An Odyssey by Daniel Mendelsohn

An Odyssey: A Father, a Son, and an Epic is:

  • An analysis of Homer’s The Odyssey through a seminar that Daniel Mendelsohn held for college students which was attended by Mendelsohn’s father.
  • A comparison and contrast of Mendelsohn’s relationship with The Odyssey as a student reading it and as a professor teaching it.
  • A portrait of Mendelsohn’s relationship with his father.

It seems like a huge pill to swallow but the narrative flows with no difficulty among the three modes. I haven’t read The Odyssey itself. I admit that I don’t have the guts to tackle such Greek classics but I’m quite familiar with the basics of it. Readers who haven’t read it yet will not be alienated because the seminar part of the book introduces you to one of the greatest heroes in the world of literature, Odysseus.

After the seminar, the author and his father, Jay Mendelsohn, both go on a cruise ship that traces the places Odysseus went to as stated in The Odyssey. During this cruise ship, we see the relationship between the father and the son somewhat grow as the son discovers things about his father through stories from the past that are unearthed for the first time. It somehow parallels the narratives of Telemachus, Odysseus’s son, and Odysseus himself, except that the cruise ship never made it to Ithaca, which makes a point about journeys versus destinations. Which is more important? I always thought that the journey is more important, but after hearing out the father’s take on the matter, he convinced me that both are equally important. Yes, you will learn a lot from the experiences that you gain from journeying, but is a journey even possible without having a destination? If so, what is the point of the journey then? Also, wouldn’t reaching a destination give yourself a boost?

The main contention here is whether Odysseus is a hero or not. After finishing the book, I’m still stumped. A part of me says that he is a hero. Odysseus, after all, managed to come through the challenges thrown at him and lived to tell the tale. The other part of me says that he is not because I feel that he didn’t have noble causes to support his deeds. Is going home to be with his wife Penelope noble enough? Most likely yes. Is sleeping with other women a noble deed? Most likely no. So to be able to answer the question, one must be able to define what a hero is. Either Mendelsohn was not able to actually define what a hero is, at least in literature, or he was not able to convince me with his definition.

I may not have been compelled by Odysseus but Mendelsohn’s father kept me going on. I like how he is portrayed: a scathingly brilliant mystery. He is mostly bereft of physical and verbal affections but he is caring enough to attend to his children’s other needs. One example is when the Mendelsohn family was short on funds on the day of the younger Mendelsohn’s awarding ceremony or something. The son suggested that it was okay for them not to attend or to at least forego the ice cream party afterwards. The father insisted that they should do both, regardless of the money situation.

There are more subtle episodes like that one that pierce through the father’s rigid exterior. But in the end, the son never gets to fully know his father. There are some things that he only discovers about his father as an adult, about why he never went to Bronx Science, about what they were really working on at his job, about why he never finished his dissertation. These are only a few things that he had answers for, and for sure, there are more, and these, considering his father’s age and health, will most likely be left unanswered.

Now that I’ve finished this book, I’m still not sure if I want to read the original text of The Odyssey. But if I ever get around to reading it, I’m pretty sure that I will remember the seminar that Mendelsohn held where I was an invisible student silently awed by the presence of his father.

Enhanced Community Quarantine, Day 19

It has been three weeks since the nationwide community quarantine was enforced in the Philippines. It would have been an opportune time to get back to blogging. But I was just so out of the loop that the prospect of blogging again paralyzed me. A year ago, I imagined that moving my blog over here would help me write about other things, but I always forgot that my blog is no longer exclusively about books anymore. I turned this into a casual blog so that I could write more, but alas, I just lost it.

One of my bloggy friends suggested that I go back to blogging. I hesitated for a few days. The thought lingered in my head. So I logged in and whoa, WordPress.com’s interface has changed a lot. Then I looked at the list of blogs I’m following. Others have stopped like I did, which wrung my heart a bit, but I saw familiar people still writing passionately about books. This put a smile on my face.

