Skip to main content

A person who will not read has no advantage over one who can not read.



John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row is one of the revered books of the American canon and takes its name from a street lined with sardine fisheries in Monterey. The novel revolves around the lives of its inhabitants: Chinese grocers; bums; bouncers; prostitutes; the local marine biologist (!) and other assorted chancers and ne’er-do-wells. As much a series of vignettes as a coherent narrative, the book does a supreme job reconstructing a certain time and place that seems very distant from the world today. As such, it is a masterpiece.

It is incredibly funny, yet surprisingly poignant. As ever Steinbeck does a superb job recreating both the exuberance of community and the loneliness of the individual. This really is a fantastic book, one of the best I’ve read in a while. Extremely highly recommended!

Second up is something a little different, Philip K. Dick’s Time Out of Joint. First published in 1959, the book captures a lot of Dick's recurrent themes concerning the nature of reality and the challenge that comes when ordinary people in ordinary lives suddenly begin feeling that the world is unravelling around them. To say any more would very much give the game away, but it’s enough to say that it all gets quite odd.

A decent read that touches on a lot of interesting points, I’d be happy to recommend this.
Labels:

Comments

Tom said…
i've become quite a fan of PKD lately and have even felt him creeping into some of my own meager scratchings...i'll look this one up.
25 March 2012 at 12:15
Kris McCracken said…
This one isn't too bad. Great set-up but turned and ended a bit quickly for my liking...
25 March 2012 at 16:40
Tom said…
the World Jones Made, and Do Androids Dream... are 2 of my favs so far
27 March 2012 at 02:35
Roddy said…
Lovers Leap?
29 March 2012 at 18:53
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...
5 comments
Read more

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...
38 comments
Read more

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.
36 comments
Read more