If I turned into a cockroach

I finished another story by Kafka recently—the one where the main character wakes up one day transformed as a cockroach, "The Metamorphosis." And can I just say that I loved the absurdity of it all. Like when you read The Idiot, you just swallow your disbelief and just run with it. Of all things that one can turn into, Kafka had to choose a cockroach, that vile insect that everyone seems afraid of. And my goodness let's not talk about the flying variety.

Now I'm not a person who's uncomfortable around insects. I love them arthropods—beetles, ants, termites, mantises, etc. Yes, some of these are pests, but as a Bio major, I know how important they are to the ecosystem. But cockroaches are another matter. I have always speculated what their roles are. Ah, one of the great mysteries of life. These critters should be annihilated. When we were in line at a temple in Bangkok, we saw a cockroach idly crawling near us. Of course, none of us dared to step on it because, you know, Buddhist respect for all life. I could imagine all the feelings of disgust and desire to scream and flee from the insect that they bottled inside. Of course, the bf and I were just amused. We come from a third world country; we literally sleep with these critters.

I have a weird affinity for spiders though. I can't bear to hurt these cute animals. When you meet a spider, keep in mind that it's probably more afraid of you than you are of it. And it'll probably sting only when provoked. Interestingly, this morning I saw a huge spider in the shower. Probably with a leg span as long as my hand. (BTW, I have huge hands.) So you can probably understand my dilemma. Should I risk it and take a shower? Or should I just splash water on my face and just put baby powder all over my sexy body? In the end though, I took a very quick shower (i.e., 2 minutes) at the farthest corner of the bathroom.

And crap, I have digressed in the two previous paragraphs. So let's go back to "Metamorphosis" and how I reveled in Gregor Samsa's transformation. Imagine waking up one morning being unable to immediately get out of bed because you've discovered that your body is now flat and you find it difficult to move your legs, all 6 of them. Then your family's, like, no biggie, we'll just lock you in your room and feed you every day. I find it ironic that Gregor would turn into a cockroach, that creature which seem to serve no purpose at all (except to make white people squirm). Prior to this metamorphosis, Gregor was the breadwinner in his family, earning enough not just for his family's day-to-day but also to pay his parents' debts. But you couldn't do that anymore if you're a cockroach, no?

Eventually, his family's tolerance to his new form reaches a tipping point—they can no longer stand having him in their house. At one point, in a hysterical set piece, his father was trying to step on him while Gregor was scurrying around the walls and the floor of the room. "Metamorphosis" is a sad story of a man caught in a surreal circumstance. Kafka doesn't even bother to explain this transformation. And why would he? It's the utter in-your-face absurdity that makes the story. 

Why read The Old Man and the Sea

Ah, Papa Hemingway. I just love your sparse sentences. Sometimes, I try out your writing style. Just the subject, followed by a short predicate. It reads like crap though. Like the sentences in this paragraph. Such a total waste of virtual real estate. So I bow down before you, Papa Hemingway. You make it seem so easy.

My first Ernest Hemingway read was A Farewell to Arms. That book made me an instant fan. I reread a few pages of it last month, as the book club's theme for May was all about Ernest Hemingway: his works and a bio. Then I realized that some of the lines spoken by the main characters are just so insufferable. I gag, but in a good way.

Here's a rather simpler way to show this to you, dear reader. Man asks, "Do you love me?" Woman responds, "No." Man asks again, "Do you love me?" Woman responds again, "No." Man asks for the third time, "Do you love me?" Woman finally admits, "Yes." To which the man says, "I like your hair." Argh!

The book club's swag during the discussion
I wonder if Papa H would approve of all these.
Somehow, I imagine him thinking, "Great. More stuff I don't need."

But I'm not here to talk about A Farewell to Arms. I love that book too much to talk badly about it. What I want to discuss is a much shorter work of Hemingway, which is The Old Man and the Sea. I'm not too sure how to categorize it—is it a novel, a short story (that's gone too long), or a novella? Let's just call this a novella. I love that I suddenly became all gung-ho and just decided that for you, dear reader.

