The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger

    It's true that I was forced to read this in the 8th grade, and whenever I was forced to hear the teacher reading, I opted to sleep instead.  But I also read it in 9th grade on a boring Sunday afternoon with nothing else to do. I got through it, but I don't feel like I gained anything significant from it, and while having similar qualities to Holden (like angst, probably the only thing that kept me reading), he didn't interest me enough to fall head over heels for him like so many other people. Maybe it was the drinking, maybe it was that he couldn't get through a paragraph without writing "goddamnit" at least once, maybe it was because he was dreadfully whiney and selfish, maybe it was because nothing exciting happened in the book, but after finishing it and realizing that he made no effort to better himself, I wanted a refund on my Sunday afternoon. 

The Guermantes Way, Marcel Proust

I've discovered why I like Proust so much. It's the way he paints metaphors around beautiful moments in time, which conjure abstract visions in my imagination. Often these metaphors will build upon one another, so that the tapestry of the writing yields a universal marvel at such artistry. Unfortunately, The Guermantes Way didn't have anywhere near the amount of these than in Young Girls In Flower. Most of this volume is set at tedious dinner parties in high class Parisian society. Our protagonist is quickly becoming an adult, and he is dangerously living on the brink of hypocrisy with his keen interest in societal affairs and his critique of all the fabricated witticisms that come with it. Many of the people in this volume are snobbish and conceited. Mme De Guermantes herself, while being the most interesting person in the book, appears to be generous at first, but really prioritizes her intellectual status in society above all niceties. I found myself yawning and skipping ahead often, but at least some of the conversations were amusing. At the end I was thinking to Proust, "Why did you bother writing about such tedium when you found it boring?" Perhaps I'll find out why in volume 4. 

There were two precious gems in this chore of a book. The first 50 pages are extraordinary (he's at the Phaedra show again, this time unable to take his eyes off the Guermantes). It seemed that the book would take that lovely extension from Young Girls in Flower and pull it all the way through. But alas, then came the dreadful dinner parties. The other gem was about midway through, during his next encounter with Albertine. 

Possession, A.S. Byatt

    Possession is a heartfelt mystery containing a beautiful sync of double-plots. Two researchers are getting to the bottom of a secret love affair between two Victorian poets. One is a spiritual Darwinist (if that's not an oxymoron) and the other is a devout lesbian (if that's not another oxymoron!). Along the way they decipher old letters that pose enigmas behind the secret relationship, while trying to maintain distance from the corrupt establishments that are hot on their trails in the wake of their discovery. As the novel progresses, they discover new feelings about their own relationship as well. The two plots mesh fantastically at the end, as all the mysteries come to a satisfying conclusion, with several ironies to wit. There is a twist, and it's kind of predictable, but that doesn't detract this from being a phenomenal book. It's one of those books that are perfect for cuddling up with near a fire on a cold, wet day. The intermittent snippets of poetry and letters fit in perfectly throughout the book (I can see how this might bother those who are only interested in researchers' plot). The poetry is fantastical, epic, and beautiful. The letters, while being highly revelatory, are incredibly diverse in prose, as Byatt writes from the perspective of numerous peoples past and present. There are convincing themes of "biological feminism" that recalls the mythology of Gaia while the fringe science of the Darwinist era still attempted to reason from spiritualism. There is also a strong emotional undertone of familial congruence that blossoms delightfully, like all the vast species of flowers Byatt recalls throughout the book. I highly recommend this to intellectuals, lovers of mythological poetry, romantics, and people who don't mind a massive amount of detail in describing quaint, petite settings. This didn't win the 1990 Booker Prize for nothing, I promise you. 

The Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

Iranian leader Ayatollah Khomenei famously issued a fatwa against Salman Rushdie for a blasphemous passage in The Satanic Verses. The passage made it appear that verses from the prophet Mohammed had really been issued from the devil in disguise. This outraged many Muslims around the world. Considering the book’s difficult subject material, one has to wonder how many of them actually read it, much less understood its contents. The verses were spoken by a (debatably schizophrenic) man who thought he was the archangel Gabriel, so I don't think Rushdie actually meant to offend anyone. 

 

The Satanic Verses has some fascinating religious imagery, and a full serving of Rushdie's unique wit. It begins with an explosion in the sky. Two diametrically opposed human beings fall from an airplane. Both survive the fall, but their ensuing adventures are riddled with supernatural changes that are on par with Biblical themes like Satan's fall in Paradise Lost, which, along with The Arabian Nights, must have inspired this book. Interspersed with the main plots are vivid dream sequences that don The Satanic Verses a masterpiece of magical realism. Some of Rushdie's prose in this book is gorgeous; one of my favorite things about it is the delirious illumination. Who can forget the poetic surrealism of the first chapter, the butterflies after the storm, Allelulia Cone on Mt. Everest, the metamorphosis of London, and all those heads disappearing under the Arabian Sea? Sure, it digressed a lot, but with the way Salman writes, who cares? 

 

The following is my interpretation of everything (spoiler alert). Gibreel the actor becomes possessed by the archangel Gabriel- the Islamic Gabriel, not the Christian one- after the plane crash, as does Saladin become possessed by Satan (or Shaitan). A near death experience can theoretically do this- while you are temporarily dead, your body can be prone to paranormal assault. The dreams that Gibreel have are memories from his past incarnations, each of which are parallel to the rise of monotheism. In the first dream, which is set during the Islamic revolution, Mahound represents Muhammad and Jahilia represents Mecca. Mahound's slaying of the pantheon of goddesses in Jahilia illustrates the beginning of female repression in the Arab world after the birth of Islam. In this past life Gibreel was Mahound, not the archangel that appeared to him. It might be construed that his dreams are from the point of view of the angels, but I think Salman did a brilliant job of making it seem like both. Since Gibreel is possessed by the angel his own memories are interspersed with his, making the dream more convoluted as it mixes the present with the past. As Gibreel's soul fights the archangel for possession, there is a slow psychological deterioration that presents quite an awesome climax in all three plots. This theory is further strengthened by the other dream sequence- the grand pilgrimage to Mecca, which is oddly represented by the India salt march of 1930. In this dream, Gibreel appears to be Gandhi, yet has the appearance of Ayesha, who looks like a fantastical version of Allelulia Cone, his lover in the present. This dream is even more convoluted than the first; it confuses the salt march for a pilgrimage and Gibreel’s lover for Gandhi. The battle for possession in this dream really messed with Gibreel’s head, and we know what happened next.