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Books: Summer Reads

What’s a summer read? Turns out it’s — a book. Screened gadgets give off an impossible glare and the ones that don’t can fall in water or get buried in sand. They’re just not made for the beach, the pool, the deck of a boat.

IMG_2730Books are.

Using a buoy for a cushion I read Kevin Kwan’s Crazy Rich Asians, an enjoyable tour of Singapore’s ultra-wealthy set. Yes, they are a frivolous bunch, and the story is forgettable, but I learned some things about that city’s rich history and matriarchal culture. A breezy read for foodies and fashionistas. (Thank you, Jennifer.)

Earlier, on dry land, I read Jonathan Miles’ Want Not. I admit to putting it down after the first (repellant) chapter, about New York City squatters who subsist on garbage. I’d loved Miles’ first book, Dear American Airlines — it seemed impossible he could write a bad book. So, I gave Want Not another try, and I’m glad I did. The story opens out to include a lonely linguistics professor and his dying father; also a wealthy debt collector and the suburban family he stitched together after 9/11.

wantnotI fell in love with every one of these characters, even the freegans. Yes, the book is overly long, but I didn’t mind — the three stories come together in surprising ways. Best of all, the ending is memorable, and deeply satisfying.

I am always hopeful. Stacey D’Erasmo’s Wonderland hooked me — about an aging rocker returned to the road — but petered out. Or as this reviewer put it, “fails to climax.”

Several friends recommended Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah, telling me that I would understand race in a new and different way. Maybe. This is an episodic read, often a rant, lacking in plot, 588 pages long. There are some

americanahmoving scenes, particularly when main character Ifemelu is first in the United States, a desperately poor college student. But over the course of the book Ifemelu is tiresome and full of herself; the young man she leaves behind in Nigeria is more sympathetic, and has a more interesting life arc.

Why read Americanah? Well, everyone else is…and the magnificent Lupita Nyong’o is a producer and star of the film.

Ah, summer. More to come.

Also in the blog

More travel, this time to New York to enjoy family and friends and to bury my mom in Northern New Jersey, beside my father. I’d been dreading the burial — another round of public grieving — but the day was unexpectedly joyous. I stayed on in New York to see family and friends, see art,

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Living in a city beside an inland sea, my morning walk sometimes yields trash, or an odd hello: a washed up, desiccated raccoon, its teeth bared. Dried vomit. Charging geese. Our harmless resident crazy, who mistakes me for Hillary Clinton, and asks after Bill. Why keep walking? Because there’s treasure to be found: a mother

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Merman sex? In the hands of Rachel Ingalls, yes yes yes. Mrs. Caliban is her 1983 (newly reissued) short novel about Dorothy, a sad suburban housewife who harbors and falls in love with Larry, a sea creature escaped from a nearby lab. Why so sad? The death of a young son, a miscarriage, an unfaithful

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