Sit back and clear out some time on your schedule - I've got a lot on my mind and this is going to be a long post.
First and foremost, North Korea has The Bomb. A nuclear weapon was detonated shortly after 10:30 this morning (Korean time) in an underground testing facility located in the north-eastern quadrant of North Korea. You are all just as capable as I am of going to Google News and checking out the headlines, and then you'll be as much up to speed as I am. On the off chance you're interested in a different take on reactions to the test, here are some blogs that'll be following this quite closely:
Honestly, my immediate concern is not safety (I mean, it's not like the Norks have shown astonishing success with their missile capabilities or anything, right?) - I'm worried about my money. Supposedly the Korean Won is falling. I haven't seen any evidence of this on xe.com as yet, but currency falls are predicted. I predict a trip to the bank to transfer some of my cash out of the country tomorrow morning. I also predict lots of profanity directed from me to KJI if he screws with my projected mortgage payments.
But let's move on. Someone wrote to ask me my opinion of The Foreign Student by Susan Choi, which Gwen gave to me early on in this adventure. I meant to write about it right after I finished reading it... but as that was nearly two months ago, it's obvious that didn't work out as I'd planned! Anyhow, for those who missed it when I first mentioned this book, it's the tale of a Korean foreign-exchange student who arrives at the University of the South, located in Sewanee, TN shortly after the Korean War. With Sewanee being my alma mater, and with me being currently located in Korea and all, I was definitely excited about the book.
I read it very quickly, and found myself quite engrossed in the tales of the main character Chang/Chuck's survival during the Korean War. I don't know enough about the Korean War to know if the horrific details penned by Choi are accurate; however, they were gripping and horrifying (and given the news of the day... perhaps we should all give the book a quick run-through).
Sadly, I was somewhat disappointed by Choi's description of Sewanee and life at the University. While when she wrote about places like "the Chancellor's residence" or "the Quad" or "the Chapel" I could picture them perfectly... but not because of her descriptive powers - it was because I spent four years of my life in sight of these places. The descriptions of Korea and the War were so vivid, and yet if I hadn't spent four years of my life in Sewanee, TN, I'm not sure what kind of image of Sewanee I'd have acquired from this book. I suppose one could argue that Sewanee was necessary only because the story needed a name for a private, all male (in the 1950s) university for a backdrop; however, to me Sewanee was both formative and oppressive, a pastoral retreat and a prison. I loved it and I hated it, and yet I just didn't feel any of that in The Foreign Student. I don't think this would affect the enjoyment of this book for you non-Sewanee-alumni. (Although if any Sewanee folks out there have read it, I'd definitely be interested in hearing your opinions!)
A while back I was fortunate to receive a copy Colin Thubron’s In Siberia, and I dove right in with excitement. I’m pleased to say that the book was every bit as good as I’d hoped. To you Russophiles out there: this is a book you definitely must read. To those of you out there with any interest in Russia at all, or with an interest in traveling to remote lands, I recommend this book to you as well. Thubron’s prose is incredible, and throughout the book I found passages describing with incredible accuracy and beauty, things which I had seen during my brief foray into Siberia. His descriptions of the vast, desolate beauty of the Siberian countryside far outdid anything I produced. Here’s an example:
At the head of the pass, and at springs along the way, the pine trees were dripping with rags in honor of the spirits. Spirits infected the waters and peaks of all this country. Neither Christianity nor Communism had dislodged them. They were too pervasive, and too old. The rags shivered in the pines – requests, tributes – and the river-beds glistened with coins. Here and there hundred-ruble notes caught among the stones, pulled free again, floated away. (p. 82)
I must admit, however, that I was disappointed by the fact that Thubron neglected to stop at Olkhon Island, one of my favorite places on the planet. He mentioned the island briefly, in regards to his trip past it by boat as he crossed Lake Baikal:
By noon the far shore has misted away, and as the hydrofoil enters the channel between the western bank and the long, volcanic island of Olkhon, you are sailing over silk. It is the last voyage of the year, and the boat seems almost empty. The island is bitter and rainless: an ancient stronghold of shamanism. The Evenk knew that the sea god Dianda lived there, and the Buryats peopled it with an evil spirit, the voice of its seismic groaning. The shores are unloosened even here, without rock or weed, and leak out only a salt or mineral trickle. Olkhon is in fact a mile high underwater mountain, and you are sailing over the lake’s abyss. (p. 159)
That was it for Olkhon. To me, Olkhon was definitely worthy of more exploration, both physically and with the written word. However, given the sheer vastness of Siberia, I can forgive Thubron for not stopping at every possible destination.
