An Abundance of Katherines

150px-An_Abundance_of_Katherines-cover

(Not the actual cover I got)

So I recently (yesterday) picked up and promptly devoured John Green’s An Abundance of Katherines. I really enjoyed the book, as you might infer by the fact that I finished it in a span of about 24 hours as opposed to my usual 2-3 days to completion. It reminded me of how much I like to read for fun instead of just for academic purposes. Though, let the record show that I do actually enjoy reading books academically as well. As far as John Green books go, I actually might have to rate this one as my favorite. The first one I read was Looking for Alaska, then Paper Towns, TFiOS, Will Grayson Will Grayson, and finally the Christmas-y collaboration then got a little too busy/distracted to round out the set like I normally do. Side-note, I have also read the novellas he’s written about zombifying corn and found them laughable, which in my book is good, especially considering that is what the author was aiming for (or at least admitting profoundly in his vlog).  Now that I have almost all the time in the world I figured I would.

The things I liked: The book definitely holds to the author’s belief that a book does not have to have a likeable protagonist to be a good book or at least an enjoyable read. He cites Catcher in the Rye and my evidence is found in The House of Mirth (Yes, I know Lily is objectively charming and personable, but I feel as though the reader is presented with an outside view that makes her understandable, but still dislikable). In Katherines we are given Colin as our protagonist, a clingy, no longer child prodigy, who has a warped view of his past relationships, a need for constant affirmation, and an obsession with being remembered through history that gets in the way of his social progress in the moment. He does have some redeeming factors and passages, but over all I find him dislikeable through most of the book.

Wow, I went on for awhile on that… So onto other things I liked. There is a character who is fat but doesn’t bitch and moan about it (he accepts it as part of who he is and looks elsewhere for his self-esteem) who is also a positive religious model who follows the spirit of his religion without being dogmatic about it. The famale protagonist is a social chameleon, which feels very realistic in the way it is portrayed. As well, the book, like many of John Green’s writings, concerns itself at least in part with real issues that carry larger significance than the teen angst and romance around which the plot is centered. In here, it is the dying welfare of a whole town. It doesn’t go into much depth really and there is no resolution given, but it adds dimension to the book as a whole.

What I didn’t like: There were times where the main characters whining and his friend’s determination to inaction grated on my nerves, but that was due to an uncomfortable familiarity, which falls entirely on my shoulders. The premise was a bit unrealistic(two boys just role into town and get relatively high paying jobs without trying??), but that is what suspension of disbelief is for.*SPOILER ALERT* The flagrant graveyard sex to bring about the cheating revelation seemed very diabolus ex machina to me. Or at least I would never cheat in a public place knowing people I know (including my girlfriend) were around. *END OF SPOILERS*

Overall, it had much the same feel as John Green’s other books while still being a completely different text morally and philosophically. If you like John Green books, you’ll love Katherines. If you dislike his books, you will dislike this one. If you have yet to formulate an opinion on his work, I’d give this book a try. Simple enough.

Far Away Pt. 1

(So I don’t even know what this is, I think I might make a part two, but I don’t know where I want to go.)

 

A tall, pale figure stood at the crest of the hill and gazed own at a serene Arcadian town. His posture was straight and unwavering even as the breeze bowed the tall grass and rustled the leaves of the trees behind him. It was a wonderfully warm spring day. The kind that warranted families going out on picnics and kids flying kites  only to have them crash into the ground. Oh how I would kill to feel this weather on my skin one last time, he thought to himself. This made him laugh out loud, truly and deeply for the first time in eons.

A little girl ran from between the trees with her arms spread wide. She buzzed and hummed through pursed lips and made wide looping turns centered around the pale figure.  Whenever she passed in front of him his gave would follow her for a moment before returning to the town below, but beyond that he paid her no mind. When she finally got bored of her little game, she slowed to a stop and gazed off to the town like the pale man did. The look of confusion on her face betrayed her utter ignorance as to wht made the scene so transfixing to him.

