2018 #7: Dark Matter (Crouch)

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

One of the joys of not being a scientist is that I can read a book like this without getting wrapped up in the reality of the science. Quantum physics as a field is something I can barely wrap my mind around, so I am not too concerned with plausibility when it comes to reading this kind of sci-fi. Besides, the take away here isn't really about the sci, or the fi, but instead the fact that we walk the earth as a million possibilities. We've all said "yes" or "no" at those forks in the road, and we live our lives, often in memory of the road not taken.

(Very mild abstract spoiler ahead....)

The narrative wore me down after a bit--I got tired of the multiverse, haha. However, just when I had no "ampules" left (that's about as much of a spoiler as I'll give), Crouch managed to reignite the story and illuminate his point. Sometimes we need to create a whole new world when our present one is too full of regrets and paths we did not choose.

2018 #6: A Discovery of Witches (Harkness)

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've never been a fan of vampires. Of all the occult/otherworldly creatures, those are typically the only ones that give me actual nightmares. But one of the true gifts of this book is that you tend to forget that the characters are witches, vampires, and daemons. Diana Bishop is a scholar (and a witch). Matthew Clairmont is a scientist (and a vampire). Harkness crafts each character with such care and attention that I could hardly put this book down. Anyone who has done archival work already knows of the innate magic to be found in touching pages of history, but this book should be particularly appealing to scholars who also enjoy fantasy fiction genres.

2018 #5: Sound and Score (deAssis/Brooks/Coessens, eds)

Sound & Score: Essays on Sound, Score and Notation by Paulo de Assis
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As with any anthology of essays, a particular reader will find some contributions more useful than others. Admittedly there were essays that I skimmed, as I was looking for specific writings that would interact with discussions for my graphic notation seminar. I appreciate the multitude of perspectives and styles, although I found the essays that were well-grounded in theory to be more useful. Both Virginia Anderson's "The Beginning of Happiness: Approaching Scores in Graphic and Text Notation" as well as Jeremy Cox's "What I Say and What I Do: The Role of Composers' own performances of their scores..." were particularly enlightening in their examination of score/performance relationships. Cox adapts Krenek's 1966 theory of process of musical thought to reveal a composer's performances as a "triangulation tool" (p. 21) between the score and Gestalt/musical thought. The only real quarrel I have with his investigation of Stravinsky's tempi in two different recordings (1946 and 1961) of the Symphony in Three Movements is that it is predicated on an assumption of "logic" when it comes to tempo choices--an assumption that isn't clearly delineated by the author.

Anne Douglas's "Drawing and the Score" is one of the strongest essays as she offers a succinct summary of the relationships that can be established when "an artist transposes concepts of drawing and notation across the borders of art forms" (p. 207). In just under ten pages, Douglas convincingly concludes that the tension between musical score and drawing is essential to all stages of the musical work, and in effect "loops" the components of a performed musical work "between author/audience." (p. 215).

The editing is good, for the most part, although there is a significant error in the captioning of Fig. 4 of Cox's essay (p. 24) and certain essays could have used a stronger editorial hand in order to keep expositional consistency. The book's division into four parts seemed somewhat unnecessary, particularly given the holistic interpretation that underscores the entire book. That said, the parts (I: Score and Idea; II: Mapping the Interface; III: Extending the Boundaries; IV: Choreographies of Sound) do provide interesting inroads to the larger discussion.

This is a very worthwhile collection and has readings that are provocative and useful for a whole host of different types of research and teaching, especially in contemporary music. Some essays are more accessible than others, but it is a valuable compendium for anyone who teaches composition, contemporary music performance, and/or music history.

(cross-posted at Musical Miscellaneous Mayhem)

2018 #4: The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party (A. McCall Smith) - No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency #12

The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party by Alexander McCall Smith
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

For a while I felt like the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series had jumped the proverbial shark. So after a several year hiatus, I decided to pick it back up again. The The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party seems to pick up the energy that was lost in the series, and keeps all the familiar joys: Grace Makutsi's relationship with her shoes, Mma Ramotswe's love for her little white van, etc. As he does in the earlier books in the series, Alexander McCall Smith manages to undergird his charming story with tougher questions about the secrets and assumptions that assail us every day. My only real criticism here is the title--the actual wedding itself is summed up in a couple of pages, so those hoping for an energetic description of Phuti and Grace's actual wedding will be disappointed.

2018 #3: Loon Lake (E.L. Doctorow)

Let me preface this with this: I LOVE E.L. Doctorow. Loved City of God. Loved Ragtime. Loved The Book of Daniel. So, ok...I didn't LOVE Homer & Langley, but at least I didn't finish the book thinking I had lost my facility to comprehend English.

I wish I could tell you I know what this book is about. There's a con-man/fugitive "protagonist" who is not at all likeable or even interestingly evil. There's a bizarre ladylove who dances in and out of self-respect every chapter or so. The most interesting character is a maid, who disappears from the narrative fairly early on. The depressed and eccentric poet holds promise, yet he also vanishes.

I get that this was an experiment. There are moments of that great Doctorow language that I treasure. But as a coherent book it fails. I totally understand that some people find this work a "stunning masterpiece" and "utterly compelling." Variety is definitely the spice of life, and I am probably the dry saltine of literature here, but this one really did not do it for me.

2018 #2: Citzen: An American Lyric (Rankine)

Citizen: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I don't think anything I write here will adequately convey the torrent of feelings and thoughts that are stirring inside me. This is art. This is truth. This is pain.

Rankine quotes James Baldwin: "The purpose of art...is to lay bare the questions hidden by the answers." (115) Indeed, this is an essay about answers. Answers fueled by imagination. And while that sounds grand and we usually consider imagination a positive trait, consider these three lines:

because white men can't
police their imagination
black people are dying

If that bothers you, don't read this book. No, on the other hand, read this book. Read about what it is to be invisible. To be unheard. It is an essaypoem on past, present, and future...understanding that the triumvirate we use to keep time manageable is really just a construct that fails to acknowledge our own responsibility to those three aspects of our existence.

"Memory is a tough place," Rankine writes. "You were there. If this is not the truth, it is also not a lie." (64)

Speaking truth to power is what Rankine does here. A colleague described this as a "quick read." It is not. It is a book that deserves deep attention to every word--not just the words themselves, but to see how Rankine has crafted her thoughts and bared them for all to see. This is an honest and important essay that casts our condition as citizens into high relief. It isn't pretty, but the song needs to be heard and the story needs to be told, until we all learn how to listen.

2018 #1: The Sympathizer (Viet Thanh Nguyen)

The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book will sit with me for a long time. As someone who studies the Cold War—that “experiment they call, with a straight face, the Cold War” (344)—I responded to this book both academically and personally.

Viet Thanh Nguyen’s nuance is masterful—his pro-antagonist, if you will, is one of the more interesting characterizations I’ve come across in recent literature. While there are brief moments of heavy-handedness, most of the book is filled with stunning language, vivid imagery, and beautifully-crafted moments of sardonic humor.

This is the hero’s journey with a twist. As Nguyen said recently at a talk at Radcliffe, revolutions often lead to disillusionment, but that doesn’t mean they fail and can’t continue (paraphrase). In some sense, Nguyen highlights the sense of the word “revolution” as it appears in physics and makes a compelling case that we are often our own axis for that revolution—something I think the main character comes to understand.

This is an important book to read for multiple reasons, but specifically to understand, at least in some way, the many angles of being a refugee. While a spy, the nameless narrator is also a refugee, and Nguyen peels back the multiple layers of that relationship.