So let me just sum up what happened to me since the last post really quick. I have a new boyfriend (long distance relationship), traveled a lot (Domestic: Davao and Palawan; International: Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam and Osaka, Japan), stayed home with my family more often, went back to our book club, recovered super slowly from my reading slump, moved to a new apartment, attempted vlogging but got overwhelmed by the editing part of it, watched a Carly Rae Jepsen concert, bought a Kindle (finally), and currently working from home due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

The books that I read lately were book club selections and I really enjoyed them. These are A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan (a reread for me), Born a Crime by Trevor Noah (a funny primer on the horrendous apartheid), and Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo (a sprawling novel that discusses issues on race, class, feminism, and many more through the lives of its flawed yet unforgettable characters). I am looking forward to where I can read books that are not required book club readings. I’ve been slogging through Ocean Vuong’s debut novel for months (not a book club selection). It feels like fine sand quickly sifting through a filter.

This is the best I can do for now. My blogging skills are rusty at the moment. But I don’t want to throw in the towel just yet.

100 Favorite Books, 2018

My list of 100 favorite books isn’t even 100. I just managed 80. I could push the digits to a hundred if I add works from the same author. But I don’t like that. I like the challenge of choosing just that one work from my favorite authors. Maybe I’d change my mind and make exceptions, but as of now, there’s none.

I could also add some of my 4-starred books. But I also don’t like that. Sure, some of them are great, but since this is about my favorite books, I’d rather not put something in this list that are “almosts.” So everything in this list, I love for some reason.

Hopefully I could add a few more titles in 2019. This is why I’m putting out this list. Maybe it could help me get back into reading. And also, I love lists.

Gosh, my writing skills are rusty. Let’s go to the list. Happy New Year!

  1. Call Me by Your Name by Andre Aciman
  2. Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie
  3. A Death in the Family by James Agee
  4. Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson
  5. The Sea by John Banville
  6. The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes
  7. 2666 by Roberto Bolano
  8. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
  9. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
  10. Possession by A.S. Byatt
  11. A Month in the Country by J.L. Carr
  12. Cathedral by Raymond Carver
  13. Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
  14. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
  15. The Stories of John Cheever
  16. The Hours by Michael Cunningham
  17. House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
  18. The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
  19. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
  20. Ubik by Philip K. Dick
  21. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
  22. Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion
  23. A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan
  24. Middlemarch by George Eliot
  25. Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot
  26. The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides
  27. The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber
  28. Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner
  29. Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain
  30. The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
  31. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
  32. Hunger by Knut Hamsun
  33. Tinkers by Paul Harding
  34. Mysterious Skin by Scott Heim
  35. The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst
  36. A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood
  37. The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
  38. The Piano Teacher by Elfriede Jelinek
  39. The Known World by Edward P. Jones
  40. Dusk by F. Sionil Jose
  41. Fatelessness by Imre Kertesz
  42. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera
  43. Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
  44. Independent People by Halldor Laxness
  45. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  46. Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem
  47. Preparation for the Next Life by Atticus Lish
  48. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
  49. Life of Pi by Yann Martel
  50. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
  51. The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
  52. Atonement by Ian McEwan
  53. Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell
  54. Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons
  55. The Land of Green Plums by Herta Muller
  56. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
  57. Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda
  58. A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe
  59. Animal Farm by George Orwell
  60. My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk
  61. The Inverted World by Christopher Priest
  62. Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
  63. Death at Intervals by Jose Saramago
  64. Tenth of December by George Saunders
  65. Austerlitz by W.G. Sebald
  66. Family Life by Akhil Sharma
  67. One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
  68. The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman
  69. The Mountain Lion by Jean Stafford
  70. Monstress by Lysley Tenorio
  71. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
  72. Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
  73. The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder
  74. Stoner by John Williams
  75. How Fiction Works by James Wood
  76. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
  77. A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara
  78. Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates
  79. Twisted by Jessica Zafra
  80. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Writing about My Book of the Year – Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

LIncoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

The last time I posted a book review was in February 2016. That was 22 months ago! Just imagine the struggle I went through when I wrote one last week. Granted, it was for a different blog (not mine), but it took me three sessions to finish a 500-word post.

I’m still rusty at this. At times, I think I just got back to blogging a couple of weeks back. When I checked my list of posts, I saw that the “recent” post was more than a month ago. I made a mental list of things I would like to write about, which is, of course, a grave mistake. A mental list is doomed to be forgotten. But to be fair, I always write mentally, which is why I find it surprising when the text cursor furiously blinks at me for staring at it for too long.

