This is the best book I've read in a long time. It's a Jane Austen kind of story -- love, money, morals -- but all the characters are dragons. That may sound silly, but the social mores one has to take on faith when reading about humans make so much more sense in Walton's dragon society. If a female dragon brushes up against a male dragon, for example, she literally turns pink, permanently. This biological fact of dragons has major repercussions when a male dragon with improper intentions deliberately presses up against one of our heroines. (If you thought you couldn't dislike anyone more than you dislike Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice, well, this book may change your mind.) I came to this book after reading Walton's marvelous Among Others, a coming-of-age story about a girl who reads like a fiend; I also recommend Walton's alternate-history series books Farthing, Ha-Penny, and Half a Crown (you might want to give these a chance even if, like me, you don't usually like alternate-history books; these take place in an England where the so-called "peace with honor" was achieved in the early 1940s and the Nazis hold most of Europe).
Tiger link: PR6073.A448 T66 2009


This is a picture book for adults. The pictures are beautiful and strange paintings, photographs, and embroideries by Maira Kalman, whose work you may already know from the New Yorker or her children's books. You know how Holden Caulfield says that with some books "you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it"? This is one of those books. It's about all the very biggest things -- the meaning of life, the human condition, mortality, art -- and also about the very small and very important things, like watching someone walk in front of you on the sidewalk.
This is a collection of responses to artistic "assignments" delivered through the Learning to Love You More
Tao Lin's first book of poems just pisses me off. It's so good, and so deceptively easy, and he's so young (early 20s, I believe), and these poems are so intimate, and so catchy. Seriously, where did he come from? Where did these poems come from? They read a lot like instant messages -- one of the poems is even titled "an instant messenger conversation we had about how my dad was in jail." Lin often doesn't capitalize words -- other titles include "i want to pour orange juice on my face" and "i am about to express myself." This last begins: "i want to check my email / i want to see a movie / i want to kill people" -- taking Frank O'Hara's "I do this, I do that" aesthetic even further, to "I feel this, I feel that, I'm going to write it all down." As I read this book I wanted Tao Lin to be my friend and I wanted to throw the book across the room, in approximately equal amounts. I wonder what he will do next, poetry-wise. (He's already got a book of short stories and a novel out. Damn him.)
You know that scene in Sixteen Candles where Anthony Michael Hall is in the car with the drunk popular girl and it seems like they might actually get together? (If you don't, you can probably catch the movie on cable right now, it's always on.) Well, I Love You, Beth Cooper is like that scene extended and enlarged into novel form. (And guess what, there's talk that the novel will be a film in a couple more years.) The story of a nerdy guy's pursuit of a cheerleader pushes the bounds of plausibility, but I suppose that's part of the fun of teenage stories. The main thing is, it's very, very funny. There are a lot of jokes that go by really quickly, much like the little asides in "The Simpsons" -- which makes sense, since Larry Doyle wrote for that show. (He also wrote for "Beavis and Butthead.") As in "The Simpsons," the main plotline is not what you care about -- what entertains you are the endless funny details in every scene. 








