The World is Cold (Mid-thoughts about Dune by Frank Herbert)
2024-04-01
“The world is cold,” is something an ex of mine once told me. I think of this often as I read Frank Herbert’s Dune.
I don’t expect warmth from the books that I read. In fact, I expect the opposite. I expect the characters to face the harsh, cold realities of the world. Would there even be a story without that element? With that said, I'm never surprised when I encounter a cold book.
Dune is cold. But in a different way. It almost feels mechanical in it’s coldness. If I were to put a hand to a character’s cheek, I would be surprised to feel blood rushing underneath their skin. Which is odd. Their personalities feel realistic. Alive. But there seems to be something missing. The only thing that comes to mind is that Dune seems to be missing a soul.
It’s not a problem of prose or wit. Herbert seems to be a skilled author. He certainly isn’t like a WattPad fanfic writer. He is able to write beautiful sentences. He is able to craft complex strategies. He knows when to insert a bit of character here and there. Just… Something feels lacking.
I feel like it’s a me problem. There’s a bit of mismatch in expectations. I haven’t read science fiction in quite a while. Honestly, the only sci-fi that I’m able to tolerate are ones by Ursula K. Le Guin and John Wyndham. And lately I’ve been reading a lot of the literary fiction. Currently I’m reading Crime and Punishment and I have had just finished To The Lighthouse. To say the least, Woolf is very different from Herbert. Currently, it is hard for my mind to switch to sci-fi mode.
Now, I’m not saying Dune isn’t literary. I don't think that's for me to decide. Literary is a nebulous concept and at times, a useless label. Like, Dune isn’t free from broader concepts. From my uneducated eyes, Dune seems to be a critique of the oil empires in the Middle East. There can be analysis to be had there. And I'm sure there are other themes in the book that I haven't picked up on as well. But it doesn’t seem to say much about the human condition. Yes, there are quips about fear and other things throughout the novel, but they feel too opaque to count.
Is Dune bad? Not at all. Other than feeling rather disconnected from the characters, I am enjoying my read so far. My motivation for reading Dune is less about discovery about humanity, but a desire to advance through the plot. The world building in Dune is excellent. It’s just the right amount of exposition without feeling like I’m being inundated with made up proper nouns. I also envy Herbert’s skill in political scheming (I commend all the the feint within a feint within a feint strategies the characters can come up with). The lore is, *chef's kiss*. Impeccable.
So yes. Dune is an interesting, clever, and cool read. It just might be a little too cool for my tastes. I’d like to feel a little more warmth, but I will stay along for the ride.
"I'm in love with this all" (Thoughts about To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf)
2024-03-31
I have a terrible tendency to see myself in characters. I think that is the point of reading books. Yes, an entertaining story is nice to read once in a while but the books that leave a lasting impact on me, are ones that uncover something in me. They are the books that clarify my opinions, validates a feeling or two, questions the root of my nature, and somehow shines a light into the deep crevasses of my soul.
In "To the Lighthouse," Woolf turns the concentrated light beam of the lighthouse and rotates it around the Ramsay family and their summer tenants. They are all very distinct characters but there's something in them that manages to reflect some of that light back to me. I definitely relate to some more than others. For example, one character that I related to quite a bit was, my favourite character, Lily Briscoe.
Lily Briscoe is arguably one of the most important characters in the cast. It is said that she is an avatar for Woolf herself, or her sister, Vanessa Bell. She brings two major themes to the novel: what it means to create and the tradeoffs of the domestic married life as Briscoe spends the novel painting and contemplating the dynamics between Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay. Briscoe hardly ever enters Mr. Ramsay's consciousness as it seems that he is incapable of ever thinking of anyone other than himself. His wife, on the other hand, contemplates Briscoe's single status. SHe constantly hopes for Briscoe to get married to one of the other tenants, William Bankes.
Briscoe does not imagine she could ever get married. In fact, at point in the novel she thinks, "she need not marry, thank Heaven: she need not undergo that degradation." But most of all, she could never get married to William Bankes. Firstly, Bankes is in love with Mrs. Ramsay. More importantly, he says that women cannot paint. It seems that other characters constantly pin onto Briscoe that they think she ought to become: not a painter, but a wife.
