The Elk and I Plan a Year of Reading
I told the Elk, “2021 was a sluggish year of reading. I only got through thirty-four of a planned fifty books.”
“Yes,” mused the Elk, “2021 was quite a slump.”
We were sitting on opposite ends of a holiday candle – coconut and honey – sipping tea and reviewing our Icelandic vocabulary. I was working out a list of adjectives, from ancient to witty. I scratched my chin. “What do you think of learning how to say reverse engineer?”
“Is that a term you will use a lot in Icelandic?”
“I’m a cognitive scientist,” I said. “All of that is reverse engineering for machines.” I tried to suppress the duh.
The Elk shrugged, seemingly ceding the point. “Bakverkfræðingur, or so the internet says.”
While I rolled that word around on my tongue, the Elk stacked the books that I am currently reading. Cloud Atlas. Dracula. The Hidden Spring. The Eye of the World. The Book of Disquiet. I am annotating most of these books, and, even better, loving each of them. Dracula, for example, quickly surpassed Frankenstein in my literary palate. Meanwhile, Cloud Atlas is shaping up to be a new all-time favorite. The Elk and I have discussed this in depth in our letters; he reads everything I read.
It is thus time for the Elk and I to unveil twelve of the books I hope to get to over the next twelve months.
On Writing by Stephen King
The Elk speaks highly of Stephen King, but I must confess that I have not yet read any of King’s work. I am excited to break into his books in 2022. So I am beginning with On Writing because I would like to hear from the master himself his process to literature, his approach to his own creations. I think that, in general, it would be a gentle – and, as I have heard, humorous – way to break into the Kingdom.
The Elk and I have come to an agreement regarding a year of new authors and new books. Although I intend to reread some favorites (Anaïs Nin’s diaries and In Watermelon Sugar), there is something spectacular about imparting on a journey to visit someplace new. If I like On Writing, the next stop are King’s other works: Carrie, It, Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.
The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon
On my reading list since I was a teenager, Sei Shonagon’s The Pillow Book is finally coming up to the plate. I keep my own diary composed of letters that I write to the Elk. The two of us talk about science and art and the places we want to travel someday. A pillow book is a collection of observations and musings, and a medium that I aspire to with my own writing.
Sei Shonagon’s pillow book was composed in the late 900s and early 1000s. I have been swayed by the promise of beautiful commentaries, and, in general, I enjoy reading diaries. Lady Sei’s is a well-known collection and a most fervent reading goal.
Wings of Night Sky, Wings of Morning Light by Joy Harjo
I can add Crazy Brave to this list of things worth reading in the new year, but I am starting with this experimental, mixed-genre play. I am going to be taking a screenwriting class this spring, and my idea for a screenplay is rooted in poetry, much like Harjo’s work here. Could there really be anyone more inspiring than Joy Harjo? I suspect not.
Pilgrim Bell by Kaveh Akbar
Kaveh Akbar’s Calling a Wolf a Wolf was an outstanding collection, dealing with themes of addiction and recovery. His debut collection was one of the highlights of my 2020 reading year, and I cannot wait to get my hands on his new publication, Pilgrim Bell.
Akbar’s work combines beautiful imagery with the aforementioned dark themes. One of the notable poems to come from Calling a Wolf a Wolf concerned horrific subject matter. In Iran, a woman killed a man who had intended to assault her. It was haunting and stayed with this reader for a few years now. Akbar’s new collection promises to be the work of a salient and brilliant talent.
Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov
Amidst the prose and poetry and nonfiction works that I am reading about Russia, there is room for dramatic works, too, to bring me closer to understanding the heartbeat of this most difficult-to-learn Slavic language. I will be reading Chekhov’s four major plays, but I am spotlighting Uncle Vanya here due to the fact that it promises a critique of social and familial ennui, and who doesn’t want that? Truly, I am drawn to this particular play, as last year I read a couple of Chekhov’s short stories, which in modern terms may be characterized as flash fiction. This play has more space to explore a deeper, more divergent plot while keeping the common themes of his work – disillusionment and the schism between the wealthy and the poor.
