Recently Mark Lanegan passed away at the age of 57, from some sort of health complications. He had lived through a long history of drug use before he had gotten clean, and then lived through a bout with COVID and wrote about that experience in another memoir. I was looking forward to catching up with his past by reading this book, and it goes back from his childhood through the formation and dissolution of the Screaming Trees, and finally ends with him starting to get back on his feet after a critical intervention from an old friend.

I’ve been a Screaming Trees fan for a long time, and some of the songs on their Uncle Anesthesia album got me through middle school. I’ve seen them live a few times. Once at a mainly empty show in San Francisco we exchanged a nod in the middle of a song – mostly he sang the whole night with his eyes closed and leaning heavily on the microphone stand. I didn’t really know much about the members of the band, but I knew I liked his voice and the guitar heavy sound they played.

This book drops right into the story, and the story is mainly about his struggles with alcohol, drugs, and a seriously fucked-up view of the world as his to do with as he wishes. They say “don’t meet your heroes” and I think this is a prime example – I could tell right away that I wouldn’t have liked this guy at all. And it was not just me – Lanegan is an asshole to just about everyone, and as his alcohol and drug addictions get worse, so does he.

This would be a sort of standard “drugs are bad/fall of the rock star” story if it weren’t for his tone of total honesty here. He tells his story without hiding the disturbing stuff (or maybe there is more disturbing stuff than this – not sure) and he also tells about the highlights. His highlights were often just having sex with a lot of cute girls or meeting musicians that he admires, but we have to remember that he was just in his early 20’s when these events happened.

Throughout the book he explains how he and his band mates wrote songs, came up with lyrics, and were otherwise inspired to make their music. Suitably as he slides deeper into addiction the book starts to focus on just getting his next fix – the shows he was playing or the albums they were recording were just ways to get more money to get more drugs.

There isn’t a lot of pity, and only towards the end there is a little bit of self-reflection about his behavior. He often uses self-deprecation in these stories from the road, and I think that shows that he understood afterwards how awful his behavior was, and for me that was enough to kind of forgive all the heartbreaking things he did.

With the combination of Mark Lanegan’s passing and my reading of this book I think I’ll be diving into his music again to give it more listening time. Luckily he left around 10 solo albums, many of which I haven’t heard, so there are other ways to remember him.

Next I’m re-reading Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton.

I’ve read The Martian by Andy Weir, and I was expecting much of the same in this book. There are a lot of similarities, with a nerdy protagonist full of science facts and math skills. He uses these skills to survive, and to try to save the human race. All of this I expected, but there was a fundamental twist that made this book a little different. Thanks to this, I enjoyed the experience rather than feeling like it was just a recycled plot.

I don’t want to spoil anything here, so I think it is enough to say that the book was enjoyable, extremely nerdy (how much is too much?), and unfortunately suffered sometimes from the weight of all this science. It must have been tough to strike the right balance between hardcore science for the scientists, and simple easy-to-understand science for the layman readers. He did a good job overall, but sometimes it was tough to keep the story moving at a comfortable pace (for me).

Next is Sing Backwards and Weep by Mark Lanegan.

There are a lot of books out there on the differences between intelligence and wisdom – this one illustrates those differences very well while telling the tale of a group of young students attending university at a small private school.

Dark events are happening outside of the main character’s view – many of the major turning points and events are heard about through other people, and to me that was a little unsatisfying. I thought since we were hearing about them (instead of experiencing them) that there would be a twist or surprise, but, uh, not really.

The writing was quite good, however, and I really liked that it was written in a way that made it difficult to understand exactly when this story takes place. The 70’s? 90’s? The timeframe isn’t important, so we focus more on the creepy characters.

There is a lot of drugs and alcohol, bad decisions, insecurity, riches and class markers, and certain grim events that when combined made for an interesting but ultimately gloomy story. Maybe I would have gotten more out of it if I had read it in my high school or university days. Reading about people partying all night and sleeping through classes and entire days recovering just made me feel like an old man – you kids should be more responsible!