“So the game starts today?” she aksed skipping closer. “You said we would start playing today, but you didn’t even play airplanes with me or climb that huge tree back there or guess what I spied with my little eye. You said we’d start playing. What kind of game did you have in mind?”

“I’m afraid it will be a very long and complicated game, my dear sister, “ he said, inclining his head ever so slightly in her direction, “nothing like what you’re used to. But it is a game that must be played none the less and we are the fated to be the first players. If I were you I wouldn’t be so eager to begin.”

“Are you eager?” she tugged lightly on the sleeve of his sleek dark suit.

“Have you ever seen me convincingly eager about anything?” he replied with a breath of weariness in his voice.

“Will it at least be a fun game?” she asked pouting her lips.

“No, it will not.” He said putting a hand on her shoulder, “I only pray that you stay this sunny through to the end.”

Without another word, the pale man began to slowly walk down the slope of the hill in the direction of the little town he had been watching for the past hour. After a moment spent puzzling out what he had said the little girl set off after him, arms spread wide like an airplane again. The pace of the man’s stride was slow and leasurly while the girl moved so quickly she almost lost her footing several times. Together the two of them made very little noise, aside from the girl’s airplane buzzing, whenever they walked places.

When the pair finally reached the foot of the hill, they joined a winding dirt road cutting through the green ocean. Farmers in carts and women with small children in tow passed on either side of the road and paid no attention to the two of them. Even when the girl got in a person’s way, they simply sidestepped her or paused until she moved. A few of the people seemed to notice the man for and instant and a half, but their eyes always slid by with no true comprehension.

“Tell me again,” the girl asked, tugging at the man’s sleeve again, “Why don’t they see us?”

“They do see us,” he mused lazily, “just not as we appear to each other. They see us every day, even if we don’t see them. We’re always on their mind, morning noon and night.” A woman coming the other direction seemed to notice the man more than the others. Her son seemed to see the girl in her frolicking. A smile spread across the child’s face while a look of sheer terror crossed the woman’s. And then it was gone and the other pair was on their way as easily as they had been before. “ You see, we are not invisible, even when we are. It is truly bothersome to think of when unnecessary.”

“Today is too confusing and I didn’t even get to eat breakfast,” the girl whined, “Let’s go home, make some toast and you can try to teach me chess again.”

“Sadly, my dear sister, we have work to do.”

“You said we’d be playing a game!”

“This time, it’s the same thing.”

Before them sat an inn. It looked like every other inn in every other town on every other floating island around every other continent. To the people of the village and those passing through on one sort of errand or another, it was the only thing they noticed less than the queer pair standing in the road out front of it. But to the two of them, it was important. The girl could taste it in the air all around the building and the man could see it from the foundations up. The first move of their game would happen here and very soon, but not at the exact moment they were observing.

Around them time passed, the island spun slowly, the continent turned, and the whole universe barreled toward entropic chaos, while they watched an inn where soon a strgange happening would take place. A strange happening that would shake the foundadtion of everything they knew and didn’t know. In the light of the sun, the two yellow daisies that sprouted where the girl’s eyes should have been bloomed wide and bright. Inside the hollows of the pale man’s skull, two moths with a single yellow spot on their wings stirred before fluttering off into the sky. The pale man laid a hand on the shoulder of the sunny girl and the two of them waited.

 

Samantha sat bolt upright in he bed…

Guitar Envy

(Written whilst drunk)

I hate the way they look at them,
the girls with starry eyes
watching the boys with their guitars,
while I sit to the side with my beer
and my little leather notebook
pretending to be Bukowski or Hemmingway.

It’s safe to say I’m envious

If I could sing,
if I could strum the stringsthen you might see me too
and undress me with your eyes
in glorious stereotype role reversal.
If only my art were more party friendly.

It’s safe to say I’m envious.

She was talking to me
before you began to play
and stole her ears away.
She looked at me like I was cool,
like my words made some sense…
Before you began to play…

It’s safe to say I’m envious.

