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Chase H

Chase H

has 25 followers and is following 20 people

I'm Chase.
  • Palm Beach Gardens, FL, USA
  • member since February 14, 2009

Reviews

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Displaying 1-10 of 138 reviews
  • Seventeen and J

    Seventeen and J

    by Kenzaburo Oe
    • Rated 5 stars

    These novels were good, but I felt conflicted about them, but conflicted is good too, so that's why they get five stars.

    I've been reading a lot lately about the opposite of some of the things in this book. The idea that we shouldn't defend or glorify predators, that people can think beyond sex, that people can be expected to work together in a society in a good way, etc. That would be why I feel conflicted. But Oe does something wonderful in both of these novels.

    In the first, the maddeningly self conscious and angry teenager becomes a distinct and captivating voice that I enjoyed hearing, not only because Oe captures it so well (of course, I read translation, but whatever) but because it's good to remember that people can feel like this and respond this way and that isn't necessarily good or bad, it just is.

    The second volume here I liked immensely. The first part, in which the seven gather in a house and arrange themselves sexually in a bunch of different ways, all with those tiny eyes watching them, it was great. But it leads into part two, which is greater, in an exploration of the chikan perverts. The boy they meet, who wants to write the great pervert poem, and the explorations of what it means to be a pervert, also great. There's something feminist to be said about both of these works, and I expect it's not a wonderful thing to say. Nonetheless, I am so happy to have spent time in both novels and they will be on my mind for the time to come.

    Chase H wrote this review Sunday, June 3, 2012. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Cider House Rules
    • Rated 5 stars

    I like this story. Irving knows how to tell a story, he really does. I think one issue I did have was that it wasn't heavy enough. While the story absolutely forces you to care about Homer and to even a greater extent Larch, I never felt that anything so terrible would ever happen to any of them. The story spans nearly all of Larch's and Homer's lives, and while each live meaningfully and fascinatingly, I wonder if it might not be more interesting to have a stronger and more serious (as in the consequences would be more physical and permanent) conflict. Just a thought. When I read Irving, I'm constantly trying to figure out how he was able to make A Widow For One Year so absolutely fantastic. This shares elements with that volume, but it lacks that spark, and if only I could pinpoint exactly what that spark is.

    Chase H wrote this review Wednesday, January 18, 2012. ( reply | permalink )
  • Semiotics:  The Basics
    • Rated 5 stars

    I've been a huge fan of Barthes as a literary theorist, but I was always confused when I read a lot of his work because I knew it dealt with semiotics, and I didn't really understand what that was. Now that I've read Chandler's volume, I absolutely can say that I do. Not only do I feel more comfortable with the term semiotics and its vocabulary (signifier and signified were words I had come across before), I also feel comfortable with the ideas of structuralism and poststucturalism, movements I also hadn't previously understood. Add in that I now have a beginner's understanding of the philosophies (semiotic philosophies, at least) of people like Saussure, Pierce, Derrida, and Jakobson, and I can truly say that this book has given me a better understanding of language and literature, and that I can finally feel comfortable exploring some writing that before seemed too abstract and tricky (I'm looking at you, Derrida).

    Chase H wrote this review Tuesday, January 3, 2012. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Trial
    • Rated 5 stars

    Man, Kafka's just something else. No one else does it like Kafka does. He's just so bizarre and funny and fascinating. Things just happen in Kafka's books. One day, Joseph K. gets arrested. And that's it. He never offers an explanation of why, and most everyone never really questions too much why. K. asserts his innocence, and realizes they must have made a mistake, but he soon forgets that and just worries about winning the trial. Then you have these ridiculously forward women who seem all over the place. The scene where the student carries off the usher's wife is just so surreal. It seems to make sense, but at the same time, seems out of place. That's what Kafka does so well. The placement of the court rooms and offices is another lovely and strange detail. They're in the back rooms of appartments and in attics of residential buildings. The scene in which K. opened a closet to find his jailers was just funny. Then you have my favorite part, which was the allegory told by the priest. It reminded me kind of of the Grand Inquisitor, except they're just so different. Dostoevsky uses that in order to show a message, but Kafka's just seems more enigmatic and confusing. By the end of The Brothers Karamazov, we have learned something about that allegory, it seems. Kafka just places it there in order to offer an explanation where there really is none. That's why Kafka is such a master. In his works, these fascinatingly bizarre things happen yet offer not reasonable explanation. They're just these solid enigmas that you can't help but ruminate on. Kafka's just the best.

    Chase H wrote this review Monday, December 26, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
  • Typee
    • Rated 4 stars

    It's not Moby-Dick. It was still good, though, in it's own way. Melville makes the culture interesting, and the narrator himself's plot is engaging enough. It's very Melville, though, you can tell, but it lacks the immensity that the whale has. Oh well.