Generally I liked the book, and the writing, but not so much the story and how it was revealed to the reader.

Next I’m reading Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir. Time for some nerdy science (fiction)!

I’ve read a few columns by Frank Bruni in the New York Times but I haven’t read any of his other books – so this was a pleasant surprise. This book is about the author’s experience with a rare disease affecting his optic nerve in one eye, that may or may not lead to blindness in the future.

This serves as a sort of awakening, and most of the book is an exploration on not only the loss of sight but also on loss in general. There are many interviews and profiles of other people who have dealt with loss and growing older, the effects of old age and losing loved ones. Bruni’s writing is beautiful and occasionally poetic – and he weaves together stories of his life and the lives of others to show that life is what you make it.

There were parts of this book that I liked more than others – some felt like they were tacked on as an afterthought – but overall the message gets through, and I think this book would be good for anyone who has suffered loss or is getting older (which is just about everyone, isn’t it?)

There is some great writing here – I’m definitely going to go back and read more of his work – especially about his stint as The NY Times food critic.

Next I’m reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt.

It has been a while since I’ve read a straight-forward thriller with a serial killer running around. This book features a competent and intelligent main character, interesting locations and well-paced dialogue that moves the story along quickly. There are a lot of places where the author could have slowed up the story or gone into more detail, but he resisted the temptation.

My only criticism is the depiction of technology and hacking – I know that tech is inescapable in today’s society but it felt too simplified here. The writer has to balance the story with non-techie readers, but for me the hacking and virus stuff stood out as just tools to move the plot forward.

Otherwise I really enjoyed this one. It was a refreshing read after the long books I recently have been reading.

Next I’m reading The Beauty of Dusk by Frank Bruni.

A few years ago I read the first book of this trilogy, written about a group of memorable characters that come together in India to start a voyage on a ship to Mauritius. The book was well-written and full of words of Indian origin that I didn’t know, but I enjoyed the feeling of immersion in a culture I didn’t know well.

So when I recently had a break in my reading list I checked out the second book. This one was much longer, and to my surprise, focused on just one or two characters from the first book. This book has a focus on the impact of opium (produced in India by the British East India Company among other independent producers) on the kingdom of China, particularly in the port of Canton (called Guangzhou today).

I would have preferred to follow along with the characters from the first book – readers had invested a lot in their histories and stories. There were a lot of new characters, but it felt like starting over somewhat and so this felt less like a continuation of the story.

Obviously there was a lot of research of the history leading up to the opium wars and as a history lesson it made for good reading. The writing is still full of archaic terms and plenty of different languages, some of which are translated into English, others left to puzzle the readers. The pidgin spoken in the port of Canton was especially annoying to read and puzzle through.

This was an educational book for me, less an entertaining one, and so I did get a lot out of it. Not sure that I’d recommend it to others, though.

Next I’m reading The Judge’s List by John Grisham.

One of the problems with picking up older books that deal with social issues is that without any kind of historical context the story can suffer. This book tells the story of a man learning to stand on his own out in the world.

The primary issue in this book is race, and it was interesting to see things from the view of a young black man coming from the south and ending up in New York. There are episodes throughout the book that seem to be allegories for social problems on a bigger scale, and it was hard to read the brutal racism that was found in 1950’s America.

That being said, I don’t think I have enough knowledge about those times to really receive the writer’s message in detail, and so I felt like some of the power of the novel was lost on me.

I liked the idea of the book, and it was interesting to go back in time and see a different kind of America, but this book didn’t really click with me. By hearing the stories of this book it was a little encouraging to know that there has been progress in race relations, but there is still a long ways to go.

Next I’m reading River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh.

I haven’t read any other books (cookbooks?) by this author, but I certainly enjoy his acting and I love Italian food, so I was eager to read through this book, his memoirs over the course of his life through the lens of food.

