Step right up

It's about relationships. It's about sex. It's about fetishes. It's about everyday people. It's about city life. It's about violence. It's about almost anything under the sun. That's what Jerzy Kosinski's National Book Award-winning work, Steps, is all about.

As I scan this slim fictional work, however, I realize that it's a challenge encapsulating the very feel of this book: sometimes hopeful, sometimes depressing, but never cloying. The stories are just a joy to read.

I bought Steps on a whim one weekend. I was early for an appointment and I didn't like the book that I had in my bag. For the life of me, I don't know the point of having a book I have no plans of reading in my bag. But anyway, there was I with an unwanted book.

When I bought it, I went to one of those trendy juice shops with their overpriced drinks. I plopped my fat ass in their comfy seats. And then I turned the first page of Steps. Several minutes later, I kept on looking at my watch, hoping that the person I'm meeting will run late. I didn't want to put the book down. I was on a stranglehold.

Don't you just love these little things—when the book you have no ideas about turns out to be one very satisfying read? And could it be true: that we're only 1 month into the new year and I've already found my best read for 2013? Maybe.

Steps is categorized as a novel. It didn't feel like it at times though, especially with the disconnected narratives found in the pages. But there seems to be a connecting thread to each story, as if Kosinski is weaving an intricate picture of humanity in its raw form. Some stories, like the one involving bestiality, may shock some readers. But it doesn't erase the fact that these scenarios can happen.

Kosinski's writing reminds me a lot of Hemingway; his sentences terse, and the paragraphs short. I love Papa Hemingway, so that's probably one of the reasons why I immediately became comfortable with Kosinski's writing. These gifted writers can say a lot in just a few words. And with the case of Steps, with its less than 200 pages, the writer spoke volumes.

Read this book if:

1. You'll read anything that's won the National Book Award.
2. You like writing that can range from poetic to visceral.
3. You love wonderfully freaky stuff.

Eeny meeny miny moe

I've a happy problem: I can't remember if I've ever read Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. I seldom reread, considering that there are still tons of unread books on my shelf.

I do remember reading The Brothers Karamazov on a whim back in high school. I recall that I surprisingly liked it. Back in high school, I went through a phase wherein I read most of an author's works if I enjoyed the 1st book of his that I read. This explains my extensive yellowing paperback collection of Stephen King, Agatha Christie, Jules Verne, and Clive Barker. Also, I must admit that I have Judith Krantz and Jackie Collins, too. Krantz and Collins are enjoyable on another level. Hihihihihi.

Anyway, I'll probably read/reread Crime and Punishment for the book club discussion sometime this year. The fact that I can't even remember reading it means that I just have to suck it up and just read the darn thing. I love me some Dostoevsky and it's been a while since I picked up one.

I did see a graphic novel of C&P at the bookstore and bought it on the spot. For a few minutes, I considered just reading this "lighter" version. When I say lighter, I mean just that: the graphic novel does weigh less.

Oh, there's one good thing about reading C&P now. Pevear and Volokhonsky, them husband and wife award-winning translators, did a new translation of this beloved work by Dostoevsky. I've read their translation of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina last year, and I must say that they did great work on it. (Yes, I actually compared a few versions just to check.)

Update:
I gave the graphic novel version to R. over the weekend. If I see it on my shelf, well, I just might choose the graphic novel instead of the full doorstop of a novel. Besides, if there's one person who understands graphic novels, it's R.

Happy 4th!

This blog celebrates its 4th anniversary tomorrow! Has it been really 1,461 days and 530 posts since I started KyusiReader? It doesn't feel like it. Honestly, it feels longer. I think of my reading life now as being divided into two main time periods: before and after the blog.

There are days though when I feel that I should just stop blogging and just read and read and read. It's nice to go offline every now and then, no? Then there are times when I just have to share my thoughts about what I'm reading, and that's when I make the posts.

I can still recall the circumstances of why I started blogging. I was bored to death. And since Blogger was a free service, I thought, why the heck not? I never thought for a second that other people would be interested to read about my boring musings about books and reading.

So happy anniversary to you, my beloved online repository of my random book-ish thoughts. And thank you, dear reader, for the wonderful 4 years. It's been one great blogging experience after another.

