Deal Me In Challenge: Learning to Be Me by Greg Egan

Card Drawn:

"The Jewel" is the path to immortality but at what cost?

My main issue with the Hard Science Fiction genre is that it can be frustratingly inaccessible with its high density of information and unrelenting technical jargon. Taken from Greg Egan's excellent collection entitled Axiomatic, "Learning to Be Me" finds a nice balance between the author's mind-bending scientific concepts and adept story-telling abilities. What does it mean to be human? is often at the heart of a lot of science fiction but here the author reverses the question: What is it like not to be human? Set in the not-so-distant future, this story introduces a new technology where the brain is eventually removed and replaced by a device called "The Jewel," allowing humans to live forever. The device is implanted at birth while the brain is still in the early stages of development and learns over time to replicate all the cognitive functions, sensory inputs and active neurons that make up a person's consciousness. Pretty cool stuff if you ask me.

Transhumanism is the primary ideological discourse explored in the story. Those individuals with the Jewel implant would technically still be human but that does not necessarily mean that they actually feel human. The protagonist undergoes the procedure and struggles to reconcile between his human self and Jewel self. Egan then delivers a terrifying scenario: what if a person undergoes "the switch" (as it is referred to in the story) but there is an error and they no longer have control over their new brain? The paradox of subjectivity engenders the protagonist's otherness and is dramatized by his intense paranoia. An intense cognitive dissonance gives way to the story's psychological realism as the protagonist is confronted by the ontological Other: himself. He is both human and nonhuman. The story's fatalistic implications seem to suggest that humanism is under threat by technological advancements and our impending dissolution is inevitable.

The first person narrative voice gives us direct access to his inner thoughts but this focalization is undermined by the nonhuman aspects of this technological modification. Therefore, who is the real person during this merging of consciousness? Egan's narrative ingenuity is most apparent with the shifting focalization that occurs simultaneously, making the first person narrative voice particularly tricky to pin down. Is the protagonist a reliable narrator or is the Jewel the unreliable narrative voice the entire time? Fascinating stuff.

Deal Me in Challenge: A Worn Path by Eudora Welty

Card Drawn:

'Sleep on, alligators, and blow your bubbles.' 

The clash between the rural Old South and the New South is a thematic concern in Eudora Welty's "A Worn Path," which reminded me a lot of Flannery O'Connor's stories who is also an American female southern writer. I wonder if the two authors ever crossed paths or corresponded with one another since they were both writing around the same time but their literary aesthetic is quite different. They might share similar subject matter such as racial inequality, poverty, white hegemony and isolation but I would argue that Eudora Welty's writing style possesses a lightheartedness mixed with dark humor. In contrast, O'Connor maintains a cynical edge, assiduously combining comedy with tragedy. She is known more for her "Southern Gothic" aesthetic, focusing on the grotesque, horror and violence. Additionally, there always tends to be a religious element to O'Connor's writing--more specifically, Christianity. She is interested in exploring spirituality, grace, faith, morality, sin and even employs religious parables. I have not read enough from Eudora Welty to examine how she tackles religion but in this particular story, she puts her own Southern spin on the folklore tradition by portraying an old black lady named Phoenix Jackson as a heroic mythical figure who sets out on an important quest. An air of mystery surrounds the old lady as she makes the dangerous trek through dangerous woods and rough terrain of the rural south to the small town of Natchez, Mississippi. The exact reason for her arduous journey is not made clear until the very end of the story. 

Welty successfully utilizes the compactness and economy of the short-story form to eschew key plot details, thereby creating a mysterious atmosphere of the unknown. Instead of providing detailed exposition that one would find in a novel, she evokes the reader's sense of wonder through brevity. The title of the story suggests that the old lady has made this journey many times before and is following a very specific path to her destination but why is she walking through the woods all alone? Why does she keep talking to herself in a cryptic language and communicating with her natural surroundings? Is she senile? Welty deliberately withholds key information to incite the reader's potential curiosity. She hints at a hidden magic or strange reality that permeates everyday experiences. Phoenix Jackson might seem like an ordinary old black woman but there is something enchanting about her as she slowly makes her way through these treacherous and mystical woods. Indeed, the first section of the story almost feels like a fairy-tale at times with her in the leading role of some fantasy adventure of her own design but becomes disillusioned once she reaches town. 