This book shows a lot of reverence for the acts of cooking, eating, and discussing good food. Using a self-deprecating and clever style of humor, the author describes his experiences growing up, and gives details of his memorable eating and cooking experiences over the years. One theme that he mentions that I appreciated was the role of small businesses in providing good food and ingredients, rather than the big strip mall supermarket chains that apparently dominate the USA these days. He writes:

“But what are also disappearing are the wonderful, vital human connections we’re able to make when we buy something we love to eat from someone who loves to sell it, who bought it from someone who loves to grow, catch, or raise it.”

I thought this point struck a chord with me, and I am happy that now I live in a place where the small businesses are still around (although even here in Japan some big supermarkets are starting to dominate).

Although the author stresses the keeping of family food traditions and recipes, there are sometimes long descriptions of what we should absolutely not do, and when making this dish we should never do that, and that kind of thing turns me off. Sure, your family follows this tradition, but those rules are for you – not necessarily everyone.

There is quite a bit of name-dropping in these chapters, and although he makes a cute joke about him dropping names, I thought it didn’t really add much for me. I’d rather hear more about the experience of the foods that he cooked and ate, or the culture behind it. He introduced the disappearing culture of the Chinese Cuban community in New York – more of this, please!

So this was a nice read, although nothing here that changed my thinking on food or that had me rolling out pasta for next weekend.

Next I’m reading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison.

This one is hard to explain. I really enjoyed this book, digging into the history of a book and its author. The unique feature of this novel is that the narrator is the book itself, and if that sounds confusing it all works out much more clearly when you read it.

This is fiction wrapped around non-fiction, with the pages rubbing so closely together that we’re not sure which is which sometimes. The characters introduced here are all viewed from the perspective of a book that one of them owns, and the author does a great job of limiting narrative to what the book sees (or has seen). This isn’t as limiting as it would seem – these pages have seen a lot over the years, and they know their human readers well.

This was a unique read, with themes of immigration, the meaning of love and getting along with others, and it comes together nicely at the end. It made me want to read some other books (I love it when a book has me adding new titles to my reading list), and there is a lot of reverence here for the written word.

An added benefit of reading this book is a new desire to go explore Berlin, and also it left me with this juicy tidbit from one of the characters who was talking about how they spend time at a country house that he had recently bought:

“My wife says we would have a rule – no phones, no devices, we would just walk and make meals and talk and be alive.”

The Pages was an excellent book and one that I’d recommend. Next I’m reading Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Tucci.

This book tells a haunting story at a slow burn, and uses some narrative tricks to pull off what can probably not be done in a movie version of the story.

As I read the story I felt like something was under the surface, something dark and just out of focus. There is a sudden change in character’s perspectives, and a satisfying (albeit somewhat implausible) conclusion. All the makings for a good book.

This is the first book I’ve read by the author, and I liked the pacing and the descriptive style. It is a difficult trick to keep the reader guessing – what is actually happening here, right in front of us? But it is written well and was an entertaining book. There may be some parallels here with the COVID pandemic and perhaps a certain politician/cult leader, but they are mild enough not to interfere.

Next I’m reading The Pages by Hugo Hamilton.

Here is a polished, gritty and fun to read fantasy series based loosely on Vikings involved in a completely new mythology. This is the first of a series, and it caught me off guard by starting in a normal way and then gradually bleeding in the fantasy.

The world-building is excellent, the characters easy to like (although the bad guys are a little too easy to hate), and it spends a lot of time describing the nuts and bolts of armor, weapons, shield walls, and seaxes.

The writer does a great job of moving the plot forward with each chapter, with mini-cliffhangers in just the right place to prevent you from wanting to take a break.

While the world and folklore is quite complex some of the characters are on the simple side, but I have a feeling that once the groundwork of this book has been completed we’ll get more into the background (and motivations) of the characters.

This was so well planned and thought-out that I can easily imagine it be optioned into a mini-series in the future. I was glad to read it, and I’m looking forward to reading the next one once it shows up in the library.

Next I’m reading A History of Wild Places by Shea Ernshaw.

