this. Friggin' DH Lawrence could also take notes. Virginia Woolf would have loved the strong female protagonist. It goes a little soft at the climax, but at least it's not predictable. Five stars. 

moimoi I’m pretty sure a lot of Thrilling Cities made it into Diamonds are forever is basically a travelogue and an adaptation of his own travel writing and diaries of a trip across the US. Unfortunately that means we get a surprising amount of time at spas in Saratoga Springs—not recommended.

I’ve been very intermittently doing a read-through of the Bond books, and wasn’t sure whether to end on On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which has an excellent reputation and has a natural ending point, or You Only Live Twice, which ties up the former novel’s loose ends but is supposed to be where the quality of the books nosedives. Given his Far East stuff I think I’ll quit with OHMSS.

Next for me is Dr. No, which I’ve heard is interesting because it’s considerably more progressive than the film—Quarrel, the black boat pilot, is just a short, stereotypical role in the film but (from what I’ve read/heard) is essentially Bond’s right-hand man in the novel. Ursula Andress’s character is explicity not supposed to be conventionally beautiful, and again has more of collaborative role with more focus on her skills and education. The way I saw it described was that it’s basically at a juncture point in upper-class British mindsets—the three are equals in capabilities, but Bond is definitely first among equals—the white man’s still on top, even as he’s beginning recognize the humanity of others, at least in theory or fiction.

For "Three MC's and One DJ" I read a really cool anthology called The Chicago Neighborhood Guidebook, compiled by Rust Belt press and featuring contributions from diverse Chicago creatives. I really like the focus on less-celebrated neighborhoods and the variety of approaches, including poetry and photo essays. I hope they make a sequel featuring the rest of Chicago's 77 official neighborhoods.

For "The Negotiation Limerick File" I read A Shropshire Lad by A.E. Houseman, which really should be titled 'poems about death and dying young'. It's funny because I remember reading Houseman in high school and liking him a lot, but I probably would have liked him even more if I had read this.

For "Electrify" I read The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas. This book has everything: mayhem violence, a strong female love interest, dastardly villains and gardening! Seriously, it's about intrigue among tulip fanciers and it's a great read. Dumas is a badass.