    Chase H wrote this review Monday, December 26, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
  • 1Q84
    2 of 2 members found this review helpful.
    • Rated 4 stars

    There are spoilers in here, for 1Q84 and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, I should say, even though there are spoilers for all of the reviews I do.

    Murakami is the only author whose complete works I have read. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is my favorite book. I have been counting down for the release of 1Q84 since it was first announced.

    Did I like it? Yes. Was it his magnum opus, as I've heard others say? Probably not.

    It's got everything a Murakami novel should have. Mysterious magical villain? Leader is the Noboru Wataya and the Johnny Walker on 1Q84. There are mysterious pregnancies, gaps between the real world and some other strange world, there are discussions of climbing and descending, cats, and once again, we have that lovely unctuous character of Ushikawa.

    The entire time I was reading this book, my objective was: Is this as good or better than the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle? Answering this meant understanding exactly what I love about Wind-Up, which I feel I've done adequately. Wind-Up is a great story because of its pacing and momentum. The mystery of the cat's disappearance is well established, and from there, everything else falls logically, which in the novel is compared to water, and in this novel, is compared to math. From the cat comes logically Malta Kano, who is looking for the cat, as well as May, whom he finds in search of the cat, and comes Noboru Wataya, who is connected through being the cat's namesake, Malta Kano's client, as well as Toru's brother-in-law. From Malta comes Creta, and from the mysterious magical nature of the Kano sisters comes the equally spiritual Mamiya, who fits in because of his mystical nature as well as his connection to Honda, who is also mystical. In this way, the entire novel is one system. The novel is about the force of Noboru Wataya, the force of Toru, and the intermediaries who swing back and forth between them (Malta works for both, Creta is connected to both, Kumiko is related to both, etc).

    1Q84 is similar in this, but not perfectly. There is of course the force of the Little People, which manifests in Fuka-Eri and her father, as well as in all mysterious Sakigake foces and deaths. The pregnancy, the deaths, the transfer to the world of 1Q84, all of these can be attributed to the forces of the Little People. But the direction was messy. What did the Little People want? It's stated multiple times that they're neutral beings. It's the religious nuts who work under Leader at Sakigake who are the real antagonists of the novel. They want to hunt Aomame, they hire Ushikawa. So it's not a matter of the protagonists versus the evil force, it's just the protagonists versus some very human antagonists who are both somewhat guided by this force of the Little People.

    And this isn't as satisfying as it was in Wind-Up Bird. Toru was so helpless compared to Noboru Wataya. He just took Kumiko and Toru could do nothing, he didn't even understand what was going on. But he had clues in Mamiya and Honda, and in Creta Kano and party Malta Kano. And when he learned he needed to go down into the well, he did it, and met Nutmeg, and we watched him get stronger as a force to fight Noboru Wataya. The symbols of his rise to power were themselves emotionally power to me as a reader. The return of the cat was one, which is my one of favorite moments in literature. Then you have the appearance of Ushikawa, who is so ugly and evil looking that the fact that he shows up both reinforces Norboru Wataya's immense ugly corruption as well as shows that he is worried and scared enough to send this man. All of this culminates in the final confrontation, which is in a dream, but is still very physical and confrontational because there is an attack and a fight and Toru wins. And after that comes Kumiko's letter and note of Wataya's collapse, which show a very real victory.

    This novel didn't have that. The antagonists simply stopped pursuing Aomame, they never really were pursuing Tengo, and the Little People were never pursuing anyone. Where was the conflict? There was conflict, of course, but only between very human antagonists of Sakigage and the very human protagonists of Tengo and Aomame. The major powerful forces of Leader and the Little People appear, but they don't take a side in the conflict.

    Kafka on the Shore did this better than 1Q84 does. Johnny Walker is cursing Kafka, and confronts Nakata, and it's clear that all of Nakata's actions and all of Kafka's are an attempt to end this curse and this evil. It's the two of them versus evil. Aomame and Tengo are facing something here, but it isn't pure evil. And of course that's acceptable, who says a villain has to be pure evil? But that's what I love about Murakami. He's so capable of creating these powerful enigmatic conceptual evils of which the heroes have to purify themselves and defeat. It makes for a compelling story. Human villains don't have that gravitas.

