Two Books: The Convalescent and Stars In My Pocket Like Grains Of Sand

I spent Friday, Saturday, and some of today in Wisconsin visiting my family; this meant two plane trips, which means I read two books that I was not required to read for a class, book group, or other specific obligation. Yaaaaaaaaay. :) The first one was The Convalescent by Jessica Anthony, who won the Amanda Davis Highwire Fiction Award for this book. The second one was Stars In My Pocket Like Grains Of Sand by Samuel R. Delany, who did not win any awards for it but I am not sure why. The first I read because McSweeney's sent it to me as part of my book subscription package; the second I read because rushthatspeaks cornered me at some point and insisted I read it right now, which while it didn't get me to actually read it right now, got me to purchase it and put it in the Read Me pile and it finally bubbled up to the top of the list when I got tired of rererererererereading Dubliners and taking notes for my novel.

The Convalescent, in brief, is an enjoyable and surreal novel that resolved itself in a satisfying way and made a good airport read. I think most of you would like it; it does a lot of the things I think of as "standard" for "McSweeney's sent me this" without being terribly long, challenging to enter, or failing-to-end. That means:

• It's surreal but not completely arealistic, in a way that feels a lot like magical realism
• It has nested plot threads that inform each other (in this case, a mythic history of the creation of Hungary involving a hypothetical extra cursed tribe that's actually really hilarious)
• The language is clever and you will be annoyed if you would like to be able to completely ignore it but it is also not going to force you to push through it like a broken hedge maze
• None of the characters are totally "good" but all of them are at least a little bit sympathetic

If this sounds kind of general, it's because it is; the specifics of the story are fun and it's an enjoyable book but I didn't feel terribly moved by it, nor do I feel I'm going to be remembering it for a terribly long time. I think Deb Olin Unferth's Vacation has most of the same elements, but it's subtler and I felt more connection to the characters; that said, the Amazon reviews for Anthony's book are all five stars and so obviously some people think this book is astounding. I think it's good, but not worth writing home about. I guess I wrote here, though at least in part because McSweeney's accidentally sent me two copies, so if you'd like to borrow one, that can absolutely be arranged, and if you really like it, you won a book.

Stars In My Pocket Like Grains Of Sand, in brief, is an intensely frustrating and rewarding experience that will engage you academically, intellectually, emotionally, and erotically. It's science fiction, which I still have a limited toolkit for reading, but that didn't get in my way as much as it did for the last few; I think I'm getting better at it. (scifibookqueue has been pushing me, it's great.) The first fifty or so pages tell a fairly contained and engaging story, and then the book explodes open with information and perspectives pushing for attention and position. I actually found this quite difficult --- fifty pages was long enough that I had gotten into a groove with the way the text worked and I expect that Delany did that on purpose. The recontextualizing switch definitely pushed me outside of my comfort zone for the majority of the book, and I will probably need to reread it to see what I missed while I was getting back on track --- because once I was back on track, it mashed a few of my ( spoilers. )