Anyway, The Old Man and the Sea is the perfect book to read if you haven't read any of Hemingway's works. It's short, which will make you instantly decide if you like his writing style or not. It's also what I would like to call a gateway novel. It connects Hemingway's older works with his later fictions. It won the Pulitzer Prize, and I think it just might be the work that tipped the Nobel committee to award him the Nobel Prize for literature.

Wasn't Papa Hemingway a hottie? I get palpitations looking at this.
He served as an ambulance driver during  World War I.
Well, he can take me to the hospital anytime. 

I am partial to Hemingway's earlier works though. The Sun Also Rises and A Farewell to Arms are just brilliant. His later novels were hits and misses. The novel that preceded The Old Man and the Sea was very much lambasted by critics; it prompted Hemingway to write something that he said will be his best work. I don't think The Old Man and the Sea is his best though. But a lot of people from the book club liked it, which is good enough for me.

I don't think the novella is about man versus nature; it's more of a man-versus-himself kind of thing. The old man and the marlin that he has caught and held on for a few days are like mirror images. Only a great man can catch a formidable inhabitant of the sea. And having caught the marlin, the old man proved that he still had it in him. He still got his mojo. He rocks.

What I didn't get in the novella are all those religious references pertaining to the old man. He was supposed to represent Christ. He got wounds on his hands which some people compared to, ummmm, the stigmata. And when he finally went home after having spent several days in the sea holding on to that marlin, he collapsed in his bed in a position similar to Christ being nailed on the cross. Whatever. But the novella did make me crave for sushi. Mmmmm. . . Having fresh sushi—now that's a religious experience.

Oh, and this is the first official book club discussion that I attended this year. There's just been too much work. And I had to keep R. company, as the past few months were a very difficult period for him. Well, it definitely felt good to be back, and what better time than a discussion on one of my favorite authors.

R. (right) and I (left), after the book club discussion
Yes, we both wear reading glasses now.
No, we are not hipsters.

We also got the chance to read any biographical work on Ernest Hemingway. I didn't finish mine though. But thank goodness for Wikipedia, yes? From what I read of Papa Hemingway's life, he certainly did lead a very interesting one. War veteran at 19, married 4 strong women, lived in 4 continents, struggled with depression, took his own life. Compared to his, my life seems very much uneventful. But looking at what happened to Hemingway during his twilight years, I realized that uneventful is good.

I opted to read A. E. Hotchner's classic memoir of the time
he spent with Ernest Hemingway. It's a heartbreaking read.

I is for Irving

Totally unexpected, this one. I know all about the big screen adaptation by Tim Burton, but that movie takes a liberal shot at Washington Irving's novella, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Liberal, like 50%. When I think about it, all the movie had in common with Irving's material is the Headless Horseman and Ichabod Crane. And Burton just borrows the name of the latter. Because when you break it down, Johnny Depp's character doesn't share any similarities with the Ichabod Crane that Irving writes about.

All right, so we have Ichabod Crane, who is not a member of the judiciary but is merely a humble schoolteacher. So humble, so insecure, and so clumsy. And he's not really the hero of the story as it will turn out. By the end of the story, Ichabod Crane is just one more casualty. Was he a victim of the Headless Horseman? Or was he just an unfortunate character who's fallen prey to a prank by Brom Bones. Brom and Ichabod are both wooing the town beauty, Katrina Van Tassel. It's really not made clear though if Katrina has directly denied Ichabod her hand. All we know is that at the end of the party, Ichabod leaves with very low spirits.

What caught me off guard was how humorous the story can be. Somehow, we feel that Irving is making light of the people of Sleepy Hollow. He loves them, make no mistake. But it's as if he's inviting the reader to see that these are people who tell creepy stories to amuse themselves. I'm amused as well. I'm amused at the brilliant way that Irving shows us how a town's beliefs, its superstitions, can influence the lives of the locals. And that despite these superstitions, they make do.

