Bookhunt
I watched with glee as The Elephant Vanishes vanished for good down the book return chute. No more shrieking while perched atop toilet bowls, no more head-banging on the MRT handgrips, no more sudden proclamations of death and destruction.
And then I walked into the library looking for more Murakami.
Why I bother with his novels and short stories is still beyond me. (The only difference between a Murakami novel and a Murakami short story is the intensity of pain felt at the end.) Maybe it’s the way the plot draws me in, like an unsuspecting rat, right to the arsenic (after which I often roll over and wish I was dead). Or could it be the way he brings out each excruciating detail in the phenomenon that is puppy love? Or maybe it’s sheer wackiness? Nothing appeals to a reader more than a good reality-bashing. All I’m sure of is that I could do with more.
No luck this time though. I’d read everything they had. Bleah. No Norwegian Wood again.
So I went in search of 1984. Once again, zilch. Is this book banned or something? I did, however, get my hands on his first novel, Burmese Days. Not sure what to expect but I suppose anything by Orwell will be good.
Browsing through a library’s collection, other than the library at Orchard, is often a wonderful experience. Sure, there’re disappointments, but, more often than not, they’re made up for with serendipitous discoveries such as Yann Martel’s The Life of Pi which I chanced upon while unsuccessfully trying to seek out Groucho Marx.
The Life of Pi, by the way, is a novel about a boy who is stranded on a lifeboat in the Pacific with a hyena, a zebra, an orang-utan and a Bengal tiger. Apparently, this book will also “make you believe in God”. Now how can that not be interesting?
Next book to go in my bag - Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I have no idea what this is about. I just borrowed it because I read The Virgin Suicides also by Eugenides. Anyone who has read this story will know that it is one heck of a painful experience. Not in the same way that Murakami’s novels leave you frustrated and dissatisfied, but in the sense that the inevitable is… well… inevitable. The Lisbon sisters are doomed. One by one they will each find wonderful ways to snuff out their already quivering flames. The synopsis makes that much clear and the first few pages plunge you straightaway into (or at least what looks like) a suicide. I have seen many a fellow commuter clutching this book on the train, lips furled, brows knit, just straining to avoid the next death.
Why didn’t the sisters realise there was a whole world out there, away from that dank home, away from the clutches of their parents’ myopic sentiments? Why didn’t anyone try to save them? Why didn’t anyone notice? It just drives me crazy. Hopefully Middlesex will be on a somewhat more cheerful note. Hopefully.
Any new recommendations would be most welcome. I'm running out of authors to explore.
And then I walked into the library looking for more Murakami.
Why I bother with his novels and short stories is still beyond me. (The only difference between a Murakami novel and a Murakami short story is the intensity of pain felt at the end.) Maybe it’s the way the plot draws me in, like an unsuspecting rat, right to the arsenic (after which I often roll over and wish I was dead). Or could it be the way he brings out each excruciating detail in the phenomenon that is puppy love? Or maybe it’s sheer wackiness? Nothing appeals to a reader more than a good reality-bashing. All I’m sure of is that I could do with more.
No luck this time though. I’d read everything they had. Bleah. No Norwegian Wood again.
So I went in search of 1984. Once again, zilch. Is this book banned or something? I did, however, get my hands on his first novel, Burmese Days. Not sure what to expect but I suppose anything by Orwell will be good.
Browsing through a library’s collection, other than the library at Orchard, is often a wonderful experience. Sure, there’re disappointments, but, more often than not, they’re made up for with serendipitous discoveries such as Yann Martel’s The Life of Pi which I chanced upon while unsuccessfully trying to seek out Groucho Marx.
The Life of Pi, by the way, is a novel about a boy who is stranded on a lifeboat in the Pacific with a hyena, a zebra, an orang-utan and a Bengal tiger. Apparently, this book will also “make you believe in God”. Now how can that not be interesting?
Next book to go in my bag - Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I have no idea what this is about. I just borrowed it because I read The Virgin Suicides also by Eugenides. Anyone who has read this story will know that it is one heck of a painful experience. Not in the same way that Murakami’s novels leave you frustrated and dissatisfied, but in the sense that the inevitable is… well… inevitable. The Lisbon sisters are doomed. One by one they will each find wonderful ways to snuff out their already quivering flames. The synopsis makes that much clear and the first few pages plunge you straightaway into (or at least what looks like) a suicide. I have seen many a fellow commuter clutching this book on the train, lips furled, brows knit, just straining to avoid the next death.
Why didn’t the sisters realise there was a whole world out there, away from that dank home, away from the clutches of their parents’ myopic sentiments? Why didn’t anyone try to save them? Why didn’t anyone notice? It just drives me crazy. Hopefully Middlesex will be on a somewhat more cheerful note. Hopefully.
Any new recommendations would be most welcome. I'm running out of authors to explore.
1 Comments:
Yeah I will. Thanks.
I've read some Arthur C. Clarke but sci-fi doesn't really work for me. Maybe Asimov would do better. Looking for something slightly quirky. Something like John Irving or Murakami if you know what I mean.
Post a Comment
<< Home