Despite Welty's honorable proficiency as a short-story writer, I found the ending of "A Worn Path" to be overly sentimental and lacking the emotional payoff intended by the author. Although I am glad to have finally read her, I much prefer Flannery O'Connor's depiction of the American south.

Deal Me in Challenge: Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius by Jorge Luis Borges

Card Drawn:

“Mirrors and copulation are abominable, since they both multiply the numbers of men...” 

Woah, what the hell did I just read? Seriously. My mind is still reeling.

Jorge Luis Borges is some kind of mad literary genius--his vast imaginative power and dazzling erudition is on another level.  Any attempt of mine to write a comprehensive review of this short-story would be an exercise in futility. "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" is easily one of the most challenging and ambitious literary works that I have ever encountered. Borges is heavily engaged in myth-making or mythopoesis as he takes on the herculean task of creating an entire imaginary planet similar to our own called Tlön but it exists in a parallel universe with a unique metaphysical hyper-reality. Or does it? Whether or not the author succeeds in his literary ambitions is debatable. 

If this premise wasn't complicated enough, Borges' discursive and self-reflexive 'mini-epic' is structured upon different narrative frameworks that all intersect or contradict one another. The best way for me to describe the story's overall architecture would be to think of it as a Chinese box or Russian nesting doll, encapsulating many different layers. Borges presents a labyrinth of philosophical ideas, paradoxes, intertextuality and detailed apocryphal histories all wrapped up in perplexing mystery surrounding this planet. 

However, reading Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" proved to be mentally exhausting and the exorbitant amount of information dumping is frustratingly tedious. I applaud Borges for writing such a wildly inventive story, but sadly, he is guilty of waxing poetic in such a obfuscating style that can be quite insufferable. Yet, I am positive there is method to his madness. Borges' stories are so complex and must be re-read in order to be fully appreciated, let alone understood. Thus, it is impossible for me at this current juncture to rate this story out of five stars without having read it multiple times so that I can at least formulate some coherent thoughts about why this is a brilliantly flawed piece of writing.

Deal Me in Challenge: When Everyone Was Pregnant by John Updike

Card Drawn:

Beach day, circa 1960's.

"When Everyone Was Pregnant" is quintessential John Updike: a highly formalized literary aesthetic of everyday life focusing on a male protagonist going through a mid-life crisis. Updike is a master of nuance and intricate craftsmanship. Many of his short stories, like this one, are solipsistic; they emphasize a more individualistic approach to story-telling with a first-person narrator reflecting on the past through a series of vignettes. The narrative technique of the montage has been perfected by Updike and this lyrical meditation is splendidly effective to generate powerful feelings of irrevocable loss.

The narrator comes from the conservative baby boomer generation and is struggling to ground himself in the present; he feels displaced, far removed from the drastically changing world. The wistful longing for those halcyon days when people "lived in fear and gratitude" becomes a repeated mantra. The so-called "American Dream" was attainable if you were white, privileged and working middle-class. The economy was booming, people had good jobs, you could afford a down-payment on a house and yes, women were having lots of babies because a man could actually afford to provide for his growing family (hence, the title of the story). It was difficult not to read this story and think of all those "OK BOOMER" memes that have cropped up recently. In most cases, a story like this about an old white dude criticizing the younger generation for screwing up society would irritate me to no end but Updike is such an amazing writer and can be forgiven. I was able to appreciate the distinct refinement of his writing; the meticulously constructed fragmentation of memories within the narrative montage that seem scattered but, upon closer examination, actually contain an aesthetic unity. He delicately walks a fine line between nostalgia and mawkishness, which is no easy task for any writer.

