July Indoors

Hello, Everybody--nice seeing you again.

I had to spend most of July indoors, so I've been doing a lot of reading. Here are some of the books I've read in the past month.

Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger, By Margaret Mittelbach and Michael Crewdson, artwork by Alexis Rockman. (2005, Villard Books). Margaret and Michael are a writing team, and I don't even understand how that works. I think of writing as something solitary and painful, like pulling out your own teeth with a pair of pliers, but somehow they sit down together and write the most interesting and fun books and articles about natural history stuff. While they were doing some research at the American Museum of Natural History a while back, they came across a taxidermied specimen of the extinct Tasmanian tiger and fell in love with it. (I'm not sure how that works, either, but to each his own.) They ended up traveling to Tasmania with their pothead artist friend, Alexis, and his girlfriend, and a friend of a friend, and all sorts of things happened including that they learned the verb “to quoll.” Their book about their adventures in Tasmania is extremely amusing and good-humored, just like Michael and Margaret. To celebrate the publication of Carnivorous Nights, they had a party and taxidermy competition at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. DJ Dorian  was one of the judges, and my armadillo handbag, Randall, won a prize. It was one of the most fun parties I've ever been to, and they said they're going to do it again when the paperback comes out.

(P.S.--The picture of me making a face with Randall Handbag is not the best picture of me ever posted online. This one is better. I can't wait to hear this edition of Chris T's “Communication Breakdown, 'cause I think Jeff is a nice guy and would look really good in a fireman's outfit.)

Moravagine, by Blaise Cendrars.(Copyright 1926, translation 1968, published in paperback 2004 by New York Review Books.) I came across this in Posman Books when I was looking for the new translation of Don Quixote. The cashier guy who usually rolls his eyes when I come up to the register with something like Happy Kitty Bunny Pony got all excited when I plunked this book down on the counter. He wanted me to come back and let him know how I liked it. I dunno. Maybe I would have liked it better in 1926, when it was written, but it kept reminding me of the scene in the first Austin Powers movie where Dr. Evil says he want “One MILLION dollars!” Ooh, Blaise Cendrars is so pervy and evil! Plus, I just couldn't get into the whole deal with Blaise Cendrars being a pen name or an alterego or whatever, and the whole artifice of his background: “What is true? What is false?” You know what? I don't much care. But maybe I just need it explained a little better. I wish DJ Rix  would read this book and tell me what he thinks of it.

The Secret Architecture of Our Nation's Captial: The Masons and the Building of Washington, D.C., by David Ovason. (2000, HarperCollins Publishers.) I do believe David Ovason had something to say when he wrote this book. What was it, I wonder? I finished this book--all 465 grueling pages, including the notes--in July, but I've actually been reading it every night for over a year. I could never manage more than about a page before I became unconscious. It is the most soporific volume I've ever read, and I recommend it only as an infallible aid to sleep. I plan to donate my copy to the WFMU station library.

Happy Kitty Bunny Pony: A Saccharine Mouthful of Super Cute, by Charles S. Anderson Design Co. with text by Michael J. Nelson (2005, Harry N. Abrams, Inc.) Did you believe me when I said I bought a book with this title? I got it to cheer myself up, and because looking at it doesn't require any thought process whatsoever. There are pictures of kitties and bunnies and ponies, and some duckies, too, though I recommend caution when purchasing books that are authored by a Co. Michael J. Nelson turns out to be one of the guys on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Sometimes he's funny, and sometimes--especially after the first 100 pages of cute pictures of kitties, bunnies, ponies, et cetera--he sounds like he's trying a little too hard. I don't exactly regret buying it, but it is the only book I've ever tried to get Sluggo to store on his bookshelves.

Meditation as Medicine, by Dharma Singh Khalsa, M.D., and Cameron Stauth. (2001, Fireside.) One good thing about getting cancer is that it can make you more receptive to trying new things. In the first part of this book, Dr. Khalsa is very careful to explain kundalini yoga and meditation practice in terms of Western Scientists-and-Experts' research into the endocrine system, glands, the vagus nerve, neurological PET scans, spatial-temporal reasoning, and so on. Obviously, this is aimed at people who are really skeptical about mudras and chakras and whatnot. All I know is that I get up every day at 5 AM and take a cold shower anyway, so I figured I might as well try the rest of Dr. Khalsa's program. I had a very dramatic reaction the first time I tried the medical meditation for the immune system, and I felt really good all day. I'm still not sure what a chakra is, but I'm actually not sure what my thymus gland is, either--that doesn't mean either of them is nonexistent. Right now a new copy of the hardcover version of this book costs less than the paperback on Amazon.

Pet Architecture Handbook, by Tokyo Institute of Technology Tsukamoto Architectural Laboratory and Atelier Bow-wow. (World Photo Press, not sure what year.) This book is not by a Co., it is by an Institute. Or a Laboratory. Or an Atelier. Sorry I don't have a picture of it. It's  a collection of photos and brief descriptions of 73 wee, tiny, eccentric buildings--most of them commercial spaces--in Tokyo, plus project proposals for 8 more itty-bitty buildings. Sluggo gave me this book to read and, while it is cute and interesting, it puts me to sleep almost as fast as the book about the Masons and Washington, D.C.

Here is a book I read a long time ago, and talked about on my old book club show on WFMU: The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll. The author, Jean Nathan, is going to be at the Bryant Park reading room this Wednesday, August 10, at 12:30. I wish I could take my copy of the book for her to sign, but I'm still spending all my time indoors. I thought you might want to check it out, though. It's a really good book, and I think the paperback's just come out.

So that's the full report on my month of reading. Thanks for reading my blog entry, and may God bless.
-Bronwyn C.

Comments

[Hatch]

I happen to think that Blaise Cendrars' writing happens to have a bit more depth than an Austin Powers movie. Moravagine is actually a really fascinating and extemely entertaining read. So is the amazing Dan Yack, about an eccentric heir who convices a trio of young artists to join him on a pointless voyage to Antarctica. All three of them die. I should also mention Gold, a great historical novella about John Augustus Sutter, who made and subsequently lost a fortune during the gold rush. If we're going to throw around film references, that book was made into a movie by William Wyler at the suggestion of none other than Sergei Eisenstein. I'd be inclined to call that a slightly higher pedigree than the ubiquitous Jay Roach/Mike Meyers trilogy. Cendrars was also a highly influential poet, and there's a beautiful copy of his "La prose du Transibérien et de la petite Jeanne de France" hanging in the Prints And Illustrated Books section of the MOMA.

[WmMBerger]

Bronwyn, I felt you needed a positive comment here. If I still read books for pleasure (editor's disease), I'd certainly check out the one or two that you seemed to sort of like. Don't know Blaise Cendrars, but anyone with that name probably needs a good slap.

The last book I read was Paul Naschy's autobiography, Memoirs of a Wolfman, mostly about the Spanish film industry and how mean they all were to him.

Plus, we'd all love to see a pic of Randall, as I (one of the fortunate) can safely say that no verbal description could ever do him justice.

Please also illuminate your comments last week re: DJ Kelly's butt. An anxious public awaits.

[Consumer K.]

Of course the obvious joke is better Terry's butt inhttp://www.penny-arcade.com/ your nose than your nose in her butt.

My mom is burning a candle for you this week.

I don't know, though, I never though of your nose as your defining characteristic.

[Rix]

Hi Bronwyn.
I read Cendrars Selected Writings (New Directions pb) long time ago & probably still have it in a box somewhere, it had poems & prose, recall enjoying it, an easy read. Poems were loose & fun. But the Literary School of the Self-mythologizing Frenchman has never interested me much. Americans are better liars.

XXX