The famous four chords
ring through the din of social structure
and all at once I’ve lost the fight.
Utter rout, bitter defeat, the end.
Her eyes and ears fall elsewhere now,
I might as well slink to the corner and write.

It’s safe to say I’m envious.

And Now with Haste

So for all you Hamlet fans out there, my final was to compose a new soliloquy for Hamlet in iambic pentameter. It’s set in the missing pirate scenes that I’m convinced scholars over the ages lost. In it, Hamlet affirms his resolve to finally commit his revenge. I already heard back from my professor and I got 100% on it, I’m proud of that, so I’m posting it here. Without further a babbling here it is:

Hamlet:

And now with haste, at last, for home I sail,
Just as the great Odysseus once did,
Cross slate grey seas and unforgiving waves,
To land I now find queer and out of grace
To spill the blood that fate did task to me,
To take the life, to bleed him dry, I go.
Father, too long have I languished in haze
And dark recess of my own doubting mind.
Too long did I delay, too long, too long.
My path is clear, my fate is set in stone.
The dark is gone leaving but one recourse,
My sword will taste the blood of the false king.
The warm crimson will fall on steel and stone,
Redemption’s rain, lost blood for blood taken.
Your throne dyed red, the color of revenge,
My hands dyed red in the name of my land.
And on that sanguine day my oath is paid,
His life for yours, the hematic exchange.
And then, without my doubt, without my debit,
May I at last find rest and peaceful sleep.

3 Book Reviews

So I was driving home today for Easter weekend and listening to a book on tape, shortly after having watched a plurality of Vlogbrothers videos. Of course, I am right around the point in the series where they talk about Paper Towns. This confluence of factors got me thinking about books I’ve read involving road trips (the book on tape was not a road trip book though). This got me thinking about the book Crash Into Me, which in my mind is linked to Venomous and Breathing Underwater because they are all very emotionally heavy books.So I decided to review them for my fine reading audience.

*Warning: These books are angsty YA books. So if that is not your cup of tea, they are not for you.*

Crash Into Me by Albert Borriscrashcover

The book follows a group of kids who call themselves “The Suicide Dogs”, a rather unique group of friends united by their attempts to kill themselves, as they set out on a road trip across America. The goal of this road trip is to visit the grave sites of famous suicide committers and then finally end it all in the ever so appropriately named Death Valley. The group includes Frank, the decidedly unathletic football fanatic who ate a pile of pills, Jin-Ae, a Korean lesbian who tried to slit her wrists, Audrey, a Nirvana loving girl who tried to crush her own skull with a frying pan, and Owen, a fact knowing and list making boy who’s tried almost everything to finally be done.

The four of them set out to visit the graves of Anne Sexton, Hunter S. Thompson, Ernest Hemingway, Kurt Cobain, and whoever else they think of on the way. As they travel and camp, the four of them begin to fulfill last wishes and grow closer as the time passes. Their lives and pasts are given to us as each of the car’s inhabitants chooses to open up to the other travelers. The tale takes the reader on a zigzagging trip across the nation as the youths sleep in various campgrounds and parking lots and fund themselves with a stolen family credit card. As the reader makes their way through the text, they begin to learn the ins and outs of the characters personalities in subtle ways like small actions and off hand remarks. when read carefully, these small details clue the reader into the secrets and motivations of everyone on the voyage. Without any spoilers, I’ll just say that almost nothing is as it seems.

Venomous by Christopher Krovatinvenomous-christopher-krovatin-hardcover-cover-art

This book follows the life of Locke Vinetti, a moody loner who has had anger management problems since he was very young, when he tackled a boy and bit off the tip of his nose. Since the event, he became a loner with only one real and constant friend. The friend, Randall, begins to bring Locke into his social group to socialize him more thuroughly and do his part to get him past his “Dangerous” label. Shortly after his introduction to the group, an eclectic gathering of subcultures united under the theme of tarot cards, Locke meets the blue haired Renée (who he eventually dates) and the similarly rage filled Casey. These two and the other main players in his life take up front row seats as Locke is forced to confront his shit.