I also found myself wondering about the ease with which Thubron traveled throughout Siberia. For those of you who have never been to Russia, let me just say that it is *not* an easy place for tourists to navigate. At every stop one encounters bureaucratic hoops through which one must jump in order to do just about anything (i.e., buy train tickets, stay in a hotel). It also helps exponentially to be able to speak Russian. While South Koreans are generally very helpful to non-Korean-speaking foreigners, Russians (especially those who work in places – such as ticket-selling offices – who frequently come into contact with tourists) tend to range from brusque to unhelpful... especially to those who lack the ability to communicate in Russian. Thubron obviously speaks Russian well (or, despite the fact that he claimed to be traveling alone, he had an interpreter – one or the other), and I wish he had mentioned how he had learned Russian, and why. The further I delved into his work, the more I began to wonder about him. Unfortunately, the book didn’t resolve this mystery, nor did an internet search. Thubron wandered into many cities, towns and villages across Siberia – often (seemingly) at the spur of the moment – without any reservations, plans, or ideas as to where he might stay the night. My friends and I only went to one city in Russia (Tula) without definite plans as to where we would stay the night, and between a lack of rooms in the city, and the initial unwillingness of the staff at the one hotel in Tula with a vacancy to accommodate foreigners, we almost didn’t get a place to stay. Either Thubron had incredible luck, or his accommodations weren’t arranged as spontaneously as it seemed in his book. (Granted, these little nit-picky details do not in any way detract from the beauty of this work... I simply worry that someone wishing to travel in Siberia after reading Thubron’s work might be a little misled with regards to the ease (or lack thereof) of travel inside the Russian Federation.)
Before I left for Korea, I purchased a *lot* of books, and mailed them to my address here in Korea. They went by slow boat, so they only arrived a couple of weeks ago. One of the books I’d purchased was The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova, which my mom had highly recommended. I’m *definitely* going to have to second her on this. Now, if you’re not the type to enjoy a 650 page escapist vampire-tale, this might not be the book for you... although on the other hand, it might be. For some reason, I’ve found a lot of websites out there comparing this book to The DaVinci Code. Honestly, the only similarities I found between the two were A) They’re books, and B) They’re historical fiction. Now, as much as certain people will laugh at me, I have to admit that actually enjoyed The DaVinci Code; for an airport book, it was pretty entertaining. (And I'm always happy to celebrate things that shake up the Christian fundies.) But to those of you who disparaged DaVinci, no worries! The Historian far outclasses The DaVinci Code. I have no idea whether or not one can purchase The Historian in an airport, but despite its spot on the New York Times bestseller list, I would never classify it as an airport book... it’s too well written and intelligent.
When I was little, my father read Bram Stoker’s Dracula to me. By the time I hit the sixth grade, I’d re-read the book so many times that the cover had fallen off. I still re-read it periodically. I love a good vampire tale, and Bram Stoker will forever remain the master. (If for some reason you haven’t read Dracula, then stop reading this and go buy yourself a copy.) However, Kostova comes a close second to Stoker in the creation of a believable vampire tale. Additionally, she uses the same writing style as Stoker (a combination of letters, journals and reminiscences) – one of my personal favorite styles – to tell her tale. Her prose is excellent, and her descriptions of the countryside in Romania and Bulgaria make me yearn to travel through that region.
Of course, few books are perfect, and there were two very small things which annoyed me very, very slightly, and they are as follows:
A character named Baba Yanka makes a short appearance near the end of the book. All Russophiles out there should immediately think what I thought, that this was a not-so-clever reference to Baba Yaga. I’m not sure if it was or not. For one thing, they were in Bulgaria, and I don’t know if Baba Yanka would be an acceptable name for an elderly Bulgarian woman (Petya? Help!) Also, there’s a section where two of the characters are speaking Bulgarian to one another, and I’m not sure if it’s correct or not. Let’s just say that if it were supposed to be in Russian, it would be incorrect. (Petya, can one say mnogo star in Bulgarian to mean very old?) I can accept “star” as a possible Bulgarian variation of staryi, but shouldn’t it be ochen, not mnogo? Kostova, while not Slavic herself, is married to a Bulgarian, so I suppose she would have access to accurate Bulgarian. Perhaps I’m simply letting my Russian interfere.
Anyhow, this was one of those books that I found myself staying awake late into the night reading, thinking, “just one more chapter, then I’ll stop” until something like 3:30 in the morning. Given how much I LOVE to sleep, that’s definitely a sign that this is a good read.
