Letter From An Occupant

Considering my stellar contributions to the last post I am unsure if it is safe for me to raise my head... for the record, I did not make the comment regarding the use of agents to "raise" my children. Oh no. I was too busy having sex with my wife. (Hands off, L.*)

In between the now-publicized bouts of steamy coitus I have been reading books. Not just how-to manuals, or Penguin, mind you, but books written for people like me, who read books that aren't always books written for parents to read to their kids, or even for kids to read to themselves, but books that aren't for kids, or even necessarily books for people who have kids, and who don't read to kids, because kids make them uneasy. While I had planned to present a compendious "best of" list relating to my activities in 2007, I considered that you, dear reader, may not be as enthralled with categories such as "best shit of 2007" or "best public washroom I used in Vancouver in 2007"+ and maybe I'd be better off not discussing these subjects, however dear to me, outside my head.

Instead, I shall grace you with my favourite reads of 2007, in no particular order but for number 1:

5: A Spot of Bother, Mark Haddon
Maybe not a strong as its predecessor, but an enjoyable read nonetheless. The author does not hesitate to illustrate his characters as the sums of their weaknesses for comedic effect but does so in a humane and entertaining manner. Plus, no-one gets stabbed with a fork.

4: The Law of Dreams, Peter Behrens
I think I nicked this from my mom's shelf. I assumed, wrongly, the writing would smell of blue hair dye and support hose. It surprised me. It smelled of hunger and sex. Or maybe I was hungry when I read it. Or thinking about sex.

3: My Life As A Fake, Peter Carey.
Peter Carey. Enough said.

2: Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy
This volume, though slender, is heavy. It is made out of ununoctium.

1: Smilla's Sense of Snow, Peter Hoeg
P-man's sense of snow is: white/yellow; here/not here. My sense of this book is: holy fuck!

I had considered making an attempt to review these works in a prosaic manner. I can't do it - for me, the measure of a book is taken viscerally. As best I can tell, the authors on this list are all very capable of using the mechanical and stylistic devices one would expect from any author of merit. Since I don't know what these tools are I can't describe what's going on. So be itº. Instead, in as sincere a manner as I can muster, I will urge you to read these books if you haven't yet read them. So read them. But not to your kids.

P-man out.

* Unless there are photos.
+ Vancouver Convention Centre, Canada Place. Top-notch, with young white geese for ass wiping.
º One day I will recount my hugely unsuccessful stint as a creative writing major at UBC. A sanguinary experience.