The book’s narrative is appropriately dark to match the outlook of the narrator and the chapters are inter cut with fantasy comic book style scenes where Locke’s superhero alter ego fights the evil Venom (which is how he personifies his issues). The storyline takes us through the lives of a bunch of kids who are just trying to make sense of their emotions and hormones and various issues. It pulls this off well enough, but at times seems almost too bleak. Of course I say this now, looking back. At the time I first read it (as I was struggling with emerging bipolar disorder), I gloried in the identifability of it all. The tension mounts as the various piles of drama that comprise teenage life begin to grind into each other chaotically and the kids are finally forced to deal with what they’ve been letting run their lives for so long.

Breathing Underwater by Alex FlinnBreathing+Underwater

Where the protagonists of the other two books aknowledge the fact that they are totally fucked up, Nick Andreas believes he is completely fine. The courts, however, disagree entirely. Nick is placed into anger management classes for beating the holy living hell out of his (now ex) girlfriend Caitlin even though he claims it was merely a slap. In group therapy Nick is in good company. None of the other attendees think they’ve done anything wrong at all. None the less they get assigned a project to journal all the events leading up to their respective enrollments in the course. Through this we learn that Nick was a big shot at his school. He was the guy with the money who could have what he wanted, and he wanted Caitlin. As the reader follows their courtship, they see Nick’s jealousy and control freakiness erupt full force every time he is slighted. The tension builds and builds as we begin to see just exactly why he ended up in a semi circle with a handful of other angry dudes.

The story is told in two parts, the first person current observations and life of Nick and his introspective/self aggrandizing diaries about his life before court.  The book, much like the other two I guess, touches on some heavy topics like domestic violence and the cycle of abuse. Nick neutralizes the wrongfulness of his actions in his own head and passes off what he can’t completely explain away as the influence of his emotionally controlling and physically abusive father. It dives into the realm of self perception and presentation in such a way that the reader will start to desire to look at their own life to confirm whether or not they are guilty of the same sins (the memory manipulation and guilt neutralization, not domestic abuse) in which Nick wholeheartedly indulges.

This is some heavy stuff. I don’t like my posts to completely lack any shred of happiness, so enjoy my favorite dancing bear and hipster combo.

DancesWithBaer

[Name Omitted]

Her name was dismissed
When they cut out her tongue.
His name was taken
The day they rent his fingers.
Their names were forgotten
When the bullets began to fly.

This is for the greater good.
This is for your own safety.
You’ll thank us some day.

They said with selfrightiously
With a stiff finger pointed at [Name Omitted].

Silence is golden.

The Shadow Man

It all started back in middle school when I found a way to slip out the basement window without setting off an alarm. It gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted, and sure there were a few times when I would sneak over to a girls house so we could clumsily paw each other for a bit, but what I really loved to do was just go out for a walk. For the first few weeks I wandered aimlessly through my neighborhood, stopping at the park or the community pool when the older kids weren’t “swimming” after hours. Eventually this grew boring and I started staying in more nights out of the week.

Then one night I found the golf course and I was back out in full force. It belonged to the country club down the road, but was still within easy walking distance of my house. It was dark, the trees blocked the wind, and best of all it was totally empty after hours. The members only used the club house and their private pool, and the older kids were too put off by the security to go there. I was free to wander wherever I liked through the sprawling fields and paths I only had to dodge the occasional security guard mounted on a half charged golf cart which was a small price to pay.

For a year, I went out to the golf course at least once a month, even if there was snow on the ground. By the time I was in high school, I knew the place like the back of my hand. Sometimes I brought friends out to one of the little manmade lakes and we’d drink shitty wine bought from one of our friend’s older sister. Other times I brought whoever I was dating out to go star gazing. I even lost my virginity in the little building behind the 7th green. I can say with all certainty that the golf course was my favorite place on the planet.