One little anecdotal story for you, before I move on: Early on in the story, one of the main characters receives a “warning” (I won’t spoil the book for you by giving details – let’s just say that it was very creepy, and had it happened to me, I would have been crying hysterically.) Anyhow, shortly after midnight, right as I was in the middle of that part of the book, Toto the rabbit decided to do his usual beat-on-my-door routine. I freely admit to screaming and jumping about a foot.
At the head of the pass, and at springs along the way, the pine trees were dripping with rags in honor of the spirits. Spirits infected the waters and peaks of all this country. Neither Christianity nor Communism had dislodged them. They were too pervasive, and too old. The rags shivered in the pines – requests, tributes – and the river-beds glistened with coins. Here and there hundred-ruble notes caught among the stones, pulled free again, floated away. (p. 82)
I must admit, however, that I was disappointed by the fact that Thubron neglected to stop at Olkhon Island, one of my favorite places on the planet. He mentioned the island briefly, in regards to his trip past it by boat as he crossed Lake Baikal:
By noon the far shore has misted away, and as the hydrofoil enters the channel between the western bank and the long, volcanic island of Olkhon, you are sailing over silk. It is the last voyage of the year, and the boat seems almost empty. The island is bitter and rainless: an ancient stronghold of shamanism. The Evenk knew that the sea god Dianda lived there, and the Buryats peopled it with an evil spirit, the voice of its seismic groaning. The shores are unloosened even here, without rock or weed, and leak out only a salt or mineral trickle. Olkhon is in fact a mile high underwater mountain, and you are sailing over the lake’s abyss. (p. 159)
That was it for Olkhon. To me, Olkhon was definitely worthy of more exploration, both physically and with the written word. However, given the sheer vastness of Siberia, I can forgive Thubron for not stopping at every possible destination.
I also found myself wondering about the ease with which Thubron traveled throughout Siberia. For those of you who have never been to Russia, let me just say that it is *not* an easy place for tourists to navigate. At every stop one encounters bureaucratic hoops through which one must jump in order to do just about anything (i.e., buy train tickets, stay in a hotel). It also helps exponentially to be able to speak Russian. While South Koreans are generally very helpful to non-Korean-speaking foreigners, Russians (especially those who work in places – such as ticket-selling offices – who frequently come into contact with tourists) tend to range from brusque to unhelpful... especially to those who lack the ability to communicate in Russian. Thubron obviously speaks Russian well (or, despite the fact that he claimed to be traveling alone, he had an interpreter – one or the other), and I wish he had mentioned how he had learned Russian, and why. The further I delved into his work, the more I began to wonder about him. Unfortunately, the book didn’t resolve this mystery, nor did an internet search. Thubron wandered into many cities, towns and villages across Siberia – often (seemingly) at the spur of the moment – without any reservations, plans, or ideas as to where he might stay the night. My friends and I only went to one city in Russia (Tula) without definite plans as to where we would stay the night, and between a lack of rooms in the city, and the initial unwillingness of the staff at the one hotel in Tula with a vacancy to accommodate foreigners, we almost didn’t get a place to stay. Either Thubron had incredible luck, or his accommodations weren’t arranged as spontaneously as it seemed in his book. (Granted, these little nit-picky details do not in any way detract from the beauty of this work... I simply worry that someone wishing to travel in Siberia after reading Thubron’s work might be a little misled with regards to the ease (or lack thereof) of travel inside the Russian Federation.)
Before I left for Korea, I purchased a *lot* of books, and mailed them to my address here in Korea. They went by slow boat, so they only arrived a couple of weeks ago. One of the books I’d purchased was The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova, which my mom had highly recommended. I’m *definitely* going to have to second her on this. Now, if you’re not the type to enjoy a 650 page escapist vampire-tale, this might not be the book for you... although on the other hand, it might be. For some reason, I’ve found a lot of websites out there comparing this book to The DaVinci Code. Honestly, the only similarities I found between the two were A) They’re books, and B) They’re historical fiction. Now, as much as certain people will laugh at me, I have to admit that actually enjoyed The DaVinci Code; for an airport book, it was pretty entertaining. (And I'm always happy to celebrate things that shake up the Christian fundies.) But to those of you who disparaged DaVinci, no worries! The Historian far outclasses The DaVinci Code. I have no idea whether or not one can purchase The Historian in an airport, but despite its spot on the New York Times bestseller list, I would never classify it as an airport book... it’s too well written and intelligent.
