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Book Recs: Somewhat Uncomfortable for Various Reasons Edition
Friday, April 9th, 2010 02:32 pmMy reading list has been kind of all over the place recently, as is evidenced by the titles below:
Wolf's Gambit, by W.D. Gagliani: Some books I finish because I want to see the heroine and/or hero succeed. I finished this book because I wanted to see the unnamed villain get what he deserved, preferably slowly and painfully. (Hell, I wanted the sub-villain to get the same treatment.) I don't often say this, but death was too good for said villain. So imagine my revulsion when his death was tidy and (relatively) painless. This book had a lot of misogyny going on in it, despite a strong female lead, and I hoped that the villain's death would subvert the monster misogyny trope that was hard at work in the narrative. Alas, alas. Had I not been on the main characters' side, I probably wouldn't have finished this (it's a book group book.) I did appreciate that this book handily subverted the recent media stereo-trope of "werewolves are so damn sexy and HAWT and just guys who end up with their shirts off!".
I am starting to have issues with serial killer books. (Although not Dexter! I did wish he would show up and off the serial killer villain--he would have been easy prey for Dexter.) The violence isn't usually too graphic for my general emotional well-being, but it's starting to approach my squick level. But mostly, I feel leery of giving any of my mental energy to characters (or by extension, writers) who glorify utter disregard for their fellow human beings. There's so much stupid and violence in the world already, so why am I giving my time and attention to those who personify and revel in it?
When it comes to real life violence, though, the serial killer of Wolf's Gambit has nothing on the yakuza, as reported in Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan, by Jake Adelstein. Adelstein worked for The Daily Yomiuri, one of the largest newspapers in the entire country, and his beat was crime. To get the scoops for his stories, he groomed contacts in the local police force and within the yakuza community itself--although the second one is far dicier and involves getting to know some truly reprehensible and scary people. But the crux of the book lies in a revelatory scoop that Adelstein landed: several yakuza bosses were allowed to travel to the U.S., where they received new livers and were treated at UCLA by the best doctors in the country. These were men who'd ordered the deaths and torture of countless individuals, and whose organizations are involved in human sexual trafficking in Asia. Not surprisingly, Adelstein was outraged and pursued this story to its bitter conclusion, even as he risked his life to do so.
So, why give this book your attention when it's all about violence and the worst parts of human society? This is a deeply personal piece of writing, and Adelstein is unflinching about his own moral failings. He agonizes over the fate of colleagues and sources who risked their reputations/safety/lives to aid him in his quest for the truth. He is especially haunted by the disappearance of one woman, an Australian hostess, who swore she would get him information on one of the yakuza groups and subsequently vanished without a trace. He also reports on the Lucy Blackman case, a crime that figured prominently in the news while I lived there. (It was Adelstein who contacted Blackman's father to let him know that his daughter's body had been found.) Were it not for Adelstein's frank and honest discussion of his guilt over the consequences of his actions, this book would be a hollow true crime shell. Instead, it's a thriller with a heart and a brain, and it's left me shaken up in the best way. (One of the final acknowledgements reads: "[Thank you to] His Holiness the Dalai Lama, for some good advice. Apologies for asking that question on the plane, but I had to know.")
To temper the seriousness of the two titles above, I read a YA fantasy, The Magician of Hoad, by Margaret Mahy, who has long been one of my favorite authors. I broke my no-hardback moratorium to splurge on this with Xmas money a while back, but was initially disappointed at the slow pace of the action and the frankly goofy names of the characters. But I came back later and tried again, and slowly but surely, the plot took off, navigating its way through some dense exposition before getting to some interesting character development. The magic system was a little confusing and it was never quite clear to me what the main character could and could not do with his abilities, or what the cost of them was (because it sure seemed like something for nothing). But I liked following the characters from young adulthood to full-fledged adulthood, and the ending was very satisfying for all concerned. This is a book about children, but not really for them, well-written and careful in its developments. I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a "meaty" fantasy novel.
Wolf's Gambit, by W.D. Gagliani: Some books I finish because I want to see the heroine and/or hero succeed. I finished this book because I wanted to see the unnamed villain get what he deserved, preferably slowly and painfully. (Hell, I wanted the sub-villain to get the same treatment.) I don't often say this, but death was too good for said villain. So imagine my revulsion when his death was tidy and (relatively) painless. This book had a lot of misogyny going on in it, despite a strong female lead, and I hoped that the villain's death would subvert the monster misogyny trope that was hard at work in the narrative. Alas, alas. Had I not been on the main characters' side, I probably wouldn't have finished this (it's a book group book.) I did appreciate that this book handily subverted the recent media stereo-trope of "werewolves are so damn sexy and HAWT and just guys who end up with their shirts off!".
I am starting to have issues with serial killer books. (Although not Dexter! I did wish he would show up and off the serial killer villain--he would have been easy prey for Dexter.) The violence isn't usually too graphic for my general emotional well-being, but it's starting to approach my squick level. But mostly, I feel leery of giving any of my mental energy to characters (or by extension, writers) who glorify utter disregard for their fellow human beings. There's so much stupid and violence in the world already, so why am I giving my time and attention to those who personify and revel in it?
When it comes to real life violence, though, the serial killer of Wolf's Gambit has nothing on the yakuza, as reported in Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan, by Jake Adelstein. Adelstein worked for The Daily Yomiuri, one of the largest newspapers in the entire country, and his beat was crime. To get the scoops for his stories, he groomed contacts in the local police force and within the yakuza community itself--although the second one is far dicier and involves getting to know some truly reprehensible and scary people. But the crux of the book lies in a revelatory scoop that Adelstein landed: several yakuza bosses were allowed to travel to the U.S., where they received new livers and were treated at UCLA by the best doctors in the country. These were men who'd ordered the deaths and torture of countless individuals, and whose organizations are involved in human sexual trafficking in Asia. Not surprisingly, Adelstein was outraged and pursued this story to its bitter conclusion, even as he risked his life to do so.
So, why give this book your attention when it's all about violence and the worst parts of human society? This is a deeply personal piece of writing, and Adelstein is unflinching about his own moral failings. He agonizes over the fate of colleagues and sources who risked their reputations/safety/lives to aid him in his quest for the truth. He is especially haunted by the disappearance of one woman, an Australian hostess, who swore she would get him information on one of the yakuza groups and subsequently vanished without a trace. He also reports on the Lucy Blackman case, a crime that figured prominently in the news while I lived there. (It was Adelstein who contacted Blackman's father to let him know that his daughter's body had been found.) Were it not for Adelstein's frank and honest discussion of his guilt over the consequences of his actions, this book would be a hollow true crime shell. Instead, it's a thriller with a heart and a brain, and it's left me shaken up in the best way. (One of the final acknowledgements reads: "[Thank you to] His Holiness the Dalai Lama, for some good advice. Apologies for asking that question on the plane, but I had to know.")
To temper the seriousness of the two titles above, I read a YA fantasy, The Magician of Hoad, by Margaret Mahy, who has long been one of my favorite authors. I broke my no-hardback moratorium to splurge on this with Xmas money a while back, but was initially disappointed at the slow pace of the action and the frankly goofy names of the characters. But I came back later and tried again, and slowly but surely, the plot took off, navigating its way through some dense exposition before getting to some interesting character development. The magic system was a little confusing and it was never quite clear to me what the main character could and could not do with his abilities, or what the cost of them was (because it sure seemed like something for nothing). But I liked following the characters from young adulthood to full-fledged adulthood, and the ending was very satisfying for all concerned. This is a book about children, but not really for them, well-written and careful in its developments. I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a "meaty" fantasy novel.
