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Trying to write something — anything! — and failing miserably. I wrote an incoherent review of Infinite Jest last night for goodreads while drunk on four-dollar “red wine” (yes, actually what it was called; tasted horrible room temperature but actually not bad chilled) and that’s been it for weeks. Drunken incoherence or nothing. Woo woo woo.

Reading The Graveyard Book right now, and it’s just about as good as I had expected, which is Very. It’s true that I might only be saying that because of my gigantic girl boner for Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, but I do think there’s a legitimate amount of really awesome in this book.

The Graveyard Book moves away from Gaiman’s usual theme, too, which I like. His other works, especially his novels, generally follow Normal Man Gets Plunged Into Strange World, Must Cope plot structure. Not that there’s anything wrong with that – it makes for a very satisfying story. This one, however, seems to be more like Boy Grows Up In Strange World, Explores. It plunges the reader into the strange world instead of the main character, for whom these strange events and creatures are, if not commonplace, nothing to be particularly frightened of. Part of this is Gaiman’s faith in the ability of young children to cope with weird things (see: Coraline) but I think another part of this is that Nobody isn’t the stranger in the graveyard he’s growing up in, we are.

More coherency, less postmodernism once I actually finish the book. And maybe by then, my Eggers/Wallace/Chabon pomo-hat will have fallen off, and I will be less douchey about literature. Unlikely, though, since I have to read How We Are Hungry by Sunday or else I will accrue fines, and there is no one who promotes literary douchitude like Dave Eggers.

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2 comments
  1. Jakob said:

    Damn bro. You’re a really good writer and I had no idea you were such an avid reader, though I suppose I should have guessed. We could have been talking about Infinite Jest instead of recycled jokes about jerking it all that time.

    I used to hold some vague aversion to Eggers, but I was watching the National Book Awards the other day and the dude seems pretty chill. Plus I’ve always enjoyed McSweeney’s, so I don’t really know why I was such a hater or why he gets pegged for literary douchitude

  2. kat said:

    I make fun of Dave Eggers because he’s an easy target, and I feel very ambiguous about him. I’ve read one of his novels, and one of his books of short stories, and I know he’s good, but I don’t know if I like him or not.

    I’ve been reading like a fiend this fall, for lack of anything more productive to do. I should call you sometime (or vice versa) so we can talk books. I try with Meredith, but she hasn’t read any of the same books so mostly our conversations degenerate into the philosophy of post-modernist literature without the grounding context of the actual book. And I haven’t discussed Infinite Jest with anyone yet, because you’re the first other person I know who’s read it.

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