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This Week in Books
April 12, 2009 in book reviews
Recently Read

Every now and then I like to read a non-fiction book—it’s like going over a speed bump when I’m hurtling along too quickly on Fiction Boulevard. Instead of inhaling a novel a week, I’m forced to take a month to read the facts, assess the argument, and synthesize the thesis. And then when I go back to fiction, everything seems fresher. I guess I have a demonstrable genre bias.

Anyway, having finished the refreshingly uncluttered Postethnic America, I sped through Carolina de Robertis’s debut novel, The Invisible Mountain. A friend of mine described the book as “the greatest Lifetime movie ever made…and Lifetime’s made a lot of movies, so that’s saying a lot.” I agree, and with no degree of condescension or irony. The Invisible Mountain is like Gabriel García Márquez’s 100 Years of Solitude, but with an all-female cast of characters. I don’t think I need to explain—you pretty much know what you’re getting: a splash of magical realism, a revolution, epic narratives that span generations, and moving displays of passion. On the other hand, this is a debut novel, so expect flightly turns of phrase, à la “She sped, leapt, careened towards the dazzling bluebright open sea.”* Nevertheless, I still recommend picking up a copy of this book when it comes out in August—it’s the kind of engrossing book that turns off all of your extrasensory perceptions while reading it. Don’t read it on the subway.
Currently Reading

At last! I’ve been looking forward to reading this book ever since the buzz began, but I insisted on reading Drown first. I’m glad I did: having familiarized myself with Díaz’s previous stories about living Dominican in New Jersey and Washington Heights helped to contextualize Oscar’s life and those of his friends and family. And the narrative voices…wow. As I was discussing with a friend, it seems like most recently published and recently hyped books come in one of two voices: cynical white male and excited/impassioned white female. I’m not saying that Oscar’s voice is better, but it is startling. And invigorating. So, unlike The Invisible Mountain, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is exactly the right book to be reading on the subway—the cultural pastiche syncs up perfectly with the chaos of a subway car.

I’m still on the first story, but I can already tell that Jhumpa Lahiri is a master of domestic drama. This genre of story doesn’t often get its due, having been weighed down by bestselling tepid potboilers, but home sweet home can be literature’s most destructive setting.

Quickly, two things I’ve learned from Istanbul:
- Istanbul is sad because it used to be mighty, but now it is not. Much like some people I know from high school.
- Orhan Pamuk is definitely a mama’s boy.
*Not an actual quote—I’ve already loaned out my copy of the book, so I can’t refer back to an actual passage.
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“Istanbul is sad because it used to be mighty, but now it is not. Much like some people I know from high school.”
I’m not going to take this personally.