Fifty Shades

No, I did not drink the cool-aid, but this book (the trilogy) has electrified women across the country, who have spread the word like gospel on Facebook pages, at school functions and in spin classes. It sets the women in my office abuzz (I’m the only man in the office). My interns pore over it as soon as they are on break. At lunch in the pantry conversation would nudge to the terrain of this book. I heard buzz about how unbelievable the story is but at the same time it is addictive. Like for many of the bestsellers, my curiosity of Fifty Shades of Grey limits to pretty much what the blurb conveys. I have no desire to peruse it. Fifty Shades of Grey and the two other titles in the series were written by a British author named E L James, a former television executive who began the trilogy by posting fan fiction online. The books, which were released in the last year, center on the lives (and affection for whips, chains and handcuffs) of Christian Grey, a rich, handsome tycoon, and Anastasia Steele, an innocent college student, who enter into a dominant-submissive relationship.

My interns confirm that the people (themselves included) who are reading this are not only people who read romance. It’s gone much broader than that. It’s flat erotica—graphic, heavy-breathing erotica. Online reviewers have criticized the author for her plodding prose. Some even go as far as calling the novel written by a teenager. Even my boss read it but she concluded that if you take out the parts where the female character is blushing or chewing her lips, the book will be down to about 50 pages. Almost on every single page, there is a whole section devoted to her blushing, chewing her lips or wondering “gosh” about something or another. I think the book will only get bigger in terms of its success. What I found fascinating is that there are all these motivated, smart, educated women saying this was the greatest thing they’ve ever read for a long time. The last great hype I read was The Devil Wears Prada, and i read it after I saw the movie with Meryl Streep. Soft porn or no, I do have to give the author the credit, for she has written something that gales up a storm of discussion all over since Pride and Prejudice.

Show Your Books Love

Books deserve respect. Handling library books with care is a civil responsibility. It irks me whenever I see people tug books off the shelf by the upper lip of their binding, which is the number one cause of broken spines in hardbacks, I want to scream at them. Library should educate the public by posting signs with hints on handling books. Repairing a book with broken/loose spine is just as costly as replacing it—if the book is still in print. To minimize the risk of damage, try this: Push in the books on each side of the volume you want, then pull it out by grasping both sides of its spine. You’ll also know where to return it. Look for the two books that are pushed out of place.

Inside a book from the Paris haul, I found a slip inserted in a turn-of-the-century volume that reminds reader of the proper etiquette in handling a book. It bears a thoughtful message:

From Modern Bookbinding:
Hold the book with its back on a smooth or covered table; let the front board down, then the other, holding the leaves in one hand while you open a few leaves at the back, then a few at the front, and so on, alternately opening back and front, gently pressing open the sections till you reach the center of the volume. Do this two or three times and you will obtain the best results. Open the volume violently or carelessly in any one place and you will likely break the back and cause a start in the leaves. Never force the back of the book.

and a funny anecdote:

“A connoisseur many years ago, an excellent customer of mine, who thought he knew perfectly how to handle books, came into my office when I had an expensive binding just brought from the bindery ready to be sent home; he, before my dyes, took hold of the volume and tightly holding the leaves in each hand, instead of allowing them free play, violently opened it in the center and exclaimed: ‘How beautifully your bindings open!’ I almost fainted. He had broken the back of the volume and it had to be rebound.”

Are We at War with England Now?

Have you read this article about judge withdrawing over Philip Roth’s International Booker win? I find it outrageous. Author and publisher Carmen Callil, whom I have previously never heard of, withdrew from the judge panel over its decision to honor the American author.

The matter turned ugly and scandalous following these comments of Ms. Callil. “I don’t rate him as a writer at all. I made it clear that I wouldn’t have put him on the longlist, so I was amazed when he stayed there. He was the only one I didn’t admire – all the others were fine,” said Callil, who will explain why she believes Roth is not a worthy winner in an outspoken column in the Guardian Review on Saturday 21 May.

It’s verbal assault. Callil sounds very parochial to me. She simply doesn’t like what Philip Roth writes about. Although not every novel by Roth is great, he’s a competent and brilliant author. I can’t judge a judge on her artistic or creative opinions–for opinions are what they are, subjective. Callil has every right to find Philip Roth’s novels terrible. But I do object, very strongly, to a rather naive and simplistic remark she made about his work: ‘he goes on and on and on about the same subject in almost every single book.’ Since when was a writer returning to the same subject deemed a bad thing? Think Toni Morrison. I have to categorize this post under “madness.”

