Another Whine Bites the Dust

Earlier this week I finished "The Anthologist" by Nicholson Baker. This was the next book on my list of the now 45 fiction books I am reading this year. Several years ago Mr. Baker wrote a book called "Vox." I remember this book because everyone said it was very controversial. It was about phone sex, which, as Americans, we're not supposed to talk about in public. I got caught up in the "ooohhh...giggle, giggle, we can't read that" baloney that the news was all atwitter about and bought it. I hated it. It wasn't really about phone sex. Or maybe it was, somewhat. All I know and remember is that I was upset that it wasn't as racy, or controversial as I thought it would be. It was also not well written and it is now hidden somewhere in my boxes of books and if I don't happen to find it, I will not be too upset.

So lets just say I probably went into "The Anthologist" with a little bit of pre-conceived, "I'm not going to like this" attitude. But I'm always willing to give an author another shot. Especially because this one was about poetry and I have loved poetry, and some poets, for most of my life. Well, I read the first chapter and made a face. Here we had Paul Chowder who had just lost his girlfriend because he was supposed to be writing an introduction to an anthology of poetry and he couldn't get himself to do it. She was tired of waiting for him to do it, or do anything in fact, that she moved out. So here was another book about another middle-aged whiner. He whined about being alone, he whined about not being able to write, he whined about having to travel, he whined about free verse. Well boo f*ing hoo. I whined because I kept reading the book. It was short, thank goodness, and I could read a chapter or two on the train in the morning and again on the way home. He did have some clever alliterations in there like thinking another poets work was a "firkin of flaccidness." But he also had weird parts that didn't really belong in the book like the time he ran into Edgar Allen Poe in the grocery store and asked him about The Raven. Not sure if this was a dream or if it was just a daydream or he actually thought he ran into Edgar Allen Poe. He also kept falling down and cutting himself, which of course, meant he had to call his ex to come take care of him. In the end, he wrote the introduction, started dating the ex again, and became a carpenter instead of a poet/teacher. Another ho hum ending to a life I really cared nothing about.

The next book in my list is "The Art Student's War." I haven't bought it yet, but I just received a free kindle download for my Mac, meaning I could read the book on my computer. I know, all my friends in publishing are screaming "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" right now. I may try it out. It's cheaper than the actual book, plus, I spend enough time on my laptop that it would be just as easy to carry that on the train as it would the book. It's just an experiment. And I didn't have to buy a Kindle in order to try it out, so all in all, I'm only out $15, rather than hundreds. I have not heard of the author of "The Art Student's War" so I cannot go into this book with any prior ideas. That is a good beginning right there. Also, its about a woman, so hopefully no whining.