The narrator has become more conscious of his own forgetfulness and mortality. He seeks transcendence (or perhaps immortality) through the creative art of writing. Re-assembling and reclaiming the past is not only a strategy for him to make sense of the incomprehensible present but also serves as a defense mechanism against an uncertain future. This story exists within the idealized realm of memory and the inherent paradox is not lost on Updike: these memories have been romanticized but that does not make them any less poignant. 

Deal Me In Challenge: Explorers We by Philip K. Dick (1959)

Card Drawn:

"We're back! We're back!"

There really isn't a whole lot to say about this one other than it is your typical run-of-the-mill space travel short-story that one expects to find published in science-fiction pulp magazines of the mid 1950's to the late 1960's--entertaining enough for what it sets out to accomplish but similar to other pulp fiction from this era, fairly disposable. This is not a slight against Explorers We by Philip K. Dick or 'the pulps' in general, which is not often taken seriously as a distinguished literary art form. These stories appeal to a mass audience; they are concerned with adventure and excitement as opposed to edifying the reader with profound insights or imparting scientific knowledge. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that! Any literary work should be able to stand on its own merits, regardless of genre.

Philip K. Dick was a very prolific writer and his influence on the science-fiction genre cannot be overstated. He still remains one of my favorite writers and is usually quite reliable whenever I need my fix for science-fiction. I chose Explorers We at random from Volume 4 of his Collected Stories and while the story was enjoyable enough for the most part, it did not leave any lasting impression and will quickly fade from memory. Recently, I have been reading the excellent Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury that was released almost 10 years prior and deals with similar subject matter of space-travel to Mars. There is no doubt in my mind that Philip K. Dick's story is influenced by Bradbury's work but he falls short of successfully paying homage to one of the landmarks in the genre. The premise feels very Bradburyesque and would fit right in with the Martian Chronicles: a group of astronauts crash back to Earth after their mission to Mars only to discover that they are not celebrated as heroes by the local townspeople. They cannot understand why everyone runs away from them in horror until they are confronted by the FBI...

Again, the overall narrative provides just enough intrigue to be entertaining but there is not much else to reflect upon once it is all said and done. Philip K. Dick has written countless better short-stories that are far more provocative and compelling. 

Back to the Classics Challenge 2020

Thank you Karen from Books and Chocolate for hosting this reading challenge! Not only will this will be a great opportunity for me to get back into reading the "Classics" again but also to continue writing reviews more frequently. My initial goal when starting this blog back in 2011 was to read as many classics as possible, even joining the Classics Club that proved to be quite rewarding even though I fell short of reading 50 works over the course of five years. Nonetheless, I am hoping to redeem myself with this new challenge and maybe even discover some new favorite classics in the process. 

Here are the 12 categories to choose from and my selections (subject to change): 

1. 19th Century Classic: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

2. 20th Century Classic: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe 

3. Classic by a Woman Author: Orlando by Virginia Woolf

4. Classic in Translation: The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoeyevsky

5. Classic by a Person of Color: Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass 

6. A Genre Classic: The Time Machine by H.G. Wells

7. Classic with a Person's Name in the Title: Moby Dick by Herman Melville

8. Classic with a Place in the Title: East of Eden by John Steinbeck

9. Classic with Nature in the Title: TBD.

10. Classic About a Family: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

11. Abandoned Classic: The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow

12. Classic Adaptation: North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

Happy reading everyone!

Deal Me in Challenge: The Year of Spaghetti by Haruki Murakami

Card Drawn:

"1971 was the Year of Spaghetti."

I have been anxiously waiting to draw another diamond card so that I can finally read something by Haruki Murakami and "The Year of Spaghetti" did not disappoint. I absolutely loved this short-story! It took me a while to warm up to him but he is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. There are not too many gifted writers who come to mind that are able to perfectly encapsulate the overwhelming sadness from loneliness and self-alienation with such poignant brevity. He cultivates a concise and elliptical style through accessible language, transforming the banalities of ordinary life into something magical. His beautifully constructed sentences pack an emotional punch with only a few lyrical brush strokes. 