Cognition in the Wild by Edwin Hutchins
Come one, come all, to read a book, the book, about cognitive anthropology! “Huzzah!” I scream at the Elk, who takes in my enthusiasm and giggles with bemused sighs. I completed a bachelor’s degree in anthropology with a curricular focus on neural evolution, and since then, cognitive anthropology has been a passion of mine. Cognition is not the most well-known subfield, so finding engaging resources has been a struggle, but I am ready to jump in.
And then keep jumping, because, you know, enthusiasm. The Elk gives me a chortling, side-eyed glance.
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Elk is shrieking at me now. “How have you never read Toni Morrison at this point in your life? You’re twenty-eight!” This is not a normal state for the Elk, who remains serene through even dramatic moments. I know, if the Elk is perturbed, that there must be a reason, and yet I have not read any Morrison and do intend to rectify that in 2022.
I debated starting with Beloved versus The Bluest Eye and chose the former simply because the story appeals to me more. Beloved follows the life and torments of Sethe, who was born a slave but escaped to Ohio. Memories and horror hurtle at her and she is forced to confront trauma and secrets. What I look forward to is the brutal honesty at the core of this piece.
The Last of the Menu Girls by Denise Chávez
I remember vividly meeting Denise Chávez. I was eleven, and joined my mother to go to a reading with Chávez in Farmington. The author read primarily from Face of an Angel, throwing in voices for each distinct character.
I was sitting in an aisle seat and Chávez found me. “Your hair,” she told me, “it’s wild.” She fluffed her own curls in my direction. I was enchanted. In truth, my hair, which has grown terribly thin over the years, has been a sore spot for me, and this thing that she felt we had in common – wild Chicana hair – was a revelation for me. You see, I explain to the Elk, I am half Latina and half white, and being able to call myself a Chicana has always felt exhilarating and forbidden (considering the freckles). I wondered, all of my eleven years at the time, if I had Mexican hair. So I associate Chávez with a self-acceptance of myself and my heritage. I cannot wait to read this other book that I have not yet gotten into.
Today I showed the Elk her note that she signed into my copy of Face of an Angel. “In sisterhood and friendship,” she wrote. The Elk smiled – a soft and reassuring thing inhabiting his face.
The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu
My first Japanese class, when I was nineteen, proved to be a memorable experience, one the Elk and I have discussed as I work to build my vocabulary of Kanji. Since then, I have had an interest in Japanese literature, and it does not get any earlier or any more significant than The Tale of Genji. This is widely regarded as the first novel, an epic of the upper class of the Heian Period.
Like The Pillow Book, this has been squatting on my shelves for years. I have a lovely copy, a bundle of sticky tabs to mark my favorite quotes, a highlighter, and an eagerness to begin.
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
“This will be my second attempt at reading this classic of world literature,” I tell the Elk. “I loved the first half of this book, but I needed more commitment.”
The Elk knows this, of course, because our letters follow my dream of reading five different translations of War and Peace to examine how an epic is born in a different language. How do we smooth words across aboundaries? How do we destroy a narrative and recreate it in another world? All of these questions are potent, but even moreso given the length and breadth of War and Peace.
My copies have been translated by Constance Garnett, Andrew Bromfield, Anthony Briggs, Aylmer and Louise Maude, and Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. We are talking thousands of words, but the story is worth the upward climb.
The Story of the Stone by Cao Xueqin
I read part of Cao’s masterpiece in a world literature class, and I must confess – though the Elk already knows – that I cried at the end of the excerpt. This is regarded by many experts and readers as the greatest work ever composed in the Chinese language.
On my shelf is an examination of Chinese poetry, and what The Story of the Stone represents to me is the beginning of an understanding of a culture and its history. Literature is the shadow behind our actions, the thing that sews our legacies onto our bodies with gossamer thread. If this five volume epic lives up to the excerpt, I will probably be sobbing before I get to the end.
Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
I have heard a great deal from the internet about this book. Raves and raves and raves. To be truthful, I do not normally gravitate to thrillers, but Mexican Gothic seems so lush and rich in its setting and characterization and the crisis at the center of its plot.
I am saving this one for the Halloween season. The Elk is fond of neatly lining up books to times, as this gives my memories of reading them some context. Nonetheless, I do hope to pick this one up this year. Twelve books for twelve months, and I am excited to spring from my unholy slump and return to the stories that the Elk and I love best.