Wherein we discuss our best and worst reads for 2012

Last weekend, the book club members gathered once again for our annual discussion of our best and worst reads for 2012. It was a beautiful Saturday: the weather fine, the food sumptuous and plentiful, the conversation engaging, and the company perfect.

The best and worst discussion has always been interesting. It's like a show-and-tell activity, wherein we go around the group, asking each member to talk about his or her best and worst read for the past year. Yes, it's always interesting but never awkward, even though one's best read may turn out to be another's worst, which happened this year.

This year, 25 of us showed up for the discussion. And there were quite a few surprises. One, there were a few who picked Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game as their best. Another, a few gasps were heard when somebody mentioned Eat, Pray, Love as her best read. This somehow led to a lively conversation on how timing can be a big factor when choosing our favorite reads. We may be at a particular point in our lives when we find ourselves totally relating to a specific book and ultimately liking it.

Someone wrote all our best reads on a board. After everyone has had his or her turn, we were then asked to choose 3 books that interest us the most. These may be the books that we would want to read after hearing another person's thoughts about them. Results are shown below.

The winner, Tom Rachman's The Imperfectionists, got 9 votes. I read this one, and I agree! It's one darn good novel told in stories. My best read, Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles, was tied for 2nd with The Night Circus, which I've also read and enjoyed. My best read got 8 votes! Woot!

So now the book club has formally bid farewell to the wonderfully book-ish year of 2012. We're now all set for 2013! And this year, I'm co-moderating a discussion with R. We're tackling Stephen King's Night Shift in October.

And what was that book that most of us chose as our worst read? Well, the Fifty Shades trilogy! Sex sells, but apparently, Flippers weren't sold on the trilogy. One member did pick the trilogy as her best read though.

For a full listing of the best and worst reads of the book club, click here. And, as always, I'd like to thank R. for the awesome photos during the event.

Po-tay-to, po-tah-to

January is almost at an end, and so far, I've read a measly 4 books. It's been slow going for me in terms of reading lately. However, unlike most people, I'm not bothered by it, well, at least not yet.

I know I'll get the reading groove back, my reading mojo, my intoxicating paper cocktail. But don't get me wrong; I'm still reading though. In fact, I'm still on track for our read-along for Haruki Murakami's 1Q84. And just to challenge myself further, I made my first book purchase for the year: George Orwell's 1984. Perhaps I can find the connection between these two novels.

Of course, it would be futile to compare these 2 works, I think. It just so happened that one inspired the other. So right now, I'll be going to bed with these 2 books. I wonder which of the 2 will be the more satisfying companion in bed. Hihihihihi.

I am enjoying the slow reading life. I wouldn't want reading to be something I'd feel stressed about. If I don't feel like reading, then I won't force myself to open a book. I'd rather sleep. 

My other obsession

I can't get enough of paper. I need paper in a way that I need air and food. Come to think of it, I may have a paper fetish. Kinky!

So my other obsession, aside from books, also has something to do with paper. It's those gorgeous Moleskine notebooks.

As you can see, I'm partial to black. But this year, they came out with different colors for their planners. I did wish that they came out with an orange one. I would've loved that.

Now if only these notebooks weren't so pricey. If they were reasonably priced, I would use them for their actual purpose. As it is, I just write my name on the first page. That's about the only ink that will get on these pages.

Book > stage > movie

Yesterday, I finally saw the movie version of the musical based on Victor Hugo's novel Les Misérables. All I can say was that it was, ummm, good but a bit underwelming. (Now I have to hide from my friends who really, really love the movie. I fear for my safety.)

What I can remember from the movie are the extremely tight shots of the actors while they're singing. You can really see the snot from their noises while they're crying and singing at the same time. And yes, Amanda Seyfried (Cosette) has no pores whatsoever, and Eddie Redmayne (Marius) has 1,697 freckles.

Somehow, seeing the movie recently made me want to listen again to a recording of the musical. Finally, songs from people who can actually sing! 

And the movie did inspire me to look for my copy of Les Misérables, which I've read almost 20 years ago. I did find it, and I was aghast about its condition. Yellowing pages, foxing everywhere, silverfish feasting on its paper. It was almost crumbling when I handled it.

Anyway, I do remember enjoying this novel when I read it during one summer when I was still in college. It's very melodramatic though. And it's très depressing. Apparently, French people living during that time had no joie de vivre. You can't blame them though. You can smell the stink and taste the poverty and misfortune of these unfortunate characters.