reesesWeb

I've been reading a lot lately, and since I've basically given up on updating my books page, I'll spout off here on the books I've read in the past week or ten days:

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, by Michael Chabon.

I liked this decades-spanning book which hangs its plot on the development of the comic book industry from its nascency. I like any story even peripherally involving the golem, so it had me early on. There were a couple mistakes, though, that had me worried in the first 50 pages or so:

At one point, one of the characters prepares to make an elaborate escape from chains and a laundry bag under the Vltava. Paragraphs are given to his preparations to recover from the intense cold of the water, including head-to-toe wool clothing, braziers, etc. The problem is, the author gives the temperature of the water as 22.2 degrees centegrade. The quick ones among you will realise that's not at all cold, but actually quite warm -- about 72 degrees Fahrenheit. I'm guessing he did part of the conversion the wrong way, and he meant to write the centegrade equivalent of 39F, but divided by 9/5 instead of subtracting 32 and multiplying by 9/5.

The other thing, which will also not reveal the plot, is that he stated that the golem had been hidden for centuries in the eaves of the old-new synagogue in Prague. Those of you who recall the synagogue will also recall that it lacks eaves.

Other than that, and for a rather weak denouement, I really enjoyed the book.

Warlock, by Oakley Hall.

Best bloody western novel ever. I haven't read them all, and I suspect I won't need to, but this is definitely one of the best written books in my library, and definitely the best-written book from a "junk" genre (science fiction, westerns, etc.) with the possible exception of Dune. I bought this book seven or eight years ago, and just read it for the third time. I'm still discovering things I didn't notice on previous reads.

I won't bother trying to summarise this book, because it will omit so much that makes it great. Suffice it to say that it's flawless. Like all true stories, it ends badly, so be ready for the inevitable.

The Apprentice: My Life In The Kitchen, by Jacques Pepin.

I bought this because I like La Technique and La Methode, and have enjoyed his shows on PBS. This book is a collection of memoirs, along with the recipes that are apparently required in chefs' memoirs.

Memoirs, however, depress me. No one who isn't thinking about dying writes them. Friends and family passing away is a constant thread in this book, and it's apparent that it's definitely on the author's mind. This makes it a little bit of a downer, but it's fairly well written and a quick read. I'd wait for the paperback next time, though.

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