I checked out this book from the travel section of the library hoping to enjoy some travel reading – but there was a lot in here that I didn’t expect.

The book reads like a bunch of blog pages put together, making me wonder why I don’t do something similar for a quick buck. There are certainly some travel stories here, but I think they’ll be most useful to the author and her family as memories, and maybe people who plan to visit some of the same national parks as they did.

I commend the writer for putting these events down on paper, and trying to stay active and fit. Unfortunately there is a lot of extraneous stuff here so that the book didn’t feel like a cohesive whole.

Certain parts really rubbed me the wrong way – mentioning the ethnicity of non-white people she runs into during her trip through Seattle, memories of clients she had during her stint as a counselor for the State of Hawaii, and her fond memories of riding the carousel on Pier 49 in San Francisco. Pier 49? Her husband describes Mt. Whitney at the tallest mountain in the United States. I was waiting for the correction but it never came. Just a little research here would have softened the edges a little.

I think fans of her fiction series will probably enjoy the backstory on this author, but I wouldn’t recommend the book to the casual reader.

This was a short book that was written in an unusual style. It is set in a science fiction world, but is a sort of comforting, philosophical exploration of what we want. Most of the story takes place in dialogue between a monk, and a wild-built robot.

The monk is named Dex, who says they prefer to be genderless. This makes the reading a little more difficult as the pronouns used for Dex are they/their. I often got confused about who was being referred to, and especially in reading science fiction you don’t know if the people on this planet have two heads, three genders, or whatever.

I thought the story was short, simple and mildly interesting, but I wasn’t sure that much was resolved by the end of it. Apparently there is another book or two in the series, but I don’t think this one caught my attention enough to keep on going.

Next I’m reading The Shadow of the Gods, by John Gwynne.

This book really caught me by surprise. I like books that build worlds that are full of color and life, and the author of this novel has done that and much more.

Something about the writing style was unusual and refreshing – full of vibrant descriptions of color, flavor, aroma, passion and poetry. I was at times reminded of our times in Istanbul, in southern Spain, and Greece. The descriptions here are of far-away cities and people, with special attention paid to the act of reading. Reading and storytelling are critical to this book, and a reminder of why we love to read in the first place.

The story moved from an isolated island to a the spectacular imagery of a grand city, then on to a mysterious island of towers and intrigue, and then next towards the north and the snow and deserts, where we concentrate more on a critical relationship of our protagonist.

This story is filled with stories, which in themselves contain other stories, and it was fun to peel through the layers and discover what lies within.

I’m looking forward to reading more from this author – you can tell she worked hard to bring this book to fruition, and it was worth the effort.

Next I’m reading A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers.

I’ve read a few of Ruth Reichl’s other non-fiction books, mainly about her life growing up and working for Gourmet magazine. This book is a collection of recipes that she wrote up in the year following the end of Gourmet magazine and the beginning of her search for her next steps.

Right away something about this book’s format rubbed me the wrong way. She introduces each section with (what I am guessing is) a tweet that she made at that time, and they’re sort of written like a little poem/haiku/emotion bomb. For example:

“Cool, rainy. Autumn’s on its way. Pasta, perhaps? Cauliflower, olives, anchovies. Rich red wine. Ripe pears. So fine.”

There are a lot of these throughout the book and so each chapter I had another chance to be annoyed. I guess I just didn’t really enjoy the attempt to over-romanticize the experience of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches:

“Hot. Hawks dance in the air. Grass prickles. Warm peanut butter and jam on thick white bread. Summertime picnic. Feel about five.”

p. 397

But enough about my grouchiness – the recipes were why I was reading, and they are a great selection of different kinds of foods, mainly fitting an American diet. I liked that the format was simply a description and not written analytically. It was like hearing how to make something from a friend in the kitchen.

So, I’d recommend the book for the variety of recipes. Reading about how a very successful lady survived a year off work while living between two of her houses and shopping for organically grown heirloom vegetables at the local farmer’s market every week – well, that wasn’t so compelling.