Despite her misgivings towards the married life, especially considering her conclusions about the Ramsay's marriage, she actually doesn't find the other half of the domestic life appalling. At first she says that she herself is in love with Mrs. Ramsay, like many of the other men in the novel. But she immediately discards that thought and replaces it with, "I'm in love with this all!" She thinks this while painting Mrs. Ramsay with her son, James. They make a pretty picture together and it touches Briscoe on some level. Maybe it is the ease that Mrs. Ramsay seems to settle into her role of a wife. She is attentive and giving. She gives and gives and it is in her nature to give. Whereas for Briscoe, she doesn't want to give in. She resists giving in to Mr. Ramsay at every opportunity she gets. She wonders at how Mrs. Ramsay could so easily charm people. It seems that Mrs. Ramsay represents the perfect picture of femininity, an ideal that Briscoe falls short of. Maybe Briscoe is in love with Mrs. Ramsay after all, or at the very least, longs for her maternal qualities that help build a calm picture of domesticity.
It is very obvious that Mrs. Ramsay is a stand in for Woolf's own mother. There is a sense of admiration for this mother figure but also a sense of repulsion for what she takes from the men in her life, Mr. Ramsay being the most obvious offender. I think it is an all too common pattern between mother and child. It's a pattern I see in my own relationship with my mother. It's funny how my own observations of the marriage of my parents has led to the conclusion that I would prefer not to get married. But it's also the sense that I could never step into the stereotypical, almost expected, role of wife and mother. I'm not doubting my own maternal instincts (I like to think I'm a good cat-mom to my cat-son) but it's everything else that comes with it.
Mrs. Ramsay is a dutiful wife, she is a charming hostess, she is clever enough to soothe her children in unexpected ways, she can hold the concerns of everyone in her mind and she has the desire to fulfill those concerns. These are qualities that Briscoe realizes that she lacks. They are qualities that I realize that I also lack.
That being said, I'm not so bleak as Briscoe. In the 1910's, gender roles were much more stringent upon women. What it means to be "wife" has changed a bit since then (although it seems like the concept of a "trad wife" is undergoing a resurgence in popular culture). However, in the context of my own non-White culture, some of those expectations remain. In the way that Briscoe rebels under these expectations by simply remaining single and a painter, I hope to one day either rebel through my independence or to find a partner who will respects a balance between give and take.
Hope for Laura
2024-03-22
After reading The Glass Menagerie for the first time, I felt violated. A part of me even felt anger. I had to read the play for my English AP class and it almost felt like my English teacher somehow saw into the depths of my soul and picked it, just for me, and revealed myself to the rest of the class. Of course, I don't think she actually picked this with that intention. Or, I hope she didn't.
But the reason for this anger was that I saw myself in the character Laura and sympathized with her so intensely. She was terribly shy, to the point of only interacting with her family. It didn't help that she was extremely coddled by her mother. Her mother is the complete opposite of Laura. She is loud, boisterous, and with big plans for her daughter. Laura wants a simple life. Her mother wants her to get married, and quickly. But the relentless pushiness of her mother was too much to bear. It mirrored my own relationship with my mother and that was what struck a nerve in me.
The most tragic thing is that, I read this play again over 10 years later, and I still feel the same way.
I still see myself in Laura. Clumsy attempts at relationships that should have never been made. Intensely shy. Lacking backbone. Too dependent on family.
On my second read, I felt the mother-daughter dynamic more intensely. I'm 29 years old and my mother is desperate for me to get married. It is so painful to see Laura's mother harping on her to meet men and then, contrasting it with her own life, how she herself had many suitors at her age. It is the exact same thing that my mother does to me. Whenever she talks about her youth like this, I can't help but feel deficient. Why can't I attract men like my own mother did? Why do I care so much but at the same time, don't care if I get married at all? Especially to a man? Why am I so sad that my ideal life does not align with what my mother thinks is best for me? I read these scenes with tears in my eyes and I'm getting misty eyed just thinking about it now.
Interestingly though, on this second read, I also saw myself in Tom, Laura's brother. I didn't identify with Tom at all when I read it over 10 years ago. I thought him too rebellious, too unkind and impatient with his mother. I understand him more now.
At the end of the play, he leaves his home, forever. The tragedy in this lies in his eternal guilt for leaving his family behind. I wish I had his guts to do the same, now.
Well, I actually did. Three years ago. I moved out against my parents wishes. It was a turbulent time. I felt immense guilt for the first month or so but I eventually learned to relish my newfound freedom. I kept minimal contact with them but every time that I did contact them, I felt guilt over not missing them. But then my father became ill. He needed to get heart surgery. Suddenly, the threat of mortality dug up the old feelings of guilt. I moved back in with my parents.
