SFCBR Thumbnail

SFCBR Thumbnail
Fiction (4 full): God's Gym (John Wideman; reviewed by Reagan Upshaw); The White Rose (Jean Korelitz; reviewed by Anthony Giardina); Winners (Eric B. Martin; reviewed by David Moisl); Beautiful Inez (Bart Schneider; reviewed by Meagan Harlan).
Non-fiction (5 full): February House (Sherrill Tippins; reviewed by Brenn Jones); Committed (Edited by Chris Knutsen and David Kuhn; reviewed by Heller McAlpin); The Great Mortality (John Kelly; reviewed by Chuck Leddy); Born Losers (Scott A. Sandage; reviewed by Maria Fish); The Orientalist (Tom Reiss; reviewed by Jesse Berrett)
Poetry (1 full): Ashes for Breakfast (Durs Grünbein; reviewed by David Hellman)

The Good

Overall, this week’s SFCBR was mostly middling; only two things provoked much of a response, but at least both of my strong responses were positive.

David Hoffman’s review of Ashes for Breakfast, a career-summing collection from Eastern German poet Durs Grübein, is one of the better pieces I’ve recently read in a Sunday review. Hellman starts out by making a case that poems can capture a transcendent present on paper and thereby reach across cultures and eons to remain vital to whoever reads them. This is why it’s important to discover new poets, says Hellman, and in that spirit he reviews Grübein‘s collection. He put Grübein in his context—Eastern German born in 1962, grew up during a cycle of reunification (his major theme)—and then shows how this context informs his poetry. Hellman sketches Grübein’s career, remarks on a few notable works, and even evaluates Michael Hoffman’s translation, all in roughly 1,000 words. It’s a very nice piece.

The other strong reaction was provoked by the review of Tom Reiss’s The Orientlist, a biography of Lev Nussimbaum, aka Essay Bey. Bey was born in Azerbijan in 1905, and became a journalist who wrote a classic work of fiction (Ali and Nino, a “cross-cultural romance set just before the Russian Revolution” which was lost and rediscovered in 1970 and lost again, and re-rediscovered in 2000). he also crossed paths with Nabokov, Hesse, Stalin, Einstein, Freud, and Pound, among others, before dying in 1942. Jessee Berrett’s review informs makes the book sound like just the thing for the curious, as it’s full of great anecdotes and footnotes that “turn you on to 10 things to read next.” I can offer this review high praise: Going in I was prepared to skim, by the end I wanted to read the book. 

Another notable review is Reagan Upshaw’s review of John Wideman’s short story collection God’s Gym (a book I’ve been following these last few weeks). Upshaw gives some context on Wideman’s career before delving into a few of the stories. It’s a fairly good review, although it seems that just the thing that bothers Upshaw interests me: Through it all, Wideman is always present, naggingly visible to the reader.” I admit that this can be done wrong, but it can also be done quite well, as in the case of Gilbert Sorrentino. i suppose I’ll have to read the book and see for myself.

Lastly, Chuck Leddy does a pretty good job reviewing The Great Mortality. The book's about the Black Plague and Leddy gives me what I want: disgusting details (rats, which carried the disease, could jump 3 feet from a standstill and could climb sheer walls), and a good idea of how the book deals with the plague.

The Bad 

As I remarked earlier, there wasn’t anything that I totally hated, but there were some pieces that should have been better. Brenn Jones’s review of Sherrill Tippins’s February House seemed like it wanted to do too much with too little room. The book is about several artists who shared a house in the early 1940s (yes, reality TV comparisons are rightly made). Apparently, the book brims with liaisons and competing egos, and it seems that Jones tries to include most of them, but it just ends up feeling like Jones is spreading himself too thin. Also, the review is mostly written in short, declarative sentences that make it feel choppy, like a telegram. I would have preferred some discussion as to why an entire book should be written about these artists’ communal home and how well Tippins succeeds in bringing out their essence and that of their relationships.

I also must wonder why Committed was stuck up on the front page. It’s a collection of essays in which several prominent male writers (David Sedaris, Rick Moody, and Jay McInerney are among them) discuss their commitment to their partner. The review is pretty pedestrian--several short summaries of several of the pieces. The subject matter sounds pretty fluffy, and my major problem with the review is that it doesn’t tell me why I should care about the book. What does it matter to me that Chip Brown was woken from REM sleep to put self-tanning lotion on his wife? Why do I need to know how Rick Moody felt when he finally got married after 10 years with his girlfriend? I suppose that Sedaris’s piece could have value as a comedic work, but the fact remains that most of the other writers presented in this collection are not known for writing short essays about their personal life. Why then, should I read short essays about their personal life? Is this book comedy? Relationship advice? The review does not acknowledge the substantial question of “Why do I care?” And also, why give this book billing on the front page? Because it’s published by Bloomsbury?

Etc 

I guess the weather page is a rotating thing because it’s back there on B6. Well, for those who care, California has a “ridge of high pressure” that will “remain strong for the next several days, bringing unseasonably warm and dry weather to much of the state.” Daytime temperatures in Napa this week will range between 61 and 78 and Squaw Valley will have 28 of 34 ski lifts open. Also, “the ancient Egyptians used Sirius (known to them as Sothis) to predict the Nile flood.”

I hope someone found that useful.

Also, Chronicle columnist David Lazarus ran down 3 noir fictions. Hard-boiled mystery books aren't really my thing, but Lazarus did a good enough job with his column, and if you're interested in that genre, you'll probably like the piece.

Grade

Overall this was a small step backward. A couple of good reviews could not prop up what were mostly pretty so-so pieces that gave me no reasons to care about books that, going in, I was largely uninterested in. Most of the reviews performed the basic functions, but not much more. C

Comments

[Jesse Berrett]

Hey, thanks. He really does have a ton of stuff in there about, say, George Grosz's autobiography, that it never even occurred to me to want to read. A little thin on Ali & Nino, I suppose, which is a great book, but maybe Reiss presumes we can find that on our own.