Shelf Life Book Reviews

For those of you wondering if I am still alive, the answer is a firm yes. My lack of updates can be wholly attributed to the chaos that surrounds a major life decision; in this case, it’s my husband and I deciding to move to China for a year (or three) that has deprived me of my usual updating schedule. By the way, we are still trying to figure out what this move will mean for Shelf Life, but there is a chance it will not be a regular part of our new life overseas.

Understandably, I’ve been reading a ton on the Middle Kingdom lately. I’ve read 3 travelogues on China recently, to the effect that they are all beginning to blend weirdly in my head. Rather than bore you with THREE accounts of the same, I will post just the review of the one I liked best, from favorite author J. Maarten Troost:

I  remember quite clearly one fine spring day in Arkansas, where I found myself negotiating a moving truck from a nearby UHaul distrubutor from the pleasant confines of a Barnes and Noble. With travel on my mind, I wandered over to travel essays, and found myself drawn to <i>Lost on Planet China: The Strange and True Story of One Man’s Attempt to Understand the World’s Most Mystifying Nation or How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid</i>. I had never heard of this J. Maarten Troost fellow, and I had no idea he had actually written two other uproariously funny travel essays. I did know that I had recently been in China, I was constantly surprised by how much I missed it, and that this Troost fellow absolutely <i>nailed</i> what it was like to be a passenger in China.

But being the completely bonkers type-A person that I am, I pulled myself away from Troost’s experiences in China and sought his books out in chronological order. Finally, FINALLY, I was able to finish this marvelous tome on what is truly, one of the weirdest, most complex nations today. And one that I will soon find myself living in.

By far the most entertaining of the many adventures-in-China books out there

Genre: nonfiction, travel

Plot: Troost and his wife, Sylvia, have had just about enough of American suburbia. But while she’s thinking Monterey would be a good alternative, he’s heard mysterious things about China and decides to embark on an extended trip there. He spends over  6 months (I think it’s closer to 8, actually, but he never says explicitly) traveling from one end to the other, seeking to understand this chaotic country. From frozen, psuedo-Russian Harbin to austere Lhasa, Troost makes an impressive tour for one little laowai on his own.

Structure:  Considerably longer than his previous books, Troost writes a whalloping 24 chapters telling of his adventures in chronological order. 

Execution:  I am still undecided as to which I liked better, The Sex Lives of Cannibals or this one. The former was much funnier, but the latter is definitely Troost’s best prose. He writes about some pretty unique experiences, like hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge, visiting Tibetan monestaries, and eating live squid; this I appreciated muchly, because I felt like not only had I traveled with him, I had gotten a feel for places in China that I will probably never experience personally (and isn’t that the goal of good travel writing?). I will probably never get to see the Great Wall, but now I know not to bother with the Traditional Medicine Clinic. This is advice you can probably get in other books, but not in such an entertaining fashion.

He’s still carrying the political writ he acquired in Getting Stoned with Savages, though, and that was a bit of a downer. Yes, I know, the government of China is hardly up for the Nobel prize, but his scathing commentary on both the Chinese and American political situation was often below the belt, and honestly, seemed like negativity for negativity’s sake. But still, I will forgive him because he seems like a very nice Dutch/Czech Canadian, and perhaps he can teach this native Texan something about being an American.

Theme: China (various cities), Tibet, Macau, Hong Kong, Chinese transportation, Chinese politics, the Chinese approach to the environment

Read this if you have been, or plan to, visit China anytime soon; you will learn many interesting things that will help you adjust in that too often startling land, or will smile and wistfully remember your time in there.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
The Sex Lives of Cannibals
Getting Stoned with Savages

If you liked this, you  might also like:
How to Cook a Dragon – Linda Furiya
Serve the People – Jen Liu-Lin
Fried Eggs with Chopsticks – Polly Evans
The Fortune Cookie Chronicals – Jennifer Lee

Today’s review wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for Pam of  Pam’s Perspective. Her glowing review for Andrew Davidson’s The Gargoyle sparked my interest right away, and when I found myself with time to spare at the library, that’s what I reached for. And after reading it in a record 4 days (it helped being sick all day one of those days), I think I owe her an enormous thank you.

Think 1001 Nights meets The Hunchback of Notre Dame, with a heavy dose of Inferno for good measure

Genre: fiction, novel

Plot: This remarkable books begins as the narrator plunges off the road in a terrible car accident that leaves him severely burned. As he endures the torments of burn recovery, his only thought is planning his elaborate suicide. Then he meets Marianne Engel, a sculptress who claims they were lovers in medieval Germany. Although he is skeptical, she enchants him with her tales of love and sacrifice from Finland to Japan, slowly  nursing his spirit back to health. The story doesn’t end there, though–as the narrator’s morphine addiction increases, Marianne is convinced she has a short time to live and devotes a frantic amount of energy into her carvings. Does the narrator have the strength to care for her, too?

