Bookshelf of the Month
August 2018
When finished enjoying a book, I often give it to someone else, either to a friend with a similar interest or as donation at Green Door Books (where most books are $1). I only hold onto books I might want to read or reference again. This is why my shelf might seem small. Each book matters more than it does in a more expansive one; selections are more intentional, and less likely mercurial.
If you’re interested in competing in The 2018 Reading Challenge, check out Goodreads.
This August, at the beginning of this new semester, I’d like to share with you my one-of-a-kind bookshelf. If you like this monthly feature and are interested in sharing your own unique bookshelf on Get Lit, send us an email or leave a comment below.
In pursuit of Secondary Education, and then English, I’ve tackled my share of textbooks, but have since gotten rid of most of them because they were heavy, boring, and/or otherwise tiresome to move. I’ve kept the greats though, such as the insightful guide, The English Teacher’s Companion (1999), and various literature anthologies marked to hell with the strange existential quandaries of my early 20's. I also held onto Understanding English Grammar (2011), with its carefully rendered sentence diagrams filling in the margins. Studying grammar has taught me much about writing by creatively building sentences, really fascinating stuff.
Above that are quite a few Stephen King novels. While he undoubtedly has his flaws (such as using hetero-normative and sexist language), King was the first author whose fictional worlds inspired me to create my own stories. His books were my first adult fictions, and they felt grown up to me at a young age. There will always be a place in my heart for his silly, scary, off-the-wall fiction, as well as his pensive and often deranged characters. My favorite King novel is Pet Sematary (1983), the story of a cemetery built on sacred ground, from which dead pets (and humans?) are resurrected.
Despite my unabashed love for King, I also appreciate gender studies. Two of my favorites here are Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde (a collection of critical essays on race, gender, and social identity, 1984), and Gender Outlaw (an open, frank, and humor-filled account of Kate Bornstein’s transition to womanhood, 1994). Also noteworthy is my professor, Dr. Anne Balay’s book, Steel Closets (2014), in which she interviews LGBTQ steel workers, recording their once hidden stories.
Another passion of mine is Japanese fiction, with its eloquent passages of quiet brooding and natural imagery. Two of my favorite authors are Haruki Murakami and Yukio Mishima. Murakami expands upon topics of introspection, running (and other physical exertion), falling in love, and listening to music. His work includes Norwegian Wood (1987), a story of tragic romance coupled with the sound of The Beatles’ Rubber Soul (1965). In contrast, Mishima writes with distrust for Western culture and a deep desire to preserve what he feels is innately Japanese (a sentiment expressed by famous Japanese authors before him, such as Jun’ichirō Tanizaki). Mishima’s works include Spring Snow (1968), the first part of four, a story of reincarnation and a privileged boyhood during the 1920’s. Unfortunately, Mishima’s work is often overlooked because of the man he became. Near the end of his life, Mishima’s views became quite radical, and as a result of his ideological rejection, he committed seppuku, or the ritual suicide of the samarai by disembowelment. While this was once considered a noble death for a defeated swordsman, seppuku is no longer honored by many modern Japanese people. Accordingly, Mishima is viewed as a zealot of a lost era. Despite his radical views, the inner-personal depth of his writing is often jarring with a tactless, yet liberating lack of restriction to social norms.
I picked up Harry Potter 5 and 7 on the nights they were released. The rest of the HP books I once had in paperback, and since have been lent to students. I‘m a fan of the series, but not crazed, mostly getting involved because friends really liked it. However, my appreciation for Professor Snape is sincere.
I ordinarily get my comics, series such as Saga or Inuyashiki, from the library now since the serials are expensive and only take an hour or less to read. However, I used to buy one Shonen Jump with every fast food paycheck as a teen, and I hold onto my serial copies of Naruto, Bleach, and Osamu Tezuka’s Black Jack out of a vague sentimental value.
Bonus Shelves
To Read/Currently Reading
I’ve been reading and rereading Joyce’s Dubliners off and on for a year now, always finding something new each time. I’ve just finished The Overstory, a Thoreau-inspired fiction about the resilient, silent intelligence of trees. It’s strangely uplifting, the notion that despite most selfish intentions, humans might not have the resources to survive the annihilation they have caused (but might the trees?).
James Baldwin’s Just Above My Head was recommended from a friend and 1Q84 is one of the only Murakami books I haven’t read. I had the opportunity to meet Colson Whitehead at The Art Institute in Chicago with a group of fellow English students from PNW, where he discussed his 2017 Pulitzer Prize winning novel, The Underground Railroad. I look forward to reading it, yet I feel intimidated by the complexity of Zone One, another Whitehead novel I read last year. I picked up Asimov’s Foundation and its sequel for some lighter reading during the fall.
Lit Journals, Zines, and Chapbooks
I still don’t have that many zines (and a few were lost in my last move), but I have about a dozen copies of Spirits, a journal that is close to my heart because I worked on it as an editor for three years. Also a few books and chapbooks by my friends, such as Gabrielle Frigo’s Praxis. Finally, a few other interesting oddities, such as The Lurker (a silly, slightly gross local zine) and Mythos (a monthly local collaboration zine).
