Law and Conversation

November 29, 2010

Read This: Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita In Tehran

On Mondays I’ve chosen to highlight a book or a story told in another medium that I really, really want everyone in the world to read.  Today I’m returning to a book I’ve referenced in several other posts.

As I was thinking over the books I’ve read this year, my husband wondered which I thought was the best.  It took me only a few seconds to decide:  “Reading Lolita In Tehran,” by Azar Nafisi, I answered.

In her memoir, which focuses on her life as a literature professor during and after the Iranian revolution of 1979, Nafisi writes of the meaning she found in literature, particularly literature written in English, and provides an illuminating perspective on why totalitarian governments such as Iran’s, and ideologues everywhere, typically focus on controlling and suppressing artistic expression:

“One of the most wonderful things about ‘Pride and Prejudice’ is the variety of voices it embodies.  There are so many different forms of dialogue:  between several people, between two people, internal dialogue and dialogue through letters.  All tensions are created and resolved through dialogue.  Austen’s ability to create such multivocality, such diverse voices and intonations in relation and in confrontation within a cohesive structure, is one of the best examples of the democratic aspect of the novel.  In Austen’s novels, there are spaces for oppositions that do not need to eliminate each other in order to exist.  There is also space—not just space but a necessity—for self-reflection and self-criticism….All we needed was to read and appreciate the cacophony of voices to understand its democratic imperative.  This was where Austen’s danger lay.

“It is not accidental that the most unsympathetic characters in Austen’s novels are those who are incapable of genuine dialogue with others.  They rant.  They lecture.  They scold.  This incapacity for true dialogue implies an incapacity for tolerance, self-reflection and empathy.  Later, in Nabokov, this incapacity takes on monstrous forms in characters such as Humbert Humbert in Lolita and Kinbote in Pale Fire.”

It’s not often that I find a book transformative, but Nafisi’s provided me with a new dimension of appreciation for story and literature.

What’s the best book you’ve read in 2010?

November 26, 2010

More on story from Lynda Barry and Harvey Pekar

I thought I’d exhausted my postings on artist Lynda J. Barry, but another subscriber has alerted the Yahoo! discussion group for Lynda to a Thanksgiving Day announcement from her publisher, Drawn And Quarterly of Montreal, that it will publish *ALL* of her comics, starting next fall.  Above the publisher’s announcement is the very first comic of Barry’s that I remember reading as a college student, which instantly intrigued me and remains among my all-time favorites.  The D&Q announcement is wonderful news for all of us who love Barry’s cartoons.

Today, Barry conducts workshops and has published books such as “Picture This!“ aimed at encouraging people to rediscover their creativity and tell their stories through writing and drawing.  Harvey Pekar, about whom I posted last week, wrote of his growing fascination with comics and story during the 1960s, after he met comic book artist R. Crumb.  In his graphic memoir, “Quitter,” Pekar said he observed that underground comics frequently took the bohemian life style as their subject and started wondering why no one had written about subjects more ambitious than hippies and superheroes.  Comics, he wrote, which were simply words and pictures, ”were as good an art form as any that existed….Why couldn’t comics be about the lives of working stiffs?  We’re as interesting and funny as anyone else.” 

Pekar held onto his idea and ultimately made it a reality in his “American Splendor” comic books, which acquired a cult following.  By telling his story, Pekar, a career file clerk who had acquired a habit of quitting things in his youth, achieved greatness.

November 24, 2010

3 graphic travel memoirs

Filed under: Books and writing,graphic novels,memoirs,travel — Helen Gunnarsson @ 10:23 am
Tags: , , ,

A week after I decided to dedicate Wednesdays to posts recommending three stories linked together by some common theme, I noticed that NPR is doing the same thing.  There are some great themes:  gossip, family secrets, and France, to name just a few.

To continue my recent series of posts on graphic novels, I’m focusing on graphic travel memoirs today.  Each book below is beautifully drawn and enables you to see the country as the author did.

1) Pyongyang, by Guy DeLisle.  Account of the author’s trip to the North Korean capital.  DeLisle blogs here in French.

2) Carnet de Voyage, by Craig Thompson.  Travel diary of the author’s trip to Europe, with a side trip to Morocco, to promote his graphic memoir, Blankets.

