Hey Nostradamus!

Hey Nostradamus! is a fictional novel about a high school shoot-out in Vancouver, British Columbia. It closely parallels the tragic Columbine High School massacre in Colorado, America. It created a period in American contemporary history that triggered all kinds of blame--on the goth & gun culture, on pharmaceutical companies, on Marilyn Manson's rock music, on fanaticism, on video games, on social cliques in high school, THE WORKS!--made by all sorts of lost people. Hey Nostradamus! is a book that combines elements of young love, grief, dysfunctional social integration, religion, existentialism, social and spiritual transformation and recovery after a tragedy.

I bought Hey Nostradamus! months before I had the chance to watch Bowling for Columbine for film class but only read the first few pages months after watching Columbine. Is it coincidence? No, not really. However, I'm glad I was able to watch Columbine first because it gave me an idea where a society with such tragedy is coming from and heading to. It also made Hey Nostradamus! a little more palatable, especially since I come from a high school where the biggest misdemeanor is defacing school property with silly little stoichiometric equations--not defacing an entire student body with silly little guns. Hey Nostradamus! is such a great (but not good) escape from a world where mere thoughts of plotting an imaginary murder are considered highly treacherous.

I have no problem with Douglas Coupland's writing. It is not complicated and despite the plot's heavy nature, the prose remains sharp, swift and really fresh. By that, I mean it is not burdened by heavy paragraphs and a tragic tone. Slightly confounding sentences, yes, but it isn't a pain to go back and read through a few paragraphs. I read the entire book in one sitting and if I, of all people, can do it, anybody can.

The difference between Bowling for Columbine and Hey Nostradamus! is that the former focused on the killers of the tragic Columbine High School massacre and the latter tells the story of the casualties in the Vancouver shoot out. Despite this difference, both stories tell us of wasted lives--a possible consequence of being caught up in our self-serving webs and self-centered nature. Hey Nostradamus! is a four part story of Cheryl, Jason, Heather and Reg. Each story was told in a different year, a different setting but are connected by one thing: the school shout out that became the catalyst to everything that happened afterwards.

I'd go ahead and say that Jason was the easiest to relate to. He held the pieces together and was the link of both the story's past and future. His piece showed vulnerability present years after a terrible tragedy and the disillusionment every human being goes through after reality thrusts us into "the real world". It was also a reflection of the way time cannot really wash away certain things and the only way to forget remembering such tragedies is to choose not to.

People have compared Coupland to the great Chuck Palahniuk. I've only read two Douglas Coupland books, the other being Eleanor Rigby (which I bought out of curiosity because it is named after my favorite song), but his writing is pretty exciting, inspiring and insightful. I think the mark of a good book and a great writer is leaving the reader with small snippets of thought that one could not figure out alone. Douglas Coupland definitely does that. He has other books I'm pretty excited to read such as Miss Wyoming and Girlfriend In A Coma (Oooh, named after a song by The Smith's). If they are anywhere close to Hey Nostradamus! and Eleanor Rigby, then they are definitely worth anticipating. 8-)

Blankets

My problem with Blankets is that it is thick but short. It's a sunday, reserve maniacal laughter over my description for tomorrow. You dirty mind.

It is my first foray into the beautiful yet undiscovered (at least for me!) world of graphic novels (not counting the Trese series I read for school and the Archie comics I used to collect as a young girl) and I expected something a little bit longer or at least a hopeful ending that didn't get me feeling so "bitin". Then again, I think that's also the beauty of the book. It is a truthful autobiography in the sense that it didn't really have answers in the end, just realizations. In a way, I am happy with the way Craig's story turned out. It started with vulnerable musings and ended with vulnerable (and perhaps a little bit enlightened) realizations.

Craig and Raina's love story is a wonderful piece of the puzzle but it isn't their love for one another that got me so into the story, but their faith. I love the part where Raina said she believed in God but did not believe in Heaven because sometimes, I feel that way. I love the part where Craig is racked by tremendous religious guilt and he cannot do anything about it even if something inside him knows he should not feel that way. I feel that way most of the time. It was very easy for me to relate to Craig, both raised in fixed truths, absolutes and words men have put in God's mouth, I found solace in his thoughts. They are simple, concise, devoid of religious bullshit but very heartfelt and well-meaning. Like Craig, I have faith in God's power but I lose it the moment I see and sense its relentless fabrication by religious institutions.

Blankets was able to convey everything I feel about Catholicism, or faith in general. It is 580 pages of unadulterated thoughts about religion, Christianity, faith and the realities of humanity that make a believer turn a full 360. I was deeply moved by Craig's questions on faith. I, too, have the same questions. I, too, feel the same way. I learn about God through the circumstances in my life, the tiny miracles I see and hear about other people's lives and the small but moving wonders of everyday life. However, I lose faith when I interact with people full of dogma. I've always disliked the feeling of entitlement persistent through avid members of the Church. I despise the rules people believe are "from God" or the beliefs that in time have turned into something the Supreme Being said. I am hotly bothered by the limits and excesses people attribute to Heaven, to God to everything about faith. Upon reading Blankets, I realized that I am not alone. Somewhere out there, there are people who think and feel the same way. In the novel, Craig wrote something I have always referred to when thinking about the pitfalls of the Church--and with this I end my discussion of the book's connection to faith:

It was nearly impossible for me to accept that a group of people could adhere to the same belief, to be one in heart and mind, much less join together in a constructive goal. The personal Savior concept of Christianity is what appealed to me, the Good Shepherd neglecting the herd to search for the lonely, lost lamb...not this mass mentality.