On the surface, a story about a guy cooking spaghetti in his apartment might sound pretty dull but somehow Murakami takes this simple premise and molds it into an illuminating and meaningful whole. For those who might not be familiar with Murakami, nothing is ever simple despite their outward appearance. His stories are not constrained by the narrative conventions of plot; rather, they ebb and flow with unpredictable spontaneity like a jazz piece. Dreams and reality are not always so distinguishable from one another--the defamiliarization of objective reality being a distinctive pattern in his work. Ambiguity and equivocal endings abound. Yet, "Year of Spaghetti" is one of his more understated and straightforward narratives without any encounters of the uncanny or metaphysical intrusions. The short-story's brevity engenders a heightened intensity with an unexpected tenderness of vision towards suffocating loneliness. 

The protagonist's obsession with cooking spaghetti is not only a matter of routine but an important ritual, providing his life with purpose, a source of comfort against the hostile outside world. However, more importantly, it becomes a coping mechanism to heal a deep-rooted pain and unhappiness. He has retreated into social isolation and become a hermit, rarely leaving the apartment unless to presumably re-stock on spaghetti. Avoiding human contact and directing all his energy into cooking spaghetti is a distraction from confronting his own personal struggles. He feels empty, alone, numb and crippled by self-alienation. He imagines inviting people over for dinner such as a girl he has a crush on or movie actors from the golden age of Hollywood such as William Holden and Jennifer Jones. Murakami might be considered a "Japanese writer" but he evinces cosmopolitan sensibilities so it is not uncommon to encounter many references to American pop culture in his work. There is even a literary reference to J.G. Ballard, a science-fiction writer known mostly for his short-stories.   

So, the protagonist is living his simple and sad life until he receives a phone call from a distant female friend looking for her boyfriend, which completely turns his world upside down. He no longer feels safe within his protective bubble. Solving the mystery behind the missing boyfriend is irrelevant. The emphasis is on the character's psychological state of mind; his reaction and emotional response to the girl's unwarranted imposition that disrupts the natural order of his self-contained little world of cooking spaghetti. We get the sense that perhaps he has romantic feelings for this girl and is harboring resentment towards her for choosing to be with someone else instead of him but their personal history remains ambiguous. The conversation on the phone is quite fascinating, revealing his aversion to intimacy and human connection. He experiences an epiphany after hanging up the phone:

"Thinking about spaghetti that boils eternally but is never done is a sad, sad thing."

This is such a great metaphor because much like the endlessly boiling spaghetti in the pot that is never fully cooked, he too is living a depressing life in this liminal space of paralysis and awakening. Even though the story is incredibly sad, it is not all doom and gloom. Murakami provides a glimpse of hope by the end that perhaps the man's life does eventually get better. "The Year of Spaghetti" is al dente, a savory and delectable short-story that makes me hungry to devour more of Murakami's fine writing. Sorry for the incessant food puns, it was too tempting.

Deal Me in Challenge: Subject to Change by Lorrie Moore

Card Drawn:

"We're all suckers for a happy ending."

Pain and humor are intrinsically linked in Lorrie Moore's "Subject to Change," my first introduction to this author. The interjection of jokes, puns, witty remarks and humorous digressions are strategically utilized by the two main characters in the story as a coping mechanism for heartbreak, internal anguish and unresolved trauma. Instead of opening up about their true feelings and being vulnerable with each other, they prefer to circumvent the awkward tension with playful humor, thereby steering the conversation away from establishing any real connection or intimacy. As the popular aphorism goes: sometimes laughter is the best medicine. 

