Hang on I'm listening to Accio Deathly Hallows.
Yeah Accio Deahtly Hallows, Incendio book sales embargos, it'll be like Phoenix tears on a broken nose! Ohhh Accioooo Deahtly Hallows.
Okay it's over.
In the midst of the Harry Potter, Saga-Ending Movie Madness, I stopped everything I was doing to re-read the last three books (I had re-read the first three over Winter Break). Among the everything that was stopped was my reading of the book Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon. This is my second book by Michael Chabon, the first being The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, which immediately earned its place among my Favorite Books of All Time. It is AH-MAZING and everyone should read it. Anyway, after I finished my Harry Potter Madness re-read, I got back to Manhood for Amateurs and I just want to gush about my love for this man.
The first time I had heard anything about Michael Chabon was from, who else but John Green. I remember him mentioning him a few times on his blog, back when he kept up with his blog regularly. For some reason, I was totally and completely intimidated by Michael Chabon. Probably because one of the people to whom I look up to the most holds him in such high regard, and his book covers are just so EPIC looking.... I was afraid I would attempt to read his work and either fail or hate it. And I couldn't stand the idea of hating something that John Green loved, because he is such a big influence on my life and my hating something he liked would somehow jeopardize the validity of his influence. I don't know. I'm crazy.
However, I most certainly do NOT hate Michael Chabon. I love him. I LOVE HIM. Well, his writing, at least. Although... after reading the majority of Manhood for Amateurs (I have forty pages left), which is a collection of essays about his life as a, well, man, I think that, while I perhaps don't love him, I do really like him. I see a lot of myself in him, if that makes sense.... Whenever I say "He feels the same as me about a lot of things" I feel like I don't get my point across.... He sees the world in a lot of the same ways as I do. (That's kind of better.) His writing is absolute genius, on top of it all. I feel like reading his work makes me a smarter human being, unlike other books. (Hector and the Search for Happiness pops into my head, for some reason....) He is an absolute joy to read and I regret having been so intimidated because that meant it took me this long to pick up one of his books. And I am so much better for having done so.
Days until I go back to Seattle: 12
Days until school starts: 18
Showing posts with label john green. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john green. Show all posts
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Famous Last Words
Today I was sitting in my school's cafe, sipping a latte and reading some Vonnegut (how college, right?) and I had a thought.
Let's see. How do I go about explaining this.
Sometimes I feel like everything anybody does is just a reference to something else. Take Gilmore Girls, for example. Don't get me wrong, that show is one of my favorites of all time. It has shaped my life in a way that no other show has. Every preconceived notion I have about college and relationships comes from that show, in addition to my ability to talk quickly and occasionally spout witticisms without batting a lash. BUT- there is always a but, isn't there?- their humor and intelligence stems from their vast knowledge of other things, be it pop culture or ancient literature or current events. It is all references to something else.
As I was letting the espresso dance on my tongue with the steamed milk and vanilla essence, I was reading Hocus Pocus and I noticed that the narrator constantly talked about people's last words. And this, of course, reminded me of John Green's Looking for Alaska. I had never heard John Green talk about how the main character's obsession with Famous Last Words was inspired by Vonnegut's novel, but I know that he is a Vonnegut fan, so I started to think that this was, in fact, his inspiration. He had just never talked about it.
I am not entirely sure if this is true. If you know otherwise, PLEASE let me know. I am beyond curious.
Anyway. I started thinking about how many references to other things occur on a daily basis. I reference things so often I get confused about what is real and what is just a reference. Like my wardrobe. It is basically a reference to different eras, different movies, those whose style I admire. I don't think that this makes anything I do any less genuine; I am the sum of all of these parts, and everyone else is the sum of a myriad of different parts. That is what makes each of us interesting.
I kind of veered away from my main point, didn't I?
My point is, I guess, that it's kind of unsettling thinking about how many things (I really need to learn a new word. Did AP English teach me nothing?) are referencing something else. Everything is so...unintentionally collaborative. (Ooh that's nice. I like that.) By referencing things, and maybe occasionally passing them off as our own, we connect ourselves to the past and to each other. On the surface it's unsettling, but if you dig deeper...it's comforting.
Let's see. How do I go about explaining this.
Sometimes I feel like everything anybody does is just a reference to something else. Take Gilmore Girls, for example. Don't get me wrong, that show is one of my favorites of all time. It has shaped my life in a way that no other show has. Every preconceived notion I have about college and relationships comes from that show, in addition to my ability to talk quickly and occasionally spout witticisms without batting a lash. BUT- there is always a but, isn't there?- their humor and intelligence stems from their vast knowledge of other things, be it pop culture or ancient literature or current events. It is all references to something else.
As I was letting the espresso dance on my tongue with the steamed milk and vanilla essence, I was reading Hocus Pocus and I noticed that the narrator constantly talked about people's last words. And this, of course, reminded me of John Green's Looking for Alaska. I had never heard John Green talk about how the main character's obsession with Famous Last Words was inspired by Vonnegut's novel, but I know that he is a Vonnegut fan, so I started to think that this was, in fact, his inspiration. He had just never talked about it.
I am not entirely sure if this is true. If you know otherwise, PLEASE let me know. I am beyond curious.
Anyway. I started thinking about how many references to other things occur on a daily basis. I reference things so often I get confused about what is real and what is just a reference. Like my wardrobe. It is basically a reference to different eras, different movies, those whose style I admire. I don't think that this makes anything I do any less genuine; I am the sum of all of these parts, and everyone else is the sum of a myriad of different parts. That is what makes each of us interesting.
I kind of veered away from my main point, didn't I?
My point is, I guess, that it's kind of unsettling thinking about how many things (I really need to learn a new word. Did AP English teach me nothing?) are referencing something else. Everything is so...unintentionally collaborative. (Ooh that's nice. I like that.) By referencing things, and maybe occasionally passing them off as our own, we connect ourselves to the past and to each other. On the surface it's unsettling, but if you dig deeper...it's comforting.
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