#CBR8 Review #12

A Happy Death by Albert Camus

For months now, I’ve been meaning to read all the books on my bookshelf that I’ve never read before. And for months, I’ve been distracted by the pretty new shiny books at the library. But now, it’s time. I’ve cleared out my library loans, and I have a clean slate (apart from an audiobook, but that’s for my commute). I received Albert Camus’s A Happy Death for my college graduation from my dear friend D, who majored in English, Math, and French (she’s crazy smart like that) and is getting her PhD in Math. I decided it was finally time to read the book.

I read The Stranger probably 7-8 years ago, but I don’t remember a whole lot about it. According to the good people of Goodreads, A Happy Death was written first but remained unpublished for a long time and should be considered sort of the origin point for The Stranger. The plot is fairly simple, but seems straightforward: a man kills his lover’s former lover (who has suffered greatly as a cripple), escapes punishment, and then seeks out meaning and a happy death. But is it possible to find a happy death?

This is an intensely psychological novel, and sometimes, it’s hard to understand the plot or the direction the novel is heading. But Camus deliberately avoids plot-heavy stories, I’ve learned. This is about the workings of the mind and how you represent it in text. I’m glad I read this novel, almost seven years after graduating college, even if I’m not entirely sure I got everything I was supposed to out of this novel.

#CBR8 Review #11

Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

When I was a little kid, I greatly enjoyed the Disney Peter Pan adaptation. I was extremely weirded out by the Mary Martin live action adaptation, but that was many years before I understood and appreciated androgyny. Last year, Christopher Walken slept-walked through a spectularly boring live-action Peter Pan starring Allison Williams. It was awful, but it led to one of the Fug Girls’ finest hours, a liveblog with more cowbell. That said, I’d never read the book until now. As it turns out, I wasn’t missing out.

Peter Pan is the world’s shittiest child. I could pretty much sum up the book in that sentence, but there’s so much more than that. In fact, I am sure if Sigmund Freud had read it, he would have clapped his hands in glee, and said, “To the couch!” because there are so many unresolved father issues in this book. We have Wendy Darling who does not want to grow up and finds herself forced into motherhood and child bride-dom. Then there are the Lost Boys who are captured by Peter Pan and whisked away to Neverland (when you think about Michael Jackson naming his ranch Neverland…ick). We won’t discuss the racist as f**k cultural references. And then Captain Hook, who always plays Mr. Darling in like every movie adaptation ever. It’s so…unsettling. And Freudian. I have forgiven it exactly one time:

And even then, Jason Isaacs, it’s only because I love YOU SO MUCH PLEASE COME BACK TO AMERICAN TV I MISS AWAKE SO MUCH IT HURTS.

Ahem.

Is Peter Pan worth the read? Um, maybe, if you feel the need to read classic children’s books and then wonder what the hell J.M. Barrie was smoking when he wrote it. Or, if you like works that encapsulate repressed Victorian sexuality. Otherwise, skip it. And don’t bother rewatching the Disney cartoon. It’s embarrassingly racist.

#CBR8 Review #10

Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay

When Bad Feminist first came out, it made the rounds amongst my grad student feminist friends, who all raved about it. I’d never read anything by Roxane Gay until her magical review of Magic Mike XXL (one of my favorite movies last summer), and I LOVED IT. Read it for yourself if you need evidence that you would enjoy Roxane Gay. You will. She’s amazing, and her writerly voice is so unique.

Bad Feminist has a fairly simple premise, but it reveals the complicated nature around feminism. Gay calls herself a “bad feminist,” which is a way to acknowledge the very human nature around feminism, especially for people who have bashed it for not being perfect. There are essays on Gay herself, many pop culture phenomena, and the nature of activism regarding people of color. That part was very informative and sobering. Gay’s discussion of pop culture in relation to her history is fascinating, and at times, absolutely crushing. I remember sitting in my mechanic’s waiting room while my car’s oil got changed, reading her essay on The Hunger Games and her personal trauma, wanting desperately to cry. I remember cheering her scathing indictment of The Help, because, good lord, I couldn’t even finish that book in my blind rage. And I very much disagreed with her on Orange Is The New Black (the show). But that’s okay, because we’re all different.

While this is not as hilarious as people have billed it to be, it’s still very good. Gay is an excellent writer with a terrific turn-of-phrase, and an energetic engagement with pop culture. I need to read her novel now.