In my head, I write sentences that I would like to end up on a blog post. But by the time I get to a computer, I either forget what I am going to write or realize that what I want to write sounds wrong. I could easily blame it for too much work-related writing and lack of leisure writing, but shouldn’t it come out naturally, something akin to swimming after years of being landlocked or riding a bike since childhood?

It seems easier to write on my journal because the only known audience is myself. Who knows which pairs of eyes may land on them in the future? With journals, I can’t be bothered with word count or writing with a set of rules to stick by (doing the intro, body, and conclusion; being coherent and cohesive). This is probably a flaw, but if it allows me to fill at least half a page of scrawny writing, which is by all means some writing done, I’m fine with it.

Maybe I’m being hard on myself, but the truth is that helps me to keep going. In fact, the book review that I wrote had a deadline, and this is ultimately why I was able to finish it. A bit of pressure here and there can do wonders. Of course, I still take to heart the sage advice of taking it easy, especially since this spot on the Internet is supposed to be my paradise. I guess what I’m saying is there should be a balance between pressure and relaxation. Tilt the scale to what weight is needed and it should be fine.

It took me a really long time to just put the darn link to my review of Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders, eh? Anyway, here it is.

Book Review – The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan

The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars. Why?

  • A harrowing subject. I believe this is a difficult novel to write for Flanagan considering that parts of it are borrowed from the experiences of his father as a POW in a Japanese labor camp. The middle of five parts details the harsh conditions that POWs had to survive while building the Burma Railway. Some parts are excruciating that I had to kick myself lest I vomit all over my book. Two scenes that got me reeling are the amputation of a limb rotting with gangrene using a kitchen saw in a makeshift operating room and the beating of an innocent POW in front of the other laborers. This beaten man later died by drowning in a pool of shit. The author writes these back-to-back events unflinchingly with no regard to the sensitivities of the reader.
  • I like how the Japanese and Korean officers in the camps were not depicted as evil, that they, like the POWs, are merely pawns of pawns in the grand scale of the war. After the war, we are given summaries of the fates of the “evil” characters wherein the reader gathers that these are not bad people after all. And of course, there are summaries of what happened to the “minor” characters, who are named Darky (the son of an Aborigine), Tiny (the strongest guy), Sheephead, Chum, Rooster, Rabbit, oh gosh. This somehow means to tell me that these POWs were just regular guys before the war, but really? Oh, there’s a Jack Rainbow and Jimmy Bigelow, too. Is there really only one space for a Dorrigo Evans (the protagonist)?
  • There’s a lot of meditation on what is life and what is love. As we read about Dorrigo’s life experiences that flash back and forth from the present to the past, fodder for epiphany are slipped here and there, but when you think you’ll get a good dose of existentialism, you get callow philosophies sprinkled with lyrical prose. I unfailingly cringed when rhetorical statements on love are presented. Maybe a lot of people never know love. Ugh. Maybe not. Okay. How empty is the world when you lose the one you love. Enough.
  • I think this could have been a better book had the ambition been less ambitious. If I were the editor, I would ask Flanagan to take out the love story angle because it has a wobbly connection to the heart of the novel. The whole love affair can be the subject of a different novel.
  • This could have been 4 out of 5 stars had I not been irritated by a huge chunk about the Dorrigo’s rescue of his family in a forest fire. Not only does it come after the point where Dorrigo and his lover are about to come to a resolution (or not), I also can’t make it connect to the grand design of the novel. An anticlimactic event that lacks purpose, which could have been burned by the author himself and saved the reader the misery of having to wonder what is this all about. Probably he wants to give life to the wife who has been static all throughout the novel, but isn’t it too late for that?

I admire the scope of The Narrow Road to the Deep North. It can be many things at the same time: a piece of historical fiction, a love affair doomed by the war, a man’s summation of his life, a view of life as a poem beyond good evil. And because it’s many things striving to be good at all, it somehow failed me. The writing is good, no doubt. There are moments when the book really shines, but I have no glittering takeaway from it when I read the last paragraph.

[448 pages. Trade paperback.]
[Read in February 2016.]
[Book 2 of 2016.]
[TFG Book of the Month for February 2016.]