3) Burma Chronicles, also by Guy DeLisle.

What travel books, graphic or not, do you recommend?

November 17, 2010

Three graphic memoirs worth reading

I mentioned last week that I’ve been on a graphic novel kick on and off this year.  The combination of dialogue, occasional narration, and often stylized cartoons to tell great stories never ceases to fascinate me.

The relatively recently coined term, “graphic novel,” not to mention the Pulitzer Prize that Art Spiegelman won for “Maus” in 1992, is an indication of the respect comic books have gained since I was growing up, when my parents admonished me against revealing that I had a subscription to Mad magazine.

My parents’ admonitions notwithstanding, until recently, I didn’t realize just how controversial comics once were, condemned by no less than Sterling North, the author of Rascal, and Frederic Wortham, the Comic Book VillainDavid Hajdu recounts that interesting and scary history in his nonfiction “The Ten Cent Plague:  The Great Comic Book Scare and How It Changed America,” which is reviewed here and here.  Hajdu discussed his book and the history of comic book persecution and burning in a number of podcast interviews, including this one from Maximum Fun and this one from NPR.

Here are three other graphic memoirs worth reading:

1)  Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi, which got me started on graphic novels earlier this year, is the story of the Iranian revolution of 1979 from the vantage point of a young girl in Tehran as she grows from a small child into a rebellious teenager.  Her parents ultimately send her to Vienna for her own safety and for more opportunities.  (Satrapi now lives in France.)  Satrapi also wrote “Embroideries” and “Chicken With Plums,” both of which I enjoyed, but not as much as “Persepolis,” which was made into a movie.  Like “Maus”, “Persepolis” is a two-volume work, and, also like “Maus,” the first volume so enthralled me that once I’d finished it, I RAN to the library to check out the second. 

2)  Stitches:  A Memoir.  David Small’s remarkably nonbitter account of his parents’ dysfunctional marriage and his radiologist father’s unwittingly planting the seeds of cancer by treating his breathing difficulties with massive amounts of x-rays during the 1950s.

3) Fun House, Alison Bechdel‘s memoir of coming to terms with her father’s and her own homosexuality, and with her relationship with her complex father.  Bechdel drew and wrote the comic strip “Dykes To Watch Out For” for years; I thought she’d stopped, but her website seems to suggest that she may still be drawing it.

I have more graphic memoirs and novels and books relating to comics on my near-term reading list, including Craig Thompson’s “Blankets” and Michael Chabon’s “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier And Clay.”  With so many great stories, fiction and nonfiction, in graphic novel format, and with even more stories about the history of comic book controversy and censorship, there’s no lack of material for future posts.

What comics or graphic novels have you enjoyed?

September 10, 2010

Trials of literature

Thanks to Harrisburg, PA lawyer and writer Harvey Freedenberg for connecting with me on Twitter and calling my attention to this story about the obscenity trial of D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover.”  In the Autumn 2010 issue of The American Scholar, Ben Yagoda writes, “for six days in late October and early November of 1960, Penguin Books was tried in the Old Bailey for having attempted to bring out a paperback edition of D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which had been banned since its 1928 publication.”  Yagoda’s description of the literary star-studded cast of witnesses and testimony presented is fascinating for anyone interested in freedom of expression and literature.

Yagoda teaches English, journalism, and writing at the University of Delaware.  He’s recently published “Memoir:  A History,” in which, using memoirs from St. Augustine to the present, he discusses “memoir’s fraught relationship with the truth.”  The New York Times reviewed Yagoda’s book here; Yagoda also discussed it with guest host Kevin Sylvester on “The Sunday Edition” from the CBC on its November 22, 2009 program.

Other books that have been the subjects of obscenity trials include James Joyce’s “Ulysses,” Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl and Other Poems,” and Gustave Flaubert’s “Madame Bovary.”  All are now considered classics.  More recently, a number of Turkish writers,  including Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk, have been prosecuted under Article 301 of the Turkish Penal Code, which makes it illegal to insult Turkey, the Turkish ethnicity, or Turkish institutions.  Stories are available on the CBC, in the New York Times, and in The Guardian.

Have you read any books that have been the subject of trials for obscenity or other alleged offenses?  If so, what did you think of them?

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