Our relationship is a little bit better now. But some patterns still repeat. It's the patterns that repeat and that are present in The Glass Menagerie that digs at my core. Most of all, it's the co-dependence that I feel with my parents whenever I am living with them.
I wish I didn't feel so tethered to my family. I wish I could do my own thing, away from them, without feeling guilt. In a lot of ways, I feel like a bird who failed to leave the nest.
It's a morbid thing to say, but a part of me feels like I will not be able to truly live the life I want until my parents die. Of course, I still love them too much that I don't want them to die. It's such a complicated relationship. It's like a ball and chain that keeps me rooted to the same spot. But I love my ball and chain and I don't want to part with it. The key is in my hand but I'm afraid to use it.
Library Loot #2: March 20 to March 26
2024-03-20
Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Claire from The Captive Reader and Sharlene from Real Life Reading that encourages bloggers to share the books they’ve checked out from the library.
Graphic Novels
Archival Quality by Ivy Noelle Weir
I like archives. The art looked cute. Hence, why I took this book out!
A Girl Called Echo (Volume 1) by Katherena Vermetter
I think I have read attempted to read this comic before. But I'm giving this another try!
The Magicians by Lilah Sturges
The art drew me in immediately. I really love this kind of realistic but not art style.
My Only Child by Ning Wang
Sentimental title? Check. Asian author? Check. Family trauma/drama/situation? Check. This seems to be right up my alley.
Pass Me By (Volume 2) by Kyle SImmers
I read the first volume of this series and it was rather heartbreaking. The story revolves around an elderly man facing dementia and has broken relationships with just about everyone he knows. I look forward to seeing how he progresses in the series.
Pizzeria Kamikaze by Edgar Keret
This book is oddly shaped. It's more wide than long. That caught my attention. And the synopsis on the back of the book was interesting as well.
Slumbering Beauty (Volume 1) by Yumi Unita
I didn't take out any manga so far in this list. Finally it makes it's presence. I'm not so optimistic about this one, looks like it relies on a lot of tropes, but I am willing to give it a shot.
Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall
The cover 100% caught my eye for this one! I didn't flip through the art or read the synopsis or anything but maybe I should have.
Prose
I usually limit my library book runs to graphic novels, purely because I don't have a lot of bandwidth to read anything else. But these books really caught my eye and I just had to read them.
The Berry Takes the Shape of the Bloom by andrea bennett
I don't read poetry. But I want to! I read a single poem from this anthology and took it out.
Ghosts Still Linger by Kat Cameron
I unabashedly judge books by their cover. I thought this cover was interesting. I don't think Western cowgirls when I think poetry. So I picked it up.
Washita by Patrick Lane
I have not heard of Patrick Lane before I attended a talk by his widower and read her poetry collection that was written after his death. It was a devastating but beautiful anthology. I felt it was right that I took a look at his work, too.
My Favourite Books of 2023
2024-02-16
Is it too late for this post? Hopefully not!
The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin
I read this book at the very beginning of the year. It was beautiful. Le Guin painted two very distinct worlds that both saddened, infuriated, and intrigued me. It also filled me with hope. I love pretty much everything Le Guin writes. Her imagination is boundless. She was able to concoct all of this with great precision. I think this one might be one of my favourites from her.
Beloved by Toni Morrison
This was my first Morrison book. I'm ashamed to say that I haven't heard of her until 2023. This was a haunting yet clever book. Morrison's prose was excellent. She really shines near the end of the book. Goosebumps.
The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams
I read this in high school and it devastated me because I saw myself in Laura. I read this again, over a decade later. It still devastated me and I still see myself in Laura. I am tearing up just thinking about it. This might warrant another blog post.
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Another devastating book. In my reading journal, I wrote "devastating but in an understated way." I love how effortlessly Woolf can write character studies like this. And I love her treatment of the passage of time.
On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden
If you love sci-fi, you'll love this graphic novel. I didn't know what I was getting into when I first started reading it. I fell in love fast. The worldbuilding is so concise but not in your face. The characters jump out at you, fully formed, and feeling so real. Walden's art style is perfect for this story. Perfect.
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Man, I do not remember The Picture of Dorian Gray being like this when I first read it in high school. I found Lord Henry to be such a prick but he was an interesting prick who said the most outlandish things. Dorian was an interesting character too but for entirely different reasons. I need to find the uncensored version and re-read it again!