#problematic books

September was a crazy-ass month. Lizzy kicked the bucket, Don't Worry Darling crashed and burned, and most important, I read a ton of movies.

1. All The Light We Cannot See

All The Light We Cannot see might just be my book of the year. As I already talked about this in a previous post, I'll make this quick. All The Light We Cannot See has been described, and rightfully so, as a modern classic. Its unique presentation of its story and masterful management of story threads that sew together Werner and Marie-Laure through their childhood years and the present have cemented it into its position as one of the best books of the 2010s.

Final Verdict: 9.5/10 - Absolute perfection

2. Never Let Me Go

The second book I read in September was Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. This is my third Ishiguro book, and I have to say - he is a brilliant author. The way he slowly draws you into the mystery of Hailsham, and how it's drip-fed to the reader what Hailsham's true purpose was for, despite the parallel storyline running in the modern day, it never gives away what they're doing, just that Kathy is a 'carer'.

I also went into the book blind, having no idea what it was about. I didn't read a synopsis, I didn't skim it, I just sat down and finished it in one sitting. Never Let Me Go is a masterclass in exposition and the flow of information to the audience. It treats the reader as if they too exist within the world of Never Let Me Go and it works incredibly well. The way it handles its themes, story and characters could not have come from anyone other than Kazuo Ishiguro.

Final Verdict: 8.5/10 - Read it blind!

3. Grand Hotel Europa

TW: Sexual assault

Then, I read Grand Hotel Europa, and it is a letdown. I bought it because it shares a similar title and seemed to share a similar story to one of my favorite Wes Anderson movies - The Grand Budapest Hotel. What I got instead was one pretty good metaphor about Europe, a useless, filler storyline that takes up 2/3rds of the book's material, and a really weird sex scene in which the author has with a 18 year old girl.

What you need to know about Grand Hotel Europa is that it is written as a true story, the author - Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer (one hell of a name) - presents the story as something that actually happened to him (down to the author's name and background). Sure, it's unique, but what makes it concerning is the aforementioned weird sex scene. The girl, Memphis, grew up in an abusive household where she was sexually assaulted. She was then adopted by rich parents and eventually ends up in the Grand Hotel Europa, the main setting and namesake of the book.

After they have sex, and Pfeijffer describes it in awkwardly high detail, she tells him to 'use her real name'. Even if this is fiction, it reads like some bizarre author self-insert fanfic, written as an excuse to jerk off, and somehow made it past rewriting, editing, publishing and translation. Outside of the Murakami-esque sex scenes, it isn't all that compelling. Like I said, the storyline about Clio and the lost Caravaggio painting is intensely boring. The only positive thing about this book is the book's namesake, the Grand Hotel Europa, which works pretty well as a metaphor for Europe in an ever-evolving world, and singlehandedly keeps this from being a 1/10.

Final Verdict: 4/10 - Murakami-esque, but without the good prose

4. Outline

Outline is the first novel in Rachel Cusk's Outline trilogy. I don't really have any strong feelings about it. Despite rave reviews, I don't feel like it says that much or wants to say that much, for that matter. Outline is an interesting, short-ish story about a woman who comes to Greece to teach a writing class, and in doing so meets several other people, who through conversation, are revealed. In the process, we also learn about the main character.

It is elegant and contains some great prose, but offers not much food for thought or discussion, not anything to write home about. Perhaps I need to read the next two books in the trilogy to understand it.

Final Verdict: 6.5/10 - Boring but not in the 'classical literature' way.

5. The Iliad

I also read The Iliad and it is a slog, but in an interesting way. The Iliad tells the story of the siege of Troy, one of the penultimate events during the Trojan War. It is also one of the oldest pieces of literature in the world that's still widely read, clocking in at around 2700 to 2800 years old. It moves like a giant, slow but immense in its proportions. Every chapter intensifies the stakes and every character is given their own motivations.

It's hard to talk about The Iliad without also talking about the censorship of Achilles and Patroclus' relationship. In my edition of the book, published in the 50s, they are referred to as 'companions', and to drive the point home, both take on trophy women. The translators are so insistent that both are straight that there are even addendums in parts where it's made explicitly clear that Achilles and Patroclus are fruity that say, in a nutshell: 'No homo, they're just the best of friends. Guy pals.' However, in modern depictions, most notably Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles, where Achilles and Patroclus' relationship is the main focus of the book, the story works remarkably better. Achilles turning to rage and accepting his fate after Patroclus dies works so much better when you know that they loved each other. It becomes even more of a tragedy than it already is.

The Iliad is an epic that has come to define classical literature, and will continue to stand as the quintessential epic. With themes of fate, love, time and hubris, it stands as one of humanity's greatest achievements.

oh good grief, it hit the NYT? how on earth is that series even still relevant anymore

fucking yikes, man

and here's a review of it