The unnamed female protagonist arranges to meet up with a man named Tom at a restaurant in France. As they engage in lengthy conversation, their sad personal history is slowly revealed through various comedic anecdotes, inferences, flash-forwards and flashbacks. I could not help but be reminded of Ernest Hemingway's classic "Hills Like White Elephants" that consists almost entirely of dialogue between an American man and woman traveling abroad in Europe with the emphasis being on what is left unsaid. That is where the comparison ends because Moore is not a minimalist; she provides just enough information to fill in the gaps whereas Hemingway's story is wildly ambiguous, forcing the reader to deduce what the couple is discussing by reading between the lines and analyzing the subtext beneath the surface (his whole"ice-berg" theory). I would argue that Lorrie Moore is a postmodern feminist writer since she engages in feminist discourses but in an irreverent and subversive way. Indeed, I would go as far to say that she has more (sorry, bad pun) in common with John Updike, especially with her use of the fragmented narrative, vignettes, the exploration of memory and shifting the comedic tone into melancholic despair. Themes of  unrequited love and failed relationships are also common features in Updike's writing that we see here as well. However, Moore sets herself apart from both authors by walking a fine line between mockery and seriousness. Although her highly polished prose might not leave much to the imagination, I found her unique dark sense of humor and wordplay amusing. Call me old-fashioned but I love a good pun and there are plenty of good ones to be found here. She does have a great ear for dialogue but sometimes it veers into quirkiness territory.

Moreover, the story is also implicitly political, criticizing the Iraq war during the early 2000's. Tom is a member of the US military and suffers from a lot of traumatic experiences during his time in the Middle-East. He is on temporary leave and meets the woman in France before having to go back on assignment. Later on we find out that he undergoes a clandestine operation overseen by the military to cure his nagging headaches (PTSD?) by implanting a chip in his brain but suffers greatly during the recovery process. Although Tom's gradual failing health and eventual rejection of the woman is terribly sad, Moore counterbalances this sorrow with humor. For example, the woman makes several references to Tom being the 'Manchurian Candidate' and suggests that he might be at the center of a government conspiracy. Perhaps one can criticize Moore for being insensitive or flippant but I believe she is interested in showing how women use humor to repress or deflect their pain. Her unconditional love for Tom is not reciprocated and it was a little frustrating to me as to why she decided to waste her time pursuing him for all those years since he was not interested in having a relationship with her in the the first place. Was it out of boredom, loneliness, lust, a sense of adventure or did she genuinely love him? I am actually leaning more towards her being seduced by his charming wit and suffering from disillusionment in thinking that she has finally found "the one." Girl, you deserve better.

Nonetheless, the ending is surprisingly poignant and Moore successfully manages to bring the narrative full circle by providing a glimpse of when they first meet at a house party, flirting in the kitchen over empty bottles of wine. The woman comes across as a hopeless romantic whereas Tom is a realist about not having a future together: "We're all suckers for a happy ending." The implication, of course, that he is only interested in having casual sex with her but she is obviously looking for something more serious. Their relationship was doomed from the start. 

Deal Me in Challenge: The Wife's Story by Ursula Le Guin

Card Drawn:

Mouth is alive with juices like wine and I'm hungry like the wolf!

Oddly enough, this is a very sad story yet probably one of the more enjoyable and cleverly written that I have encountered thus far with the Deal Me in Challenge. I totally fell for the ruse, exactly as the author intended. Well played, Ursula. Well played.

This is going to be a very short review because much of the story's power and emotional impact rests almost entirely on its meticulously crafted literary conceit. Thus, providing any plot details would ruin the fun. While some readers may find the story's artifice too gimmicky, Le Guin's specific use of language and the narrative voice is so skillfully written, playfully subverting the reader's expectations. As readers, we make certain assumptions and might not always pay attention to specific word association, which Le Guin methodically exploits to pull the rug from underneath the reader. The ending really sneaks up on you and forces the reader to re-evaluate everything leading up until that pivotal moment. I immediately had to read the story again to see how Le Guin successfully baited me into a sense of complacency. She really got me good.