Black(eye) Friday

It’s that Friday morning. You wake up at the alarm’s piercing of silence, still full from the turkey, stuffing, and pies from the meal. Kids are still fast asleep. Husband snoring. Biscuit the dog winks inquiringly: Why getting up so early for? It’s the holiday. No work, but you have to be in line for Black Friday at the bookstore. On top of the storewide discounts, the first lucky 5 shoppers will be automatically qualified for a 60-second sweep of the store. Grab as many as books as he/she can grab in a minute’s time. Plus there will be a complimentary gift of Zhu Zhu Hamster Pets.

That of course is just my wishful thinking. The bookstore sweep only takes place in my dream! It’s that time of the year again folks. The time where we forget we belong to civil society and quite happily cross over to the dark side. The time where we become greed’s little minions and embrace our bizarre behavior wholeheartedly. I can’t help wondering whether the worst of humanity that Black Friday madness brings about will ever manifest at the bookstore. Will shoppers knock each other off just to grab Oprah’s latest book club selection? I doubt it.

My black Friday would be one of peace, quiet, and solitude. Many hours of the holiday will be devoted to reading, maintaining a safe distance from the noise, the brawls, the stampede, and shopping mania that descend the malls.

Speechless

Like Edward Kennedy? Try a Porn Star…, originally uploaded by moleskineboy.

Cleaving, or Clenching?

I cannot believe what I saw at the bookstore: Julie Powell’s new book Cleaving. Riding on the success (?), at least not in my book, of Julie and Julia, the book talks about how her marriage was challenged by an insane, irresistible love affair, and how she decides to leave town and immerse herself in a new obsession: butchery.

Quoting an Amazon reviewer: So disappointing, after the brilliant first book, in which we readers revelled in the brilliantly depicted marriage relationship as much or more than the cooking, cubicle-dwelling, and blogging, to have to slog through this painful recitation of selfishness, skanky adultery, and flowering alcoholism. If you loved Julie and Julia, skip this one, and preserve your pleasant memories.

For the benefit of my curiosity, I picked it up and took a peek. Seriously, how can you resist the secondary title: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession? Within my expectation, it’s no more than some fluff with forced writing and forced story. She believes that butchery is what will save her from her being unhinged and, not to mention, adulterous. What’s even better is she will be live reading this book in San Francisco, at Books Inc! (Note I categorize this post under “Madness.”)

Facebook is not a Book, a Matt’s Musing

In case you don’t know, Facebook is the most popular “book” but it’s not a book.

Long-time local independent bookstore Stacey’s is closing at the end of this month. Today Chronicle’s editorial cartoonist Greg Russell does a piece that is just so spot on about how popular culture can really take over our life and time, if not altogether supersede literary and artsy activities. I am not a member of Facebook (maintaining this blog is a hand full, and I rather devote my time sharing thoughts on reading than social-networking), nor am I against Facebook. Facebook has become an indispensable channel to find old friends, schedule events, play games and even send virtual gifts. But if people are doing more living online than off, it might be time to reassess.

As I was giggling at the comic that satirizes the heated response of Facebook users to the modification of policy, which entitles Facebook to own rights to users’ content indefinitely, three German guys from across the coffee shop raved about how Facebook made hooking up with guys easier. The expression on their faces made you think that Facebook is the best thing after the discovery of orgasm. About half an hour later, this other guy frantically typed on his Blackberry—he was texting onto his Facebook account.

Facebook has this twitter-like feature that allows you to update instantaneously of what you’re doing. ‘I’m feeding my cat.’ ‘I’m hitting the grocery store.’ ‘I’m running out of clean underwear.’ Trivial snippets. Stay connected with friends, so they say. But who needs to know all of that? Notifications, messages and invites reward users with an unpredictable high, much like gambling, if not drugs. That anticipation can get dangerously addictive. I saw people missing their stop because they were rapt in facebooking.

I have students who admit that they spend hours on Facebook, leaving very little time for homework and study. I cannot help and wonder whether Facebook has taken the backseat of real relationship. What kills normal human interaction? I think we have simply become lazy. It’s easier to put up an away message that will let people know if you’ve had a bad day. Whether Facebook hurts interpersonal relationships or not is not for me to discuss, but I do think we’re more than equipped to stay connected without it.