When I was little, my father read Bram Stoker’s Dracula to me. By the time I hit the sixth grade, I’d re-read the book so many times that the cover had fallen off. I still re-read it periodically. I love a good vampire tale, and Bram Stoker will forever remain the master. (If for some reason you haven’t read Dracula, then stop reading this and go buy yourself a copy.) However, Kostova comes a close second to Stoker in the creation of a believable vampire tale. Additionally, she uses the same writing style as Stoker (a combination of letters, journals and reminiscences) – one of my personal favorite styles – to tell her tale. Her prose is excellent, and her descriptions of the countryside in Romania and Bulgaria make me yearn to travel through that region.
Of course, few books are perfect, and there were two very small things which annoyed me very, very slightly, and they are as follows:
A character named Baba Yanka makes a short appearance near the end of the book. All Russophiles out there should immediately think what I thought, that this was a not-so-clever reference to Baba Yaga. I’m not sure if it was or not. For one thing, they were in Bulgaria, and I don’t know if Baba Yanka would be an acceptable name for an elderly Bulgarian woman (Petya? Help!) Also, there’s a section where two of the characters are speaking Bulgarian to one another, and I’m not sure if it’s correct or not. Let’s just say that if it were supposed to be in Russian, it would be incorrect. (Petya, can one say mnogo star in Bulgarian to mean very old?) I can accept “star” as a possible Bulgarian variation of staryi, but shouldn’t it be ochen, not mnogo? Kostova, while not Slavic herself, is married to a Bulgarian, so I suppose she would have access to accurate Bulgarian. Perhaps I’m simply letting my Russian interfere.
Anyhow, this was one of those books that I found myself staying awake late into the night reading, thinking, “just one more chapter, then I’ll stop” until something like 3:30 in the morning. Given how much I LOVE to sleep, that’s definitely a sign that this is a good read.
One little anecdotal story for you, before I move on: Early on in the story, one of the main characters receives a “warning” (I won’t spoil the book for you by giving details – let’s just say that it was very creepy, and had it happened to me, I would have been crying hysterically.) Anyhow, shortly after midnight, right as I was in the middle of that part of the book, Toto the rabbit decided to do his usual beat-on-my-door routine. I freely admit to screaming and jumping about a foot.
And lastly: A few days ago, I opened up Google News and saw the headline Russian Journalist Slain... and I knew before even clicking on the headline that it would be Anna Politkovskaya. For years Politkovskaya was a harsh critic of Putin's regime, and she did some hard-core investigative journalism into war crimes in Chechnya. (Some of her books) Politkovskaya's actions caused her to be the recipient of numerous death-threats, and one prior attempt on her life. NPR's All Things Considered had a short segment on her following her assassination. I recommend listening to it. Prior to her death, Politkovskaya was working on an expose of torture of prisoners in Chechnya, and as such, there's speculation that this in particular was the reason for her death.... hmmmm. Certainly not out of the realm of possibility. I'm following Neeka's Backlog for updates.
7 comments:
I am still in disbelief about Anna Politkovskaya. To me and to many others, she seemed invincible. It's crushing to the morale to know that her life has been cut so short...
-Brooke S.
pbs.blog-city.com
I too wanted to visit Bulgaria after reading The Historian; and expecially after reading about a movie pertaining to Bulgarians' reaction to the Nazi treatment of the Jews. I can't remember the name of the movie, but there is a Peter Sellers movie of the same name, and that's all I could find on eBay. Has anyone seen the movie, or can tell me the name?
Definitely ochen' staryi if in Russian.
People seem to be skipping over the fact that Politkovskaya's murder happened on Putin's birthday. It would seem that someone thought of it as a macabre birthday gift, given her criticism of the Kremlin. Given that it was a contract killing, I don't buy that it wasn't meant to happen on his birthday.
Dear Jane,
Just letting you know that I miss your Russia-related blogs, and indulge in the ones you do write nowadays. Not that there is something wrong with Korea. It is just so that I do not smile in familiarity with various phenomena. Anyway, keep up the good work!
Yours,
Vilhelm
I found the movie my mom was referring to: The Optimists.
I too enjoyed The Historian , but I didn't really like the ending - it seemed rather anticlimactic.
If you're looking for other good vampire reads Charlaine Harris is pretty good, and along the same fantasy lines Jim Butcher has a good series on wizards The Dresden Files that SciFi has picked up as a series. However they are definitely not the same style as Kostova.
I read "The Foreign Student" too, and I liked it, but you could tell it was Choi's first novel. I mean, the descriptions were okay and all, but . . .
SPOILERS!!!!
. . . the romance felt forced. I couldn't figure out what made Chuck so appealing. His personality was duller than a butter knife.
END SPOILERS.
Overall I enjoyed it and would read it again. The book reminded me a bit of "Bel Canto" by Ann Patchett, which also dealt with cultures clashing (and romancing).
I strongly recommend it--something tells me you'd like it.
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