Monday, August 9, 2010

Tawni Kitaen'ed the crap out of that hood ...

My goodness. I don't remember anything that happened this past week. This is only acceptable in the hours between Friday night to early Saturday morning, in which case I was purposefully numbing my recall brain cells at the Spirit Valley Street Dance.

It was a delicious night complete with an 80s hair band tribute band that kicks it theatrical with wigs, explosions, and live snakes as they perform in the smooth styling of everything from Journey to Prince to Alice Cooper to Poison to AC/DC.

The whole thing made me wish I'd been just a smidge older during that golden era so that I could have Tawni Kitaen'ed the crap out of a hood while it was still en vogue. These days, it would probably be the sign of ill-breeding. I am, afterall, nearly 35.


Also, I spent the whole weekend reading comic books. This is totally nothing I've ever done before, but color me a convert. More on this later when I finish the Scott Pilgrim series and have time to wrangle all of my superlatives.

I didn't make any new foods. In fact, one night Chuck and I had Anchor burgers and beer, another night we ate out of a food cart, and another night we ordered pizza. My lack of creativity can be measured in caloric intake.

I didn't see any movies, either.

Which leaves us with just this. My favorite book of 2010 so far. My Top Ten list is coming along nicely at this point. Cracking it might be akin to getting into Harvard if the next four months are anything like the previous two. 

A Visit from the Goon Squadby Jennifer Egan:There is a scene in Jennifer Egan's novel, when an aged and plumped and be-cancer-ed rock and roll star named Bosco is pitching an idea to his publicist: He wants to tour again in support of his album “A to B.” A suicide tour. He doesn’t want to fade away, he tells her, he wants to flame away. A spectacle. An attraction. Everyone knows he is going to kick it, they just don’t know when or where. He wants interviews and videos and every humiliation documented.
“The album’s called ‘A to B,’ right?” Bosco said. “And that’s the question I want to hit straight on: how did I go from being a rock star to being a fat fuck no one cares about? Let’s not pretend it didn’t happen. . . .
Time’s a goon, right? Isn’t that the expression?”
Time is, in fact, the title goon of this novel full of short stories, a collection of pulse points in the lives of a full squad of players in the rock and roll scene. Each stars a character that is connected to another in a way that ranges from meaningful to fleeting. Then Egan upped the difficulty level: Each story can stand alone as a short story — and in some cases has actually been published elsewhere. And it isn’t told in chronological order.

Full review is here.
The Lovers: A Novel by Vendela Vida:  I made a rookie error and poor, poor Vendela Vida's novel "The Lovers" is the innocent victim.

It all started when I feel madly in love with Jennifer Egan's book "A Visit from the Goon Squad." I lovingly caressed the cover, made kissy faces at it, considered starting from scratch and rereading it immediately. I tried to think of a better book in all the world over, and failed. I sighed a lot. The music of REO Speedwagon finally made sense to me.

What I should have done: Chased it with something completely different from a different section of the bookstore. A food memoir, travel essays, or lousy vampire fiction.

What I did do: Chased it with Vida's book. Climbed right back into a piece of contemporary fiction. Stupid. STUPID.

The end result wasn't pretty. "The Lovers" is probably a better book than I think it is. 

Full review will be here.


Lynzie said...

I just started the Goon Squad. Darn, it is good. Have you read "Runaway:Stories" by Alice Munro?

Christa said...

I don't think I've ever read anything by Alice Munro. Maybe like a short story here or there in a compilation. Good?