2011 was a year of change for me: I finished my master’s degree in January, moved back to Maine in February, went back to waiting tables for a spell, and then ultimately landed a job teaching English and Spanish at a boarding school in Arizona. On September 5th, I moved to Rimrock, and since then, have met some incredible people, been amazed by the mind-staggeringly-beautiful atmosphere all around me, and even got to spend a few days with my dear friend Andrew LeTellier, whom I hadn’t seen in way too long.
But in between all that excitement and change, I have managed to read some interesting books. So here’s my roundup and discussion of the five most note-worthy tomes I've read in the last year, in no special order.
Tom Wolfe, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
Having long been a fan of the Beat Generation and the hippie movement, it is fascinating to see how one led to the other. Indisputably, Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters, driving around the country in their psychedelic Day-Glo school bus “Further” and indiscriminately handing out LSD to anyone willing, were the link between the two. Under the expert driving of Neil Cassady (who else?), the Pranksters were able to influence an entire generation of people seeking mind-expansion, peace, love, and art. Although the book is no easy-read—it’s not very linear, often opaque, and does require some background knowledge going into it—it offers an opportunity to experience one of the most volatile eras of recent history as it unfurls.
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
I’ve never read a book by a Japanese writer that didn’t take my breath away. Reading Murakami gives the same experience, but tenfold—Norwegian Wood is, hands down, one of the most remarkably stunning works of literature I’ve ever encountered. The book overflows with vivid character portrayal, unforgettable dialogue, sharp descriptions, and a touch of the angst resulting from the human condition with which we’re all familiar. It is more than the clichéd “coming-of-age” story it purports to be; it strikes me more as a cautionary tale about the dangers of human interaction and relationships. Yet simultaneously and paradoxically, it celebrates those same entities. Read it.
Mordecai Richler, Barney’s Version
This book piqued my interest for a few reasons. First of all, I’ve said endlessly already how much I admire Canadian literature and wish that my brethren in the US would give it the attention it deserves. Secondly, this novel won the Giller Prize, which (up until very recently) is traditionally a good indicator of an excellent piece of literature. And finally, it was written by a Montrealer and set in Montreal! So it was a pleasure to read if only because all Barney’s haunts are places I’ve been many times myself. But aside from that one very superficial reason to enjoy a book, I truly loved reading Barney’s Version; Barney Panofsky is pretentious, cranky, senile, and lovable. He has a sharp wit and a keen eye for comedy in any situation (including a situation where he may have murdered a close friend in a fit of rage after that friend slept with his wife, whom he’d wanted to divorce anyway . . .). The book, despite its fairly light-hearted, seemingly sardonic tone, carries a touching and poignant undertone that leaves a bittersweet taste in the reader’s mouth. Be warned, though, this is a heavy book—Richler/Panofsky (the two are hard to separate in this one) intentionally attempts to be dense, wordy, and pretentious, so it reads a bit like a conversation with a senior-citizen hipster.
Alan Watts, Tao: The Watercourse Way
I was recommended this book by a new friend from Flagstaff, so I made it a priority and found it full of information and wisdom. Watts is the seminal figure for the introduction of Eastern philosophy to the Western world, and this, his final book, does a great job of fully explaining why he devoted his life to this cause. His discussion of the Chinese language alone made it a fascinating read (particularly given my career choice!), but he also echoes many of my worldviews throughout. His topics range from aesthetics to role of government, and he gives a lively discussion based not on spirituality or metaphysics, but on ancient Chinese philosophical texts that, he argues, give all the information for how to live that one can possibly need. This is no true metaphysical text, but really one of common-sense advice for everyday life.
Ron Paul, The Revolution: A Manifesto
Yes, yes, I’ve spoken voluminously already about this man. As you already all know, I’m sure, I’ve been an avid Ron Paul supporter for the better part of a decade. I’m thrilled at how well he’s doing in the current campaign for presidency and at his bringing notions of liberty, freedom, peace, and prosperity back into the political realm for the twenty-first century. I read this book not really expecting to learn anything new, having been following Ron Paul for so long and seen virtually every interview or debate the man’s ever been in. How wrong I was! On top of having fluid, concise prose with an unmistakable voice, this book is a veritable cornucopia of wisdom. Argumentatively, it stands high upon an unshakable foundation of good sense, historical knowledge, economic understanding, and respect for the Constitution. Even if you think the man is a quack (but how could anyone realistically think that, unless all they know about him is what Bill O’Reilly has told them?), you would learn a lot about contemporary politics, economics, and overall US history by giving this book a quick perusal. Do it today.
