Fin.

I’ve finished David Eggers’ book, Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Towards the latter half of the book, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. Then it got interesting again – and then he called us all motherfuckers and then it was over. So, at the end, I was kind of like, “really?” The whole thing made me think about people, family, relationships – so in that way it was good. I’m actually not too sure if I feel much different about it than I did on page 176. If I were to say anything else, I would be repeating myself. I’m glad I read it though. Some people (I don’t like) now make a little more sense to me.

Now I’m onto Richard Brautigan. I’m reading a collection of 3 of his books: Revenge of the Lawn, The Abortion and So the Wind Won’t Blow It All Away. So far, I’m loving it. This man is so very interesting. I want to know more about him. His stories are pretty light and funny – but it feels like he is trying to say something deeper. So it makes me think – which I really like.

Talking just about books can be boring.

Sidewalks in SF are perfect.  Sometimes, if I’m thinking about it, I try not to step on the cracks in the cement. In the suburbs, the slabs of sidewalks are about a step and a half, so you really have to try not to step on the seam. Here though, they are just a step apart – so if you step in the middle of the slab – you never have to worry about stepping on a crack which means you NEVER have to worry about breaking your mother’s back.

pic via www.shawnahandke.com

Eggers check-in; pg. 176; because I can

I’m almost half way through the book I mentioned picking up in my last post – A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers. Surprisingly, I don’t hate it. I thought I would hate it, my best friend hated it. She thought Eggers was elitist, racist; thought the book had no point. She wasn’t interested in the characters and found his ramblings (staggering) annoying, contrived and white.

Eggers, in his “memior,” is completely a middle-class white dude from a mid-Western, upper middle-class town. Of course he’s racist and elitist and self absorbed (aren’t we all), it just becomes hard to swallow when he doesn’t really apologize for it – or (doesn’t seeem to) have any idea that his thoughts and words could be what they are (racist, elitist, self-absorbed, asshole-ic). He has created his character to be pretty blasse about tradgedy and responsibility – which, yeah, is annoying. There is no inward struggle about self and who he is. As a twenty-something (a label Eggers appears to relate to a lot in his book) – I find this not to be the case. Everyone I am surrounded by, who is in their early to mid twenties has no idea who they are or what they are doing. They (we) question everything about ourselves and wonder who we will be, how we will get there and dream about who we will mow down on the way to the top.

On the other hand – I am interested in the character that Eggers has created (recreated?). I find him interesting – almost like a foriegner, or more like a foriegn country. I wonder about him in my off time and I wonder if men really are that different from women. How is it so possible to emmotionally detached from the world, your family, your friends? I cannot seem to separate my emmotions from anything and I find people who do kind of hard to get to know and get along with.

One of the most attractive parts of this book, for me, is again, place. The book, like Lisick’s, is centered in the Bay Area – San Francisco, Oakland, Berkeley being the center of that. So I love to know where he is, think about when I was there, think that maybe only I would understand what he means when describing the Bay Bridge. It’s also cool to be able to know a recent history of neighborhoods – South Park in the 90s, Berkeley a decade ago. Has it changed? Why? How?

Can’t think of a good one.

I just finished Everybody Into the Pool by Beth Lisick. It was a light read; a collection of Sedaris-y type short stories, centralized in the Bay Area. It was pretty neat to be able to read something and understand exactly what the author is talking about in terms of place. Lisick once lived in a warehouse on the corner of 16th and Mission in SF, where I found myself just a couple days ago. “The Mission” was a hot bed of run down businesses, drug activity and underground art scenes (it still is these things to some degree, though it has been gentrified and hipster-ified). Lisick writes about the “shit shower” that forced her out of her illegal living situation there, while I was thinking about the random act of hatred that was forced upon my car in the very same spot. She also describes “Brokely” (the border of Oakland/Berkeley) to a T; including the interesting racial dynamics that inevitably take place in that part of the Bay Area.

I revel at her ability to never borrow money from her parents; live in cheap, raccoon-infested digs and take on random jobs. For some reason, I cannot seem to do any of the above – and it feels like if I could, life would be easier and/or funnier.

Now, I am reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers. I know I’m late, but I want to see what all the hub-bub is about. It will probably take me 5 years to finish… because I am only on page 38, and I am already thinking, “who cares?” and, “you can only write like this because you are a white man,” and “you are an over-aged hipster.” So… we’ll see how that goes.