Structure: Each of the chapters were of a hefty size, but they were seperated into much smaller vignettes. The story is told from the unnamed narrator’s perspective, intertwined with Marianne’s stories of their past life or of other doomed lovers around the world; the effect is addictive, as Davidson through Marianne tells the story of their medival past in chunks, always pausing just when the story reaches a crucial revelation.

Execution: This novel would have been remarkable for anyone, but for a debut it’s unbelievably impressive. The first 100 pages are intoxicating; the writing is brillantly witty and fascinating in the objective, but self-depricating, way of describing the more excruciating consequences of the narrator’s burns. When Marianne enters the picture, things become much less sarcastic and slow down, but still the pages nearly fly by as  the story spirals deeper and deeper. Davidson uses myth in an almost primitive way:  as a means of entertainment, yes, but also as an instrument of transformation. And the contrast between Marianne’s unshakable–if eccentric–faith and the narrator’s unfailing cynicism was a beautiful portrait of faith and reason falling in together.

Marianne, I think, is what really made the book sparkle. While the narrator’s transformation was moving, her personality was endearing. She was eccentric, yes, but not in an overly cliched way. In other words, this wasn’t Dharma from Dharma & Greg, or Phoebe from Friends. She was crazy in her own unique way, but sympathetically. Despite the narrator’s rational explanation that she is a manic-depressive schizophrenic, you can’t help but believe her stories and appreciate her devotion. And any writer who can create a character who we know is mentally unstable anad yet cause us to yearn for her purity, her goodness, her brightness of spirit has clearly found his craft.

Theme:  burn victims, medieval Germany, Dante’s Inferno

Read this if  you like unusual romances, or have a fetish for medieval architecture

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Hopefully Davidson will get back to work so I can add something here!

If you liked this, you  might also like:
Rana Dasgupta’s Tokyo Cancelled  (for the 1001 Nights aspect)
Sarah Dunant’s Sacred Hearts (f0r the parts that took place in a monastery)
Ali Shaw’s The Girl with the Glass Feet (for the unusual use of mythos)
Glen Duncan’s I, Lucifer (for the heavy-handed church imagery and the unrelenting wit)

Oh Lisa See. If I’ve ever come close to a destructive relationship with someone, it’s definitely you.  Your first book I devoured, and came back for seconds. Your second kept me hanging on, frustration after frustration, to ultimately disappoint in a huge way. But I still remembered the good times we had together, and so I couldn’t help but try your third. Sigh. I wanted so  much to like it, truly I did.

A good story of sisters immigrating to America, but lacked any satisfaction in the ending

Genre: fiction, historical

Plot: Pearl and May are two sisters, growing up in the “Paris of Asia” in the 1920s. They are young, rich, and beautiful, enjoying the high life of modern women. That is, of course, until their father bankrupts himself and is forced to marry them to his debtor’s sons, just as the Japanese begin their conquest. Forced to flee to San Francisco, they must learn to make a life with the strangers they have married, facing racial and economical hardships as they mourn for their former lives as “beautiful girls”.

Structure: Each of the chapters had a jaunty title such as “a piece of jade” or “one inch of gold”. They were strictly chronological, though toward the end the space between them lengthened considerably. The narration is from Pearl’s perspective.

Execution: Lisa See reminds me a little bit of what Patrick O’Brien would be if he set his heart on China instead of the British navy. In other words, they are both great on the nitty-gritty details that really count in historical fiction, but in my eyes, weak on the plot.

At first, the novel was very well executed. The plot was surprising, and you really felt emotionally compelled along with Pearl at each turn. What was especially well done—besides the historical accuracy and, as I always harp on, the use of native language-to-English ratio—was the relationship between Pearl and her sister May. This was a complicated one, and just as in the real world, they had ups and downs which were realistically portrayed.

Things got into a bit of a lull toward the middle, where everything seemed to be going just swimmingly for everyone involved. In the final pages, the plot picks up again at an almost frenetic pace as tragedy occurs and family secrets are spilled, sending a disillusioned daughter rushing off to Communist China. Her mother desperately scrapes up the money to follow her, determined to bring her back to the US safely. And…that’s where the story ends.

I felt like screaming. Did she get her back? Were they ever reconciled after the truth came out? But See obviously felt she had reached her goal or deadline or whatever and abruptly brought things to an end. This frustrated me more than I can adequately convey, and in reality soured my opinion of the novel much more than I had thought of it up until that point.

Theme:  Shanghai, San Francisco, Chinatown, Chinese-Americans, Chinese Immigration Exclusion Act, sisterhood

Read this if  you so love Chinese culture you’d read anything, anything about it.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Although I’ve read both Peony in Love and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan I would actually only recommend the latter.

If you liked this, you  might also like:
Ha Jin’s Waiting and A Good Fall
Alan Brennert’s Honolulu
Yoshiko Uchida’s Picture Bride