“Things Falls Apart” by Chinua Achebe

I was reading a review in Entertainment Weekly for the new short story collection “Say You’re One of Them” by Uwem Akpan, and it mentioned “Things Fall Apart” (1959) in a sidebar as the definitive classic African novel. I decided to dig in to that one first, and I’m glad I did. The story spans more than 45 years in the life of an African village, focusing mainly on a hardened man named Okonkwo who is determined never to show any type of weakness. As a child, he was sickened by his father’s laziness and debt, and forged himself into the embodiment of the opposite, with both admirable and deeply tragic consequences. When the white missionaries show up in the village, toward the end of the story, it feels like a violation, and I was saddened by the forced erasure of Okonkwo’s culture.

Achebe does a great job of explaining the terms, rituals, beliefs and superstitious of the villagers; I was surprised to realize that their general lifestyle was in some ways similar to that of the American Indians’ (at least, as they’re described in “Little Big Man” by Thomas Berger).

I did have some trouble keeping the names of the characters straight and had to leaf back and forth many times; certain characters show up briefly and are never heard from again, which occasionally threw me off.

Next up: “The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher” by Kate Summerscale. It’s a true-crime story set in the English countryside during 1860. So far (30 pages in) it’s riveting and disturbing.

“Dogtown” by Mercedes Lambert

I first heard about Mercedes Lambert from an article in Los Angeles Magazine last year. Her friends were trying to get one of her novels, written a decade or so ago, published posthumously. “Dogtown” is the first in the series of Whitney Logan mysteries. It’s gritty and rather sad, and takes place in L.A., mostly East Hollywood. Written in the late ’80s/early ’90s when Hollywood was grotesque, filled with prostitutes, drugs, dirty nightclubs, etc., the filth comes off the pages in waves and you feel the neon and sleaze crawling around in your brain as you read.

The author, like the lead character, went to UCLA law school and clearly lived in L.A. for several years, as all the locations and streets are real. I could picture every intersection, highway and strip mall, and though the descriptions are sparse and stark, if you live in the city, you can see everything perfectly, and I admire her for not over-explaining; those who don’t live in L.A. will just have to let their imaginations dictate what the streets look like, and there’s enough in the tone and style to help them along.

Teaming up with Lupe Ramos, a prostitute who loves old movies and has nerves of steel, Whitney attempts to unravel a murder mystery that ties in to heroin trafficking from Mexico and Guatemalan politics. There’s plenty of twists and turns and I’ll admit I got lost a few times; also the ending is abrupt, but it completely fits the style of the story, with no easy or happy conclusions. I wish the author had received more recognition when she was alive; her L.A. noir is terrific, and I’d have loved to see it evolve to include the “new” cleaned up Hollywood. 

This was a perfect book for the bus, because while my route doesn’t take me through East Hollywood, it does take me past UCLA everyday, and many of the same descriptions used in the story apply to the streets and atmosphere.

“Lost City Radio” by Daniel Alarcon

Dang, this book was well-written and depressing. The description of a vague civil war in a vague (never named) South American country feels all the more realistic in its non-specificity, as if encapsulating all civil wars in every country.

There are several lead characters, the first being Norma, who hosts the popular “Lost City Radio” show, in which those who’ve been separated from their loved ones attempt to reconnect after the war has ended. Norma’s beloved husband, Rey, is one of the missing; he disappeared 10 years ago in the jungle and may or may not have been part of the rebel IL group that unsuccessfully tried to overthrow the government.

When 11-year-old Victor leaves his jungle village and locates Norma, they realize they have a connection neither expected. I found the connection obvious and a bit annoying, but it makes sense based on what we know of Rey, which is that he’s an occasionally selfish and dangerous liar. Many different POVs are employed, with lots of head-jumping, and descriptions of events that took place years apart sometimes occur within a single paragraph (sort of like the style used in “Veronica” by Mary Gaitskill). A less skilled writer couldn’t have pulled it off. The ending is sad; nothing neat or tidy about it, which is either brave on the writer’s part or frustrating for the audience; not sure yet. It’s clear the author is a major talent, though.

I read the majority of this book on the bus last week. Traveling during the day (half-day on Thursday) took a long time: 1.5 hours on the way home. It’s much better to stay on the fringe of rush hour, which I’ll definitely do next week. I also read “Japanamerica” by Roland Kelts.