Things started to get weird on night halfway through July after my junior year. I was out particularly late that night, around four in the morning or somewhere close to that, slowly making my way up a hill near the back. I was sure I was alone when I arrived. I knew I was alone when I stopped to take a piss. No one but me would be out this late, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched or followed. I kept hearing footsteps slightly off rhythm from my own and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end every time I passed through a patch of moonlight. Twice I came across lines of footprints through the dewy grass but they were gone after a blink.

Being thoroughly spooked, I decided to wrap up my stroll and make for the homestead. When I turned, I saw it. A silhouette stood at the bottom of the path. The figure was next to featureless, a smooth black human shape, but I could still feel it staring straight at me. The temperature of the air dropped sharply as it took a step toward me. The shadows around it began to bend and follow the thing as it strode in my direction. Every foot closed between us blinked out the stars above until the sky was nearly black. When the shadow reached the foot of the hill, clouds blew in and blotted out the full moon in a single moment.

I turned and ran. As fast as I could. As far as I could.

The next thing I clearly remember was the sun rising. I was on the far end of town, by the train tracks. They were almost ten miles from my house.  My legs were killing me and my heart was still racing, but the light flooding the world around me went a long way toward calming me down. I still didn’t have any clue what had happened, but I chalked it up to insomnia hallucinations combined with the stress of trying to quit smoking. The walk back across town took forever since I was careful to give the golf course a wide breadth. The rest of the month I stayed inside, pulled the blinds on all the windows I passed, and thank the gods nothing out of the ordinary happened.

By the end of August, I was feeling antsy spending so many nights indoors after having spent so much of my life with the option of wandering about the world while everyone slept. After a half dozen long sessions of staring at myself in the bathroom mirror mumbling reassurances, I convinced myself that the dark thing was a terrible dream and the night was still benevolent. It’s still my friend, I said over and over again. When I finally did manage to go outside after dark, I was on edge even going in small circles around the block, but nothing happened. Despite my mounting courage, I didn’t dare go back to the golf course.

After a few more timid outings, I became comfortable enough to visit a few of the places I used to frequent before I discovered the golf course. The pool was still a cruising spot for people from my school but I never quite fit in with that particular crowd, so I stuck to the park most nights. People passed through there more often than I was used to after my many hours of solitude, but they never looked twice at me. It was nice to feel almost alone again.

And then one night I was sitting on a swing, enjoying the last smoke before I would have to bribe someone to buy me another pack when I felt it again. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. My heart beat jumped to my ears when I head hear disembodied footsteps behind me. Panicking, I sprinted out of the park as quickly as possible and onto the street toward my house when I saw it again, not even 100 yards down the road. It was the same black outline, staring straight at me. All of the sudden my legs were lead. I tried to shout but my voice didn’t make a sound. The rest of the world was just as silent as my voice, even the sound of far off cars was gone from the air.

I turned my head to see if there were any houses I could run to, but all of the windows up and down the block were dark. Behind the glass I could see shadows moving, but they weren’t the people who lived in the houses. They were more silhouette figures like the one at the end of the road. They were watching the two of us. When the shadow man took a step, all the others began to whisper like the wind passing through a thicket of trees.

Again, the lights of the world began to blink out as it moved. The streetlights flickered and died as it passed. Its gait was faster this time, more determined. I stumbled backwards as best I could, but the darkness was thick as water. It slowed every movement and blurred the world around me. Without knowing how it got there, a branch was suddenly clasped in my hands and the shadow man was bearing down on m. The cold was overwhelming, the air in my lungs froze, my teeth chattered like jackhammers, and my hands stiffened around my weapon. The thing leaned in, only inches away from my face, and a gash opened into a twisted mess of razor sharp teeth and fangs.

I swung the branch as hard as I could but it passed right through the monster.

All my attack accomplished was a momentary pause as fibers of darkness sewed together, but in the moment it took to restructure itself the night became clear and the street lights flicked back on. I turned and ran again, but I could hear it behind me. It was running and the others were whispering. The air shook with black fury as I sprinted toward the pool full of other kids. The fence was easy to vault, but then I tripped head long into the water. When I surfaced, the shadow noise was replaced by cheers as the other kids dove in all around me.

