Vincennes Review of Books 2021
What is this! A new colour on a graph?
This marks a new era of the Vincennes Review of Books, the genesis of which was me figuring out what reading is for me when I’m not at university and can read whatever I want. So those green bars represent that, a time when all projects are 100% self-inflicted. This year, I have a book deal for the Fitzgerald project, producing a volume of his 1921–24 magazine stories for Edinburgh University Press. I don’t feel like my reading is entirely my own in the same way as it was before I started working towards this, and it’s worth noting this change in data viz.
Every year I write one of these and every year Medium shows me “Recommended articles” based off it that are called things like “I, a Shark Eyed Management Consultant, Read Three Hundred Books Last Year. Here’s Why This Feat is Both Practical and Desirable for You.” and I think, is this who people think I am, too? Because yes, this graph shows how many books I read, but if I had to list out the number of books in that graph that had influenced my career or changed the direction of my life or given me access to higher wisdom we would be looking at much, much smaller numbers. Most books, despite everyone’s best intentions, are “fine”. Many many of the books I read, I read because the alternative is being a bit bored. I’m not going to write about those books or situations though! Instead let’s read about some of the stuff that is way better than fine that I read for reasons other than a lack of alternatives.
I read Ulysses last year, and it really spoke to me. When I first read it, at 19, I thought that Bloom and Molly were… basically ancient, destined for the knackers’ yard at any moment. When I read it the second time around I found it stated actually quite clearly in the text that Bloom is a year younger than I am now, and Molly by extension is in her mid thirties.
The first time I read it was also in the shadow of my mother’s death. It’s hard to imagine a worse situation in which to read Ulysses! It is a story that is, casually and continually, replete with dead mums. Stephen’s guilt over not praying with his mother, and his memories of her end, is an obvious one, but Molly’s an orphan too! Bloom’s father committed suicide because he couldn’t handle the death of his wife! These are characters whose lives have been riven with grief in these and other ways, and it is a very very very bad book to read when your life, too has been recently riven with grief.
In not that state, it’s — and this is going to sound very obvious, so brace yourselves — it’s a really fantastic book! It’s funny and it’s kind and, yes, it is a challenge, but it’s also a challenge you can face. I had the Harry Blamires’ New Bloomsday Book to help me this time around, which I’d definitely recommend. In fact, if you’re interested in reading Ulysses, here is my guide to doing that in a way that should get you the most enjoyment and the most from the text.
- Read Dubliners, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and the Odyssey first — I wish Dubliners and Portrait had been slightly fresher in my mind this year, because it’s all the same universe and there are several characters in common. If you’re already familiar enough with the Odyssey, you can skip that one.
- Ulysses is a book that asks you to enter its world. It really rewards concentrated reading, so at least consider making it your holiday book, which I did this year. It works really well because then you get to be in two amazing worlds at once.
- Harry Blamires’ New Bloomsday Book is the canonical and by all accounts the best guide there is. My technique was to read the wee blurb at the start of the section in the New Bloomsday Book, read the corresponding section in Ulysses, then read the full chapter of the Blamires after that to mop up things I missed and consolidate things I didn’t.
- Don’t try to read Ulysses as a grief stricken 19 year old (Take care of yourself. Ulysses will be here when you get back!)
From one modernist classic to another, I also had an unusual number of encounters with The Great Gatsby this year. The short stories I’m annotating cover the Gatsby cluster of stories, but that doesn’t entirely account for why I read two comic books of the story. And Nghi Vo’s The Chosen and Beautiful, a retelling of Gatsby from the point of view of Jordan, who in this telling is a queer Vietnamese adoptee. There is also magic. This was a lovely read, there is plenty there for fans of the story as well as lots of fun world building for the magic.
As well as those, I also listened to an audiobook and read Trimalchio, which is the first draft of Gatsby before Fitzgerald reworked it based on Max Perkins’ feedback. I also read The Great Gatsby itself. Feels kind of redundant to tell you that it’s still so, so good, but it is. A treat you can give yourself this afternoon is to read or reread it in a bath.
I got quite into modernist comics this year, including things that were not Gatsby related. Here’s a pile of what I read this year:
Here are my recommendations:
James Joyce: Portrait of a Dubliner — Alfonso Zapico
The art in this one is really charming, and I came away from it knowing so much more about James Joyce than I did before.
The Great Gatsby — F. Scott Fitzgerald and Nicki Greenberg
Readers of the newsletter will already know this as one of my books of the year, if you have not already got yourself a copy do that now, it will take a while as it ships from Australia.
American Born Chinese — Gene Luen Yang
I don’t want to spoil a thing about this fantastic comic. It’s an original fiction story, unlike the other two, with three interwoven plots, it is about faith and about fidelity to oneself, and I’m making it seem really self serious but it’s definitely not. I loved it, anyway. Let me know what you think.
I achieved my aims from last year. Here are my aims for this year:
- Harlem Renaissance — I wanted to do this in 2021 but I ran out of time. At least some Zora Neale Hurston and Jean Toomer, and if you have any recommendations do tell. I’ve read Passing and I loved it.
- Paradise Lost — I’m at the point of being embarrassed that I haven’t read Paradise Lost. I’ve also got a Harry Blamires guide to it, since that worked so well with Ulysses.
- Pepys Diary for 1666 — THE FIRE OF LONDON. THE BIG ONE. I’M READY. (actually I’m not ready, the book is still on order, but I’m sure I can catch up)
- The Bible — I read the King James Version in 2021, reverting to the New International Version this year. Do you want in? Let me know if you want in.
Previous reviews: 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, 2009, 2007, 2006
Lists of books read: 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004