I thought the setting of the book is a little bit symbolic and that it fit well with the theme of social isolation. In the winter, everything seems so immaculate and incredibly pure but it will only take a little heat and sunshine to turn these soft foams of ice into brown, poopy slush. That's where beauty ends and where life begins. I love how there is an amass of footsteps in Craig Thompson's frames. I took this as a symbol of both importance and non-importance. Everybody treads on a path which will later on be erased, or covered but what's important is that they did walk through it. Longevity is not so much a question as the difference one is able to make, in one's self and in the lives of others. The message of the book is simple and clear but tension lies in simplicity, itself. With that, I was able to reaffirm my belief than man complicates what is supposed to be a life so simple. Harmony and co-existence are two difficult states of being because there will always be differences. At the end of the day, just like this book.. all we have is ourselves and our beliefs and decisions that are made by no one else.

Franny and Zooey

"That's none of your business, Franny," Zooey says. "An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.

This is going to be a really bad review because HEH it's so hard to praise a book you totally love.

It took me two weeks to finish Franny and Zooey in its entirety which is new because reading fast is something I am shamelessly proud of. What I love best about Franny and Zooey is that I consciously read it really slow. A few pages into Franny's little snippet in the novella and I knew I didn't want it to be over. Franny is exemplifies the pitfalls of an educated girl troubled by her learning--sensible, stubborn, sympathetic but worried, extremely worried of the dogma all of her education has created. I love how her character is so enlightened yet at the same time, still very much confused. It is especially fascinating that she chooses to read Russian literature at an age where she's supposed to be out on diner dates, filling up her dance card with boyfriend Lane. Although miles away from home, Franny proves that she is still a Glass, through and through. While I embraced Franny's tragedy heartily, reading Zooey felt like drowning into a sea and getting pulled back up only to drown again. I fell in love with his intelligence, conceit, interest in the arts and his arrogance that transcends no boundaries. Zooey's character evokes a constant push and pull of love and hate. Like a lover that annoys you to no end but only because you know he's actually good at almost everything. You don't want him into your life but you also can't keep him away. I love that Zooey's words are always so piercing. It hurts but it's for everyone's own good. A totally lovable misanthropist. (!)

What I love about Franny and Zooey is the way it's full of ironies. Layers and layers of irony underneath precious sheets of paper that JD Salinger wrote apart and put together over a pretty long period of time. Franny and Zooey are yin and yang, she overtly emotional and has no conviction, he strong in opinion and almost cold & distant. The Glass family is formidable but incredibly fragile. Seymour Glass is a family member everybody loves and looks up to but nobody really wants to talk about (except for Franny, of course). They are terribly fascinating but a little bit painful to watch. The setting is conformist America of the 50s but the essence of the book is Eastern and esoteric. There is a love and closeness so tangible in the Glass family despite the fact that they have already fallen apart or the fact that neither one of them could stand each other's dogma and prejudices anymore. The book is both secular and spiritual in Franny and Zooey's accounts, and in this aspect JD Salinger proves his greatness.

I love how JD Salinger left so much room (intentionally or not) for speculation over Franny and Zooey and the entire Glass Family. I felt that the book generally raises questions more than answers, and this method of fantastic self-inquiry--from who the Fat Lady really is, the spirituality involved in the novel to the non-conformist jabs the author took at a time and age of conformity to the sociological perspective of a family entirely devoid of traditional American values--makes it a gem for all ages. Whether the mystique of Franny & Zooey is a piece that threads all Glass family books together or a simple tick of the author's genius, I do not know. What I do know is that JD Salinger is a true artist and his Glass family is one of fiction's best works. Franny and Zooey's respective stories are so precocious, precious and impressive that I (and any reader who picked up the book) have found it really hard to let them go.

The Diary of A Wimpy Kid

My apologies for not writing any book review at all (well in my defense, it is only saturday afternoon). With my thesis, papers for my internship and the impending University midterms week, I am slumped. So slumped my workload can rival the Smokey Mountain of Payatas. That is not to say that I have work that reaches up to here *points to forehead level*, that is to say I procrastinate a lot and the things I ought to do a few weeks ago, I'm only starting now. Story of my life.

For now, let me entertain you with one of my friends' book. He brought it with him yesterday during our University Week. The cover looks really nice and it seems so fun to read. From what I've looked up, this realistic fictional gem (made to look like an actual notebook, complete with scrawly handwriting and stick figure drawing) comes in a series of "diaries" chronicling the life of Greg Heffley and how he deals everything from school to bullies to summer vacations and snarky friends. Wonderful! I am at an age where anything and everything about childhood excites me. Maybe it's my subconscious self-correcting the me of seven years ago. I thought being an adult is the greatest. Lies! All lies! HEH.

The Diary of A Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules by Jeff Kinney.

PS: (Click through first photo to read a page or two)