I didn’t dare go out alone at night for the rest of the summer, but it wasn’t that hard considering I became an instant favorite at the near constant after hours pool party. There were times where I missed being alone, but the second shadow attack and half plastered girls in bikinis convinced me to stay with company whenever the sun went down. There were a few times, looking out my window or driving home, when I thought I saw the Shadow Man standing in the shadows or slowly walking down the road, but I dismissed these as my nerves getting to me.

School starting made everything easier. I didn’t even mind the mountains of work that came with being a senior when I compared it with the stress and paranoia of the previous summer.  A college acceptance letter arrived early in the year, I began dating a beautiful girl, and the drama teacher cast me as a principal role. Everything was going so well that the two attacks got shuffled to the back of my mind and filed as ‘over and done with’. When the time came, the play went off without many complications and everyone sped off to the cast party immediately except for my girlfriend and me. The two of us were kissing in the corner when she finally decided it was time to head out, but I still had my costume to deal with so I sent her ahead.

And then, for the first time in months, I was alone again.

All of my muscles tensed and my ears pricked up to catch any hint of other footsteps as I put all of my costumes pieces back on the rolling rack, but the school was silent. When I turned the corner or the hallway that leads to the parking lot, I thought I was home free. But sure enough there stood the Shadow Man, staring at me with a snarling toothy grin. One by one, three blood red eyes peeled open on its face and the whispering wind swept through the hallway as the others filed through classroom doors and down the stair cases until it was one long shadow lined lane between the monster and me.

For a long minute we stood our ground. I wasn’t going to balk this time. I decided on the spot it was time to put an end to this. I wouldn’t flinch, I wouldn’t run, I wouldn’t let the fear control me anymore. As usual, the shadow took its first step forward and the temperature dropped to freezing. This time, however, I took a step forward too. All around us the audience of shadows ceased their incessant whispers. The world was deathly quiet as the two of us matched each other step for step, the shadows bending behind the thing and the light somehow gathering at my back. In the middle we met face to face, as close as we had been the night of the second standoff. The breath seeping between its fangs was just as cold as I remembered.

Through the cloying silence, the faint sound of a clock ticked of second after second. After what felt like a lifetime of unmoving tension, I thought for one brief and glorious moment that I had won. The Shadow Man was as unmoving as a statue and the darkness was clearing away. I could turn around and walk away and there wasn’t a thing it could do. But just as I was about to enact my exit, the jagged cage of teeth in front of me began to slide open and my heart was gripped by an icy hand. Its mouth gaped like a snake’s unhinged jaw, and inside its mouth swirled a whirlpool of crimson, purple, and black forming tortured faces that grimaced in pain and faded horrendously.

Without any inhale it let out a screech  that shook the windows and pushed back the black veil of silhouettes around us. In the noise I could hear the howling of animals caught in snares and chewing through their own legs and the screeching of an axe being sharpened after a slaughter. The screams of mothers and children dying in each other’s arms mixed with the shrieking of a victim being flayed alive. As each sound wound its way out of the knot of fear and death contained within the Shadow Man’s maw it dug a claw into my brain like a jagged ice pick and pulled outward. When I couldn’t take anymore, I let the Shadow Man’s teeth bury themselves in my neck. The others flooded in and engulfed me in the darkness. I let it take me and fill me.

Finally I was alone in silence with no fear…

…

…

…

When my eyes opened again, I was looking at a blank white ceiling. All around doctors rushed from bed to bed, tending people and checking monitors. I wanted to get up and ask someone why I was there, but my body wouldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. My tongue was a cold slug in my mouth and my neck burned in a line from ear to ear. When a doctor finally did get around to me, she told me that I had hung myself and that I was very lucky a janitor found me before I died. As I laid that bed and tried to piece together the previous night, I saw it again, with its fiery eyes and buzz saw grin, standing in the hallway. I blinked and it was at my bed side.

“I’m not done with you,” the Shadow Man whispered in my ear.