    And even for that, there isn't a particularly confrontational ending. Sakigage stops pursuing them. They escape back through the rabbit hole into 1984. Had the villains been abstract and evil, it would have made sense for Aomame to have been fully unable to visit Tengo earlier. Instead, the main antagonist for this part is Ushikawa, who not only is clearly human, but is made even more human by the fact that he has his own chapters. Had Aomame and he had to actually fight, it would have been just that, a fight. Who would win? I couldn't tell you. Neither Aomame or Ushikawa have any sort of crazy mysterious power that would have given them an obvious victory. And so most of this novel, then, is just waiting, and then being cautious. Ushikawa dies at the hands of Tamaru, who could have murdered Ushikawa at any time he wanted. In Wind-Up Bird, nothing could happen until Toru passed through the wall. And to do that, he needed the power and information that came from every character he encountered before that. It all built up to one final cumulative encounter. 1Q84 instead created a stalemate between Ushikawa and Sakigage and the two protagonists, and then had Tamaru slip in like deus ex machina and end it. The two were free to meet and climb up a ladder.

    Ushikawa's role in Wind-Up Bird was fitting; he was the most human representative possible of the evil embodied by Noboru Wataya. Wataya wore a mask that made him seem clean and normal, but it was clear that had he taken off that mask, he would be a disgusting and evil figure like Ushikawa. And we know that by the fact that he sent Ushikawa and associated with that ugly figure. Here, Ushikawa doesn't have such an evil master. And he isn't portrayed as evil. As much as I dislike that Ushikawa wasn't used here to embody a super evil master, I did love his explorations. I loved how Murakami set out to explore the life of this human cockroach, and to see his motivations and his perils. That was wonderful. But could it have been enhanced by replacing Buzzcut and Ponytail by a figure defined by enigmatic evil instead of bad haircuts? Yes.

    Anther highlight of the novel: Tengo's father. The scenes in which the NHK dues collector knocked on each of the three doors were the strongest. The sense of panic, the mystery and sinister nature of the figure behind the door: that is what I mean when I say Murakami can create these wonderful figures of enigmatic evil. I guess evil isn't the right word. But it's very sinister and creepy and powerful.

    Also, the phrase "arms that are long and strong" was also appropriately mysterious, evil, and powerful, but when you realize they apply not the something mysterious like the Little People but instead to the misguided humans of Sakigage (and I am justified in saying they are misguided because they in fact say so at the end), it stops being a creepy concept and instead is just an organization's stupid scare tactic, like a guy stupidly waving a gun around.

    Maybe I'll feel differently later. Maybe I'll reread it and change how I feel. But for a novel that begun so beautifully, with Aomame embracing her change into the new world, the sense of enigmatic adventure, the premonition of new and mysterious things to do and to encounter, it ended without any mystery. The two escape back. How? I've seen enough of Murakami not to quip about how the Little People, maza, dohta, Leader's powers, and the two worlds weren't explained. Those things don't matter. Except for the fact that they weren't even left unexplained well. They were like a rope that the characters had to jump over, instead of the dark heavy blanket that was thrown over them like in Kafka and Wind-Up Bird.

    Good, but by no means his magnum opus.







    Chase H wrote this review Friday, October 28, 2011. ( reply | view 1 replies | permalink )
  • Uzumaki (Volume 1)
    • Rated 5 stars

    I read "The Enigma of Amigara Fault" a long time ago, and I read some more of his short story works this morning, and then decided to start Uzumaki, which is pretty incredible. Horror storytelling is a difficult art, but Ito makes it terrifying and disturbing. The spiral is a perfect subject; it is infinitely large, infinitely small, it is the symbol of the mesmerizing and the mysterious. All of these things are what already terrify us. By integrating the haunting power of the spiral into normal lives, Ito creates a really disturbing vision. The simple storytelling he employs is well done, sometimes not perfect, but his drawings are what are really captivating. I don't study horror often, but I should, because there is a really intricate craft at work here. I'm excited to read the next two volumes.

    Chase H wrote this review Monday, October 24, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
  • 1984
    • Rated 5 stars

    10/23/11
    I've read this book three times now. The first time was in 8th grade, then again in 10th grade, and now in my freshman year of college, in preparation for Murakami's 1Q84, which is inspired by this novel slightly and comes out tomorrow.

    The first time I finished it, I declared it my favorite book. I read it for fun over a few weeks, and I remember liking the excitement and the fear of Orwell's imaginative society. In 10th grade, we read it in class, and spent a lot of time talking about language, both from the discussion in the book as well as from Orwell's own essays in which he declares that writing should be clear and clean: clear writing reflects clear thinking, he said.

    Both previous impressions were important to me. Even today, my favorite moment in any book is when Julia slips him the note. The narrative tension he has built around Julia up to this point (she is the enemy, we must kill her, we must bash her brains in on the street) is immediately reversed. This is one of the most thrilling moments in any book I have read. I stand by that today.

