Category: Artifacts

Now that we’ve finally put our books up on shelves after a decade in the garage, I pull random old books to enjoy before bedtime. The bedroom is getting crowded with a pile that needs to go back downstairs.

Here are some notes before sending them back into the stacks.

Staying by the bed

Baron in the Trees, Italo Calvino—I’m still slowly working through this book. I paused to read Cosmicomics and might get distracted by T-zero but I want to finish it sooner rather than later.

Letter on Ethics, Seneca—I enjoyed listening to the selected letters audiobook by Penguin so I picked up the complete letters translated by Margaret Graver last year. I finally started reading them; I’m enchanted by their brevity even though (spoiler warning) the later letters seem to run long.

The Unbroken Web, Richard Adams—This collection of stories has that pan-religious vibe from the 70/80’s. I most likely would have sent this back onto the shelves but I wrapped it up as a self-birthday present so I might as well give it a solid try in June.

Carlo Scarpa, The Complete Works—I borrowed this volum many times in college so I finally bought it as a birthday treat. In the past, I only looked at the images, but after spending 100 euros, I’m for damn sure reading the essays. Good lord, that’s some turgid writing. Architecture criticism at its finest.

Going back up

Cosmicomics, Italo Calvino—I’ve tried reading this many times over the years and finally broke through. It’s a tender collection of short stories based on scientific principles. I wonder if aging and kids have given me an appreciation for love stories.

Zhuangzi (Burton) & Lieh-tzu (Graham)—Always good to revisit two of the key texts of Daoism.

Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess—The boy was curious about chess so we played a few times. I pulled this book of the shelves because I find chess utterly impenetrable. I’ve never been good at with spatial games, much less a perfect information abstract. I slogged through a couple exercises before giving up even though I’m still enchanted by the structure of this book.

The 26 Letters, Oscar Ogg—Delightfully of its time though I wonder how it holds up with the historical scholarship over the past sixty years.

40 days dans le desert B, Moebius—Absolute classic. Trippy as fuck.

The Ode Less Travelled, Stephen Fry—I borrowed this book from the library when I thought I’d take my poetry experiments more seriously. Instead, work took over my life. In stressful times, the pursuit of quality may have the paradoxical side effect of stifling production. Time to send it back to the public library.

Under the Jaguar Sun, Italo Calvino—I was searching for something to calm the mind, but this was a bit too intense. Turned out that my subconscious was close, since the correct answer was Cosmicomics.

Journey to the West (Yu)—Always good for a romp Great Sage Under Heaven. Plus a little poetry.

Charles M. Russell—Nice overview of the artist’s work. Holy hell, the wild west was indeed wild. Life of all types was cheap back then.

Signal to Noise, Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean—The art holds up. The writing is what you’d expect from a 30 year old writing about a protagonist twice his age. I loved Gaiman, but I’ve soured over the past few years. One day I’ll revisit Sandman, but I’m dreading the potential realization that I’ve outgrown this as well.

Giovanni Battista Piranesi—A collection of his prints. If drawn accurately, the scale of the ruins are unimaginable, towering over the inglorious lives conducted under these decaying edifices. Quite unsafe to stay in those shadows, though I guess you’ll take what you can get in the heat of summer. Beyond antiquity though, his renderings are sick. Beyond rad.

Carlo Scarpa—In college, I picked up this Taschen survey on the (relative) cheap. It’s a passable intro to his work, though with the obnoxious style repeating text with multiple languages on each page. Then again, it reminded me of the greatness of Scarpa which lead to my big birthday purchase (noted above).