My number one book this year was The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. I’d never read anything by her before and was just floored at how great this one was. It’s a tragic story of poor black families in Ohio, and all sorts of awful things happen to them. The plot centers around a little girl named Pecola who thinks all her problems would disappear if she were white, with pale blue eyes. The plot’s nothing but a downer, but not indulgent or wallowing, and never boring. I give it an A+.
The Forsaken by Tim Tzouliadis was a surprising and interesting story of the (unknown number of) Americans who were lured to Stalin’s Russia during the depression with the promise of work and prosperity in accordance with “The Five Year Plan.” I remember one man saying something like “I should have known it was too good to be true when I stepped off the boat and a banner read ‘2 + 2 = 5’.” Of course it didn’t work out, and as their passports were immediately confiscated, the ex-pats were disowned by their own (former?) government, and ignored by a particularly naive and/or complacent American Ambassador (whom Tzouliadis just trashes). I’ve never known all that much about Soviet History…basically what I maybe remembered from high school history (nothing?), and Martin Amis’s excellent Koba the Dread, so maybe it wouldn’t be as enlightening to someone who already knows more, but this book does a great job of portraying the crazed but patient and systematic mass murder Stalin inflicted on Russia for well over a decade. Interesting details about Henry Ford, Paul Robeson, and many others are highlights. Definitely worth checking out.
Morrissey’s Autobiography was a quick and entertaining read all the way through…far past the point where I started losing interest in the records. It’s funny how someone known for being so difficult can come across as so reasonable. Maybe there’s another side to the stories, but I liked his. He’s funny and charming throughout. I disagreed with so much of the praising and trashing of his own records, but it was fun to hear his take. I’ve always liked the Smiths, and a good amount of Morrissey’s solo stuff, but I know there’s an army of devotees who would consider me a peripheral fan. After this book I must say I’m all the more onboard.
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