It's no wonder that Irving's stories have stood the test of time. These are the kind of stories that you tell each other at the campfire. These are the stories that you share to your friends to creep them out. While the Headless Horseman doesn't really appear till the end of the story, there's a sense of pervading gloom right from page 1 of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. By the end of the story, if you're not creeped out by what happens to Ichabod Crane, then at least it will give you pause to think whether the Headless Horseman is real or not.

Read this book if:

1. You love short creepy stories.
2. You've seen the movie, and now it's time to read the book.
3. Headless Horseman! Headless Horseman! Is there really any other reason for reading this?

Novellas by Collins (part one)

I can't get enough of Collins's works lately, and what better way to get my Collins fix than by reading his shorter works. Collins's novellas still have his trademark narrative -- the pervasive atmosphere of dread and malice and a touch of elegant mystery elements. If you haven't read Collins yet, dear reader, then I suggest you check out these three novellas.

Oxford World's Classics collected three of Collins's most famous novellas -- Miss or Mrs?, The Haunted Hotel, and Guilty River. Miss or Mrs? and Guilty River can be read in one sitting, as each averages 100 pages long. The longest, The Haunted Hotel, runs for 160.

Miss or Mrs? is a fast-paced novella. It puts all our contemporary thrillers to shame. Collins combines the elements of fraud, murder, secret marriage, and blackmail to create 80 pages of one wonderful narrative. Marriage is a major theme especially in Collins's later works, and in Miss or Mrs?, marriage again plays a prominent role. In England during the mid-1800s, marriage was one way of obtaining a respectable income and we see how the novella's villain, Richard Turlington, hopes to pay off his business debts by marrying into a well-to-do family.

The Haunted Hotel is a very atmospheric read. It seems like a ghost story at first, but the reader is really in for a surprise. If you've read The Moonstone, which many people consider as the first detective novel, you know what I mean. The novella is very eerie and it's episodes of hauntings in the Venetian hotel are indeed hair-raising. Again, murder figures prominently in this work, with the scene of the murder (a room in the hotel) serving as the setting for all those mysterious ghostly apparitions.

I still haven't finished Guilty River though. But I just wanted to immediately share how I had a fantastic time (again) reading Collins. Now I know why he was the most popular novelist during his time. At one point, he even surpassed his good friend Charles Dickens in book sales.

Read these novellas if:

1. You want to sample Collins's wonderful works.
2. You're craving for well-written thrillers.
3. You can't get enough of sensational fiction.

Three satisfying novellas

I've enjoyed Michel Faber's two previous novels, The Crimson Petal and the White and Under the Skin, immensely. The Crimson Petal and the White is one of the most unforgettable novels set in Victorian England with a prostitute named Sugar as the main character. It's a lengthy read at more than 700 pages, but the effort is well worth it. It's funny and touching at the same time. Under the Skin is just plain creepy. You have the read it for that Twilight Zone-esque ending. After reading these novels, I've become a huge fan of Michel Faber, the author who was born in the Netherlands, grew up in Australia, and now lives in the Scottish Highlands. He's not a prolific writer though, with his novels being spaced several years from one another.

When I saw Faber's collection of novellas, The Courage Consort, in a bookstore, I just knew I had to buy it. The book, which consists of three novellas, is a very short read. I even finished half of it on my way home, since it takes me around 1 to 1.5 hours to get from my office to my house (2 hours if the traffic is really bad).

The title novella, "The Courage Consort," is probably the best of the three. It focuses on the sexual tension among the five members of a British a cappella vocal ensemble. It's probably the finest novella I've read ever. The second one, "The Hundred and Ninety-nine Steps" involves an archeological dig and a murder that happened several years ago. In the third and final novella, "The Fahrenheit Twins," Faber retells the classic fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel.

There's a characteristic common to all the three novellas though, one that you'll come to expect if you've read Faber's previous works, and that is the element of unpredictability. In "The Courage Consort," several things go wrong as the members rehearse a very complicated vocal piece -- the Partitum Mutante. The murder mystery in "The Hundred and Ninety-nine Steps" is never fully resolved. The children in "The Fahrenheit Twins" have mixed feelings as they find their way back home.