    I also think a lot about Orwell's philosophy of language. There are writers out there like Nabokov, who emphasize the beauty and complexity of words, arguing that words are to be played with. This poetic versus journalistic debate is interesting, and while I appreciate poetry and poetic language, I tend to side with Orwell. The reason I read novels, and not poetry, is because I love stories and storytelling. Let the language be a window into the narrative. Of course there are overlaps. Of course I can read novels with poetic language and I love every line. But I prefer Orwell to Nabokov for this reason. It is a personal preference.

    For a while, I stopped saying out loud that this was one of my favorite books. There are just so many people (teenagers) out there who like to be vocal about how much they love this book. Often they discuss how Big Brother is real, and how sheeple are letting him come into power, and how we all need to wake up. While Orwell's issues may rightfully elicit concern about our own system, I try not to associate myself with the people who obnoxiously spout rebellion for rebellion's sake.

    But that's wrong of me, to disassociate myself from this book. It's a wonderful and lovely story, full of powerful pathos, some incredible exploration of memory, history, language, and authority, as well as a greatly creative and imaginative vision of some really scary implications.

    Chase H wrote this review Monday, October 24, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
  • Mao II
    1 of 1 members found this review helpful.
    • Rated 4 stars

    Don DeLillo understands contemporary global society. He just does. On September 11, 2001, I'm sure he was just as upset by the attacks as everyone else, but everyone else was very surprised, and I bet DeLillo was not. He knew enough about the world to see that this was going to happen.

    Continuing that idea, it really is crazy that this was written at the start of the 90s. There are discussions of terrorism and of mass death followed by scenes of characters staring longingly at the World Trade Centers. But that's not so crazy, weren't there previous attacks? Oh, that was in 1993, I just checked. So DeLillo is just magic, I guess. This examination isn't very important; I'm going to stop.

    Crowds and terrorism are the topics here, I'm seeing. It is not a very subtle novel; much of it is discussion of the themes instead of just portraying them. And this isn't a bad thing. DeLillo likes these themes; there are talks of crowds and mass danger in both White Noise and Underworld. But I liked those novels more than I like this one.

    This was clearly a brilliant novel. DeLillo clearly has a lucidity to our society that may be unmatched. But of his novels, this one is the least emotional. This is an intellectual novel, maybe the best intellectual novels I've read, but an intellectual novel is not the same as an emotional novel. I do not love anyone in this novel. I do not even hate anyone. I am enraptured by the ideas, but not by the people themselves. This may be a particularity of my own, but I read in order to feel, and while thinking may be a great side effect, feeling should be the prime focus. But that's not the prime focus here, clearly, and I won't pretend that it was. That's why I'm giving it four stars.

    Two scenes here stick out as wonderfully brilliant. The first is Karen's observation of Khomeini's funeral, which I had to google to make sure was a real event. The masses pouring themselves into the grave, and Karen's disbelief that American society could continue in world where this is happening. "Why do we still have names and addresses and car keys?" she asks.

    The second scene I loved was Bill's description of his injuries to the two veterinarians. Firstly, Bill disguises himself as an unimportant writer instead of being the important writer he is. Secondly, he uses the guise of a character instead of himself. Thirdly, the doctors are not even human doctors; they are animal doctors. Thus, there are three degrees of removal between what is actually going on and what they are discussing. This removal makes what should be a serious conversation (Bill is fatally injured) into a funny one, where the doctors suggest changing the symptoms to be more interesting, and saying that the patient could not travel because that would be "unrealistic". But Bill does travel. For DeLillo, real life is often unrealistic.

    Chase H wrote this review Sunday, October 23, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
  • The Count of Monte Cristo
    • Rated 5 stars

    Wonderful. Stories as epic as this one aren't written anymore. I cannot see how they abridge it. I cannot understand why someone could condense it. There is a distinct effect to watching the consequences unfold over 1500 pages rather than in 500. Why rush to an ending? Wait and hope, Dantes says. Anyone who abridges this book never read it.

    The magic of this book is in its narrative. The story moves, takes turns, gives us mystery and satisfaction at the same time. We know who the Abbe Busoni is when he approaches Caderousse, just as we know who the Count is, even if his true name isn't pronounced for 600 more pages. Dumas has a masterful command over his audience. I understand the power and desire to know that which we do not, but Dumas can do us one better. We know that he will get his revenge, and we know that it's him all along. But we wait to find that out anyway! Just because we know what's going to happen doesn't make it any less exciting.

    Reading this novel was an experience. 1500 pages makes it an experience. When you spend this much time with characters, it's hard not to love them. And I love Edmond Dantes. I'm sad to leave the world of this novel.

    Chase H wrote this review Saturday, October 22, 2011. ( reply | permalink )
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Displaying 1-10 of 138 reviews