It’s the halfway point for the Mount TBR challenge – do you remember this? I flippantly resolved to read 24 of the books I had received from my grandfather before the year was over. Easy, I thought.
So far my total is 1.12 out of 24 {{1}} [[1]]I have, of course, read more than one book since the first of January, from Dirk Gently to the Madness Season, but as none of them have fulfilled the requirements of the TBR challenge they are worthless to me as a number[[1]]
I actually read the sole completed book back in April, during my beach weekend. Chaim Potok’s The Book of Lights. I first read Potok in college, where I had the opportunity of taking Jewish literature. We read The Chosen and I loved it. I gave it to my brother – you know the one, too smart for his own good and perfectly up to date with all the cultural things which I have mostly managed to duck. His response? “This book has such awful language!”
Another failed recommendation.
I remember not liking the sequel to Chosen as much as the original. Nor do I find this book good on a “reading a book” level. It is, of course, superbly well written. And I enjoyed it, yes, because seeing the world through a different pair of eyes is utterly fascinating. And these eyes were so different: a Jewish boy from a poorer section of New York during the 50s and 60s, going to Jewish Seminary even though he’s pretty deistic, eventually being forced into voluntary service in Korea as a military chaplain, and occasionally having the opportunity to vacation in Japan. The last was especially interesting since he visited places I have actually been, like Kyoto – probably my favorite city – and Hiroshima. I can easily believe I have seen the same “shell of a building, charred brownish stone, blasted windows, skeletal ribs of a dome.”
There were parts I found touching and parts I found beautiful, but Potok has written a character that is emotionally distant and that makes us, as readers, twice removed from all the events. It’s hard to be fond of or love any of the characters, though I do tend to like the character type that the protagonist represents. You know, hard working and silent. As for language that might offend my brother – there is some, mostly blasphemy, a few awkward moments, and one completely horrifying scene which you will need bleach to remove from your retinas. The latter naturally makes it hard to recommend this book to anyone else.
Like a lot of this kind of thoughtful, philosophical literature the obligatory romantic relationship is rather flat and irritating more than anything. Again, this is partly because the protagonist himself seems out of phase with everyone, including his girlfriend. Then too, the relationship is doomed to failure by the writing style. I tend not to get attached when the phrasing becomes too close to stream-of-conscious. Honestly, I also found the girl vaguely annoying – a common occurrence for me, which I’m sure is a character defect on my side and has nothing to do with the author or the girl in question. On the plus side, the relationship is distant in more ways than one. The main character spends half the book in Korea where, for quite natural reasons, his lady love is hardly mentioned.
There, that’s my review, or rather overview. I’m hoping to catch up on my reading list this month, as I take a break from TV. The free time that came with my unemployment in May led to a massive media overdose. Call it detox or call it penance, I’m looking forward to being able say I did something during June. Continuing with TBR, I’m reading Herman Wouk’s The Hope, which is also Jewish Historical Fiction, though more action-political since it focuses on Israel and the surrounding area during 1948 and onwards. Since Potok’s book actually took place during this same time period I can’t help feel like I’m doing a unit study, a feeling further reinforced when I consider the next text in my stack is a straight non-fiction book on the Kabbalah, the mystic Jewish texts which featured heavily in the Book of Lights. After that I will probably end my informal study with one of the few other Jewish religious works I was gifted. And then, who can say? I have plenty of books to choose from as I make my way to 24.