I did not want to believe it or not to believe it. I just did not want to think about it. I did not want to see how all the people connected, if they connected, if there was a pattern or if there was no pattern at all. The Spy Game, Georgina Harding, pp.189

Belated Amazon Overhaul

Amazon just announces its overhaul of the review system which reshuffles the reviewer ranking. For those who are not familiar with it, reviewing is a “competitive sport” as Literary License has duly put. I used to submit book reviews to Amazon before A Guy’s Moleskine Notebook came into reality in 2006. I was then a Top 500 Reviewer who was active in the reviewer community. While many of the reviews were sincere and ethical, I noticed some who were cheating the system in order to climb up the rank by stuffing the ballot box (you can vote whether a review is helpful or not and Amazon tallies the votes) through multiple accounts. What infuriated me is that Amazon never made an effort to regulate the voting system and ensure quality of the reviews. Amazon failed to recognize that review helpfulness should play a larger part in determining rank. The result was a handful of reviewers who wrote thousands of fluffy, crappy reviews that customers didn’t find helpful. A few of the reviewers who had stranglehold on the top review spots would submit five or six reviews per day. Their reviews didn’t possess any semblance of their reading the books! Others are just repetition of the blurb or the publisher’s synopsis. While Amazon turned a blind eye to these inappropriate and unethical activities, the editorial team decided to act as some moral guardian to censor my reviews on the subject of homosexuality. They eliminated words like “homosexual” and “homosexual behavior” in my text and replaced them with “. . .” After bouts of disputing e-mails with the editorial team I decided to pull out of Amazon completely and took my reviews elsewhere. I should be grateful for the Amazon fallout or I will never launch this book blog, which targets more effectively at readers and book lovers.

Twist of a Mishap

My hope that the last day of summer session would be shorter and uneventful is completely ruined by an unexpected incident. After the last meeting of Freshman Composition yesterday I stopped by the coffee shop to get some caffeine and planned to work on the grades. I put my messenger bag down and set up my office at the usual table–the one against the back wall along the window to the sidewalk. Barista called out my au lait and I walked over to the counter to retrieve it. In just a matter of seconds, no more than half a minute, as if no sooner have I walked away from the table did someone, a predator on valuable belongings, has taken my Timbuk bag and run. Flummoxed and shocked, I tried to make sense of what happened. Obviously a theft has been committed by someone who has been prowling around for an opportunity of an unattended belonging. Diminution of my dismay was preserved by the forlorn thought that the bag would not be retrieved. Along with it went my prized Moleskine journal, in which all my thoughts and reflections on books were written, since fall 2006. I was resolved not to be consoled, at least for a while, until I saw my friend whom I was to meet but had no way to reaching since my cellphone was in the stolen bag. By a stroke of luck I had turned in my laptop at the repair service to update the memory. Other than a copy of Sense and Sensibility, which has been waiting in my bag to be read after Anna Karenina, my Moleskine journal, a few writing instruments, post-its, and hand-lotion, the bag has no valuables. Without my cellphone and laptop, I felt completely out of the radar. But the story only gets better, when I got home I had a message on the machine from the coffee shop saying someone has turned in a bag that matched my description. How lucky can I be?

*I have to defer my full review of Anna Karenina to the weekend as I have yet to pick up the journal.

*Update on Lost Bag (Aug 15 2:45pm) I picked up my bag, which turned up at the coffee shop shortly after I took off yesterday. Everything is exactly where it was. The girl at Peet’s said someone returned it and said he had taken it by mistake. Whatever the real reason might be, I’m just happy–happy to get my Moleskine journal full of writings back. Don’t ever leave your belongings unattended even for 2 seconds!

Oddly Enough

 

After I checked in online for my return flight with Cathay Pacific, I saw some disturbing news about 8 mice being found on a jetliner en route from Washington D.C. to Beijing.

The United States, concerned about tainted imports from China, has exported its own batch of potentially harmful goods to Beijing in the form of mice on a flight from Washington. How odd can this be?

Chinese inspectors found eight mice, dead and alive, aboard United flight 897. They were found inside a pillow in the passenger cabin. The report prompted an emergency crew to rush into the aircraft, placed rat poison and mouse traps at every possible corner of the Boeing 747.

While China has been rocked by a number of quality scandals involving food, toys and drugs in recent months, this incident illustrates problems concerning substandard products could befall anyone. I find this very odd and raise a few suspicious points:

1. Where exactly were the mice found? How did the mice manage to stay inside a pillow during a 16-hour long-haul flight?

2. If the incident is proven to be a mischief, how did the passenger bypass security check with these creatures?

3. If this is not a mischief, then United should seriously confront its substandard hygiene problems. Rats on board could spread a dozen of fatal viruses. Not to mention contamination of food and water sources.

I can’t help but think of some of the questions that have ruffled my mind. How often are the seats and the cabin cleaned? Is there enough time in between layover to sterilize the aircraft and specially the lavatories? How clean are the blankets?