LIVING
Between my organization’s annual conference and the drag of late summer, August is always a wash. This year it was also a blur of illnesses and doctors’ offices and social events. I’m grateful for the opportunities to spend so much face-to-face time with people I see infrequently, but it was a rough few weeks. September is, so far, looking to be a significantly less busy month, and I’m taking the weeks slowly.
READING
I preordered Jesus Through Medieval Eyes by Grace Hamman last year then never read it once it arrived. I love Grace’s blog and expected a beginner-friendly dive into medieval theology to complement her online work, but the book was more surface level than I wanted. I assume it was the publisher’s choice to make it accessible to as wide an audience as possible, but I would’ve loved a 350-500 page treatment on the topic.
My sci fi book club’s pick this month was Embassytown by China Miéville. The story takes place on a outer world planet populated by sentient beings who cannot lie and whose language is constructed such that humans can only speak it in pairs. When two unlikely humans are paired as speech partners, they "break" the language, causing a ripple effect of unintended consequences. I enjoy when an author creates a novel situation and thoughtfully works through its effects and consequences, and this is a great example of that. My other sci fi read this month, Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke, was less satisfactory. In theory, a book about how humanity would react to a race of aliens suddenly appearing on earth is interesting, and at times it reminded me of Children of Men in its explanation of how humanity might respond and adapt. But it went awry at the end when humanity evolves past the need for a material presence, and it became tedious to finish.
I read two short works in the middle of the month. The Lifted Veil by George Eliot is a 75 page novella written from the perspective of a man who unexpectedly inherits his brother’s fortune and wife. The inclusion of supernatural themes and a shock ending surprised me, as they aren’t present in Eliot’s other works as far as I know. Sojourn by Amit Chaudhuri is a quick, terse book about an Indian professor in Berlin who spends most of his time wandering around the city with his two friends, an exiled poet and an enigmatic woman. Wryly funny but without much resolution or plot.
I’ve listened to one-off podcast episodes on books before, but reading through Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory with Close Reads was the first time I’ve used a podcast to deep dive into a novel (thanks to
for the rec!). The book follows an unnamed whiskey priest on the run in 1930s Mexico where Christianity has been outlawed and all priests have fled, converted away from the faith, or been killed. As with A Canticle for Leibowitz, I was struck by the Catholic understanding of the power of presence and the importance of the sacraments. Both books I found to compellingly portray what it’s like to be a feeble person of faith clinging to what little you have. Greene is so intentional in his writing, so trusting in the reader to do the work without needing to explain himself, with not a single misplaced sentence — I learned so much from listening to the podcast hosts dissect the chapters and think through the ambiguous parts of the narrative.I switched to lighter reads during my work travel and blazed through The Intuitionist by Colson Whitehead on the plane. The Intuitionist is Whitehead’s debut, and it reads like a debut: a bit unpolished, a little simple, but with the promising beginnings of his style that he hones in later work. This speculative fiction follows Lila Mae, the first Black female elevator inspector in an unnamed city who follows a controversial method of elevator inspection. After an elevator in one of her buildings crashes, Lila Mae goes into hiding and investigates what happened to clear her name. Whitehead overdoes the messaging at times and I wish he had trusted the reader to connect the dots themselves more often, but even so, I enjoyed it. It’s been years since I’ve read anything by him, and this convinced me to add a few more of his titles to my library queue. I also reread The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner, the first in a fantasy series about a clever thief named Eugenides involved in a politically-motivated heist. I read the full series a few years ago and loved it, and always wanted to return. It’s a series that rewards a reread; Turner weaves small details into the story and pulls off the reveal at the end of every book without me ever seeing it coming.
My final read of the month was a book-length essay: Pretentiousness by Dan Cox. Fox explores the concept of pretentiousness and its meaning as it relates to art, taste, and class. This goodreads review says everything I felt about it: there are a few interesting sections, particularly his autobiographical chapter at the end, but the books meanders a lot.
WATCHING
Eight movies this month. I started with two indie Peter Sarsgaard movies:
Memory (Michel Franco, USA/Mexico, 2024) is one of those low budget indie picks that I don’t know how to categorize other than “quiet adult movies”: a small cast, no soundtrack, no exposition or big plot, just people going about their lives and having conversations. Sarsgaard plays a man with early onset dementia and Jessica Chastain plays a social worker with trauma, and the two form a relationship. The actors didn’t rehearse the scenes beforehand, and there’s a noticeable sincerity and openness between the two that feels more improvised than scripted.
Coup! (Joseph Schuman and Austin Starke, USA, 2024) is a pandemic movie — the 1918 influenza, that is. The film follows a journalist and his family as they quarantine on a remote island away from the illness and inconveniences of city life. The family’s new cook (played by Sarsgaard) leads an uprising against them. I was anticipating a standard eat the rich satire, but I was surprised by its exploration of how a person’s morals are tested in times of upheaval and what it means to be a good, honest person. It’s also one of those movies where the actors are clearly having a good time, which made it a delight to watch.
I then watched three old, iconic films:
The Third Man (Carol Reed, UK/USA, 1949), with a script written by Graham Greene, follows a pulp novelist on his travels to post-war Vienna to visit a friend, only to find out that friend recently died under mysterious circumstances. Almost a perfect movie, though I appear to be the only person who dislikes the score (too jangly?!).
Charade (Stanley Donen, USA, 1963) was a rewatch for me, after my high school obsession with Audrey Hepburn. It’s “the greatest Hitchcock film he never made,” with Hepburn playing a widow pursued by several men who want the fortune her husband stole. Cary Grant plays a man she met by chance on vacation — or did she? Is anyone who they seem to be? And where’s the stolen fortune? Also, it takes place in 1960s Paris. A dream of a thriller/rom com.
His Girl Friday (Howard Hawks, USA, 1940), a screwball comedy with Cary Grant as a newspaper editor doing everything in his power to keep his star reporter and ex-wife from marrying an insurance salesman. I’m not the biggest fan of the manic energy and nonstop talking, but at just over 90 minutes, it doesn’t grate. After watching a much older Grant in Charade, he looks like a baby here.
And finally, three foreign films:
I watched part of The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, Germany/France, 2006) in German class years ago but never returned to watch the whole film until now. Set in 1984 East Berlin, the film follows a Stasi agent who finds himself drawn into the life of the writer he’s spying on and is forced to confront the impact of his work. I’m a sucker for anything set in Cold War Germany so of course I loved this movie.
The second movie was I’m Your Man (Maria Schrader, Germany, 2021), an indie rom com about an academic who, to get funding for her project, reluctantly agrees to test an android created to be a long term companion (played by Dan Stevens in British-accented German). I was surprised by the film’s nuanced exploration of what it means to be human and what we gain or lose from replacing humans with android companions.
I ended the month with 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (Jean-Luc Godard, France, 1967). It was my first Godard film and my first French New Wave film, and I don’t know that it was a good intro to either. Most of the film seemed like the faux-philosophical essay film a college student would made, with its fourth-wall breaking statements about modern life and consumerism. The film succeeds as a visual critique, however, with its intercut shots of new construction and ugly apartments on the outskirts of Paris. Despite not loving this film, I’m intrigued by its themes and impact and have been researching more about the director and film movement.
I'm intrigued by a recurring theme I've seen in feedback for Grace Hamman's book. For instance, this one from a Goodreads pal: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6663497618