Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (16)

Reading Murakami is like listening to someone describe a vivid dream. He writes in contradictions, broken metaphors, mystic poetry. Sometimes you're not even sure he knows what he talking about.

Kafka on the Shore was sometimes indecipherable, occasionally shocking, mostly lovely - full of art and music and natural beauty. There are a two characters I absolutely adored - Oshima, a wise, transgendered librarian assistant with a charming smile and Hoshino, a Hawaiian shirt-wearing truck driver who feels protective of grandfatherly types and learns to like Bach. It was a mystery, coming of age, epic journey fantasy. It felt like a race to the answers at the end of the book, but one through Wonderland. Most of the questions are left mysteries, and though that is a little confusing (like the whole novel), it's better. It wouldn't be as beautiful with all the secrets revealed.

Sophie's World by Jostien Gaarder (15)

Philosophy can and should be a part of our everyday lives. It elevates us, helps us understand humanity and the world, and is a part of culture whether or not most people are aware of its influence. I can't say that I agree with most philosophers who (unsurprisingly) assert that the philosopher is the highest level a human can reach. But I do agree with Jostien Gaarder, and my old professors, about the importance of the subject.

Sophie's World is quite a novel. It's now been about 20 years since it's first publication in Norwegian, but a book containing an understandable and concise history of philosophy is never irrelevant. The reader learns to become a philosopher along with the main character, Sophie. And what makes a person a philosopher? Asking questions, keeping one's mind open to possibilities, and learning from history. It's simple, really.

Graphic Novel - Chew (14)

Chew, Volume One, Taster's Choice
By John Layman & Rob Guillory

Chew is a crime-busting, gimmicky cop comic. Tony Chu is a vice cop and a cibopath - when he tastes something, he receives a vision of its past, like pesticides from an apple or the death of a cow from a burger. I think you have an idea of where this is going... how many disgusting things will Tony have to eat in his crime solving career? The possibilities are myriad and revolting.

There is a little more depth to the story than Fear Factor-esque gross-outs. There is a mysterious government conspiracy making chicken illegal to eat, a saboscrivner, and all of the things that make cop shows like CSI so fun and addictive.

The art is a perfect for the story. Harsh, intentionally sloppy, with caricature characters in full color. Y The Last Man is another conspiracy-ridden, mystery/action comic, but all the lines are clean and nearly every female character is Wonder Woman. Hardly a problem like that in Chew, and the comic is better for it. I like illustrators who are unafraid of drawing ugly characters.

Peace Like A River by Leif Enger (13)

Once when I was reading Peace Like A River on the subway, I bumped into a friend as I got off at my stop. She was right next to me the whole ride, but said that I looked so happy reading my book that she didn't want to interrupt me.

This is a story of a small family in rural Minnesota in the '60s. The protagonist is Reuben, an eleven-year-old with severe asthma. He adores his family and so does the reader. His father is the school janitor (what horror for a kid!), but is wise and kind and a man of such great faith that he performs miracles. Reuben's younger sister is Swede: fiesty, smart, and obsessed with westerns. His older brother, Davy, is convicted with murder early in the book. He is a cowboy type of hunk: he escapes prison, rides horses through the prairie, expertly wields a shotgun, and drifts in an out of his brother's life as he pleases, evading the law.

It is a great story, one that's been told and retold, but is always worth hearing. The familial relationships are precious and deep. The characters are well-crafted, and the landscape is unfamiliar and wild. Peace Like A River is also full of religious experiences, Biblical references, and talk of faith, but it never feels preachy. Perhaps because the reader sees it all from Reuben's perspective, with childhood bewilderment and awe at the separate world of adults.

On Beauty by Zadie Smith (12)

After reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog, On Beauty was uncomfortably corporeal. Zadie Smith's Love is not ethereal, philosophical, communal. Smith's Beauty is not a form or an idea. Beauty is in flesh, Love is in decisions.

This beauty isn't shallow - it is tangible. It manifests in people attractive and average, in paintings and music, poetry and actions. Something the reader has probably at least once seen and described as beautiful.

The Belsey family at the core of this novel is realistic. I keep saying that in these reviews - these characters are so real. But that's because real families fall apart, or fall into that limbo between deciding to tough it out and leaving the hurt and mess behind.

The only unbelievable thing is the recurring phrase "meant to" when anyone I know would say "supposed to." (Born and raised on the East Coast, I have never heard someone say "What am I meant to do?") It was oddly distracting.

On Beauty is intense and emotional. I think I'm still digesting it, a week later.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (11)

Elegance has all of my weaknesses. Paris, France. Philosophical meditations. Precocious twelve year old in pink glasses. Protagonists who are intellectual and misunderstood. Poking fun at self-centered snobs.

It is written as two separate journals, one kept by the solitary, pre-adolescent genius, Paloma, and the other by the concierge at her upscale apartment building, the solitary, middle-aged introvert Renee. The reader sees each writer's inner most musings. To give any details of the book itself would be to betray it's beauty, which is this novel's essence. Reflections on the beauty of life, language, thought, humanity. And even translated from its native French, it is gorgeous, rich prose.

For those used to a common narrative structure, it could seem slow moving. The reader learns Paloma's and Renee's history and plans, but there is little plot development until the last third of the book. It feels like living inside the characters' minds for a few average days. But the original sedentary pace makes the second half of the book that much more precious.

It is a book to read again, and to cry over again.

Graphic Novel - Y: The Last Man (10)

Y: The Last Man - Deluxe Edition Books 1 & 2 by Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra


It has been interesting reading this series after McCarthy's The Road. In Y: The Last Man, a plague kills every last male organism on the Earth, except a listless, street performing college graduate named Yorick and his pet monkey, Ampersand. It's not exactly post-apocalyptic, but it's close. This isn't just a world without men, this is a world of survivors who witnessed the gruesome and inexplicable death of their children, coworkers, lovers, neighbors. And the women not only have to rebuild their society and industries, they have to figure out how to continue the human race.

Despite the grim circumstances, Y is a fun action-flick book. The accidental hero Yorick is an occasionally moody, lovable joker. Reading it is like picking up a conglomeration of Tank Girl, Bourne, Andromeda Strain, and Playboy (there is a remarkable amount of breasts shown in an all-female society, according to Vaughn and Guerra). I like the meditations on how women interpret the plague and where they place hope for their species's salvation. The characters are real and compelling and are really the only unique aspect of the series. Power vortexes, methods of survival, the breakdown of society, a female-only culture have all been pondered in literature before. I'd love to hear an explanation of the plague and see how the women figure out the future of humanity. I suspect I won't have that satisfaction, so I'm more invested in the characters and action scenes. I will definitely pick up the next book.