Literary Lollapalooza, June Edition

In this month’s edition of Literary Lollapalooza, a tale of Islamo-punks searching for truth, a side trip into the fineries of the Muslim faith, a dazzling Swedish mystery debut, and the truth that literary sycophants don’t want you to know about David Foster Wallace.

This is Literary Lollapalooza, June Edition.

Books Acquired:

Fiction: The Life of Pi by Yann Martel, Beat the Reaper by Josh Bazell, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson, Huge by James W. Fuerst, Level 26: Dark Origins by Anthony Zuiker

Non-Fiction: The Good Life by Helen and Scott Nearing

Books Borrowed: The Taqwacores by Michael Muhammad Knight, Dummies Guide to Islam by

Books Read:

Dummies Guide to Islam by

I started the month by attempting to read The Taqwacores (see below) which I borrowed from my good friend Fahad. He gave it the highest recommendation along with all the other books by Michael Muhammad Knight. I was very excited and dove in with aplomb. To my chagrin, I did not get very far. This book centering on devout, yet non-traditional Muslims is so steeped in the everyday life of the Muslim faith that I could not ignore the obvious hole in my worldly knowledge. I would read Taqwacores, but first I would educate myself, damn it.

This Dummies’ Guide like most is a general knowledge compendium without much style, flair, or depth. I knew that going into it. I was not surprised, pleasantly or otherwise upon completion. It was as dry as toast, and as lifeless and dull as a textbook. It was however, very clearly organized and exactly what I needed: a brief and thorough education for the utterly uninitiated. I find now that I know much, much more about Islam than I did before. The test of which came day before yesterday when a Jeopardy category titled “Islam” stumped the on-air players while I confidently answered all correctly.

Take that as you will.

The Taqwacores by Michael Muhammad Knight

This book, first self-published in 2004, has in recent years become a word of mouth sensation inspiring film adaptations, and foreign-language translations. Newsweek called it “A manifesto for the Muslim punk movement” and is regarded by many as a “’Catcher in the Rye’ for young Muslims.”

As my friend Fahad described it to me, having been raised Muslim and a fan of punk music since his teens he always had a hard time reconciling the two in his life. This book, he said, was like everything he ever wanted to say, and he was pissed off because Knight got to it first.

To say that this is a book about young Islamic punks is like saying Catcher in the Rye is about a rich whiny white kid with an attitude problem. Wait. Catcher IS about a rich whiny white kid with an attitude problem. Sorry, bad example.

Okay, try this: Saying Taqwacores is about Islamic punks, is like saying On the Road is about young urban hipsters. It may be true at its core, but it misses the point entirely.

Taqwacore is name for the Islamo-punk subculture, and comes from the term taqwa meaning consciousness of the divine in Arabic. The characters in this book are unique and starkly drawn individuals, and the house they share in a college town in Upper New York state houses their own religious community, pious and irreverent, swinging from salaats in the morning to wild parties at night.

Reading this was like taking a trip back in time for me. All of the characters felt like people I knew back in high school and college. The camaraderie of the housemates, their philosophical, late-night musings, bong smoke hung thick in the air. I feel closely connected to these characters and their story in a very personal way that transcends any cultural or religious differences that we may share.

I can’t say enough good things about this book. I loved the people, the places, the good times, and the heartbreaking times. And I will always think of them fondly, much like my own days of bliss and doubt, when the world was as simple or as complicated as you wanted to make it.

Consider the Lobster, and other essays by David Foster Wallace

Last year when David Foster Wallace was found dead at his own hands the literary world mourned a fallen and unsung genius. Literary critics got together and wailed at the loss of such a bright young literary star.

It makes sense then that Wallace has been on my short-list of must reads since his death was announced last year. My first foray into Wallace’s work was the collection of essays Consider the Lobster, consisting mostly of previously published freelance writing appearing in a number of periodicals over the years.

I wanted to like it. That’s all I can say. I was rooting for him. Perhaps this isn’t his finest work (and I’m still withholding final judgments until I read Infinite Jest), but it seems to me that no one thought Mr. Wallace more a literary hero than he did himself. These essays, while some are cute or verging on interesting, are just downright tiring and aggravating. While reading this collection one can’t help but hear the self-righteous snark underlining each sentence. And the endless footnotes are mind-bogglingly self-important and overly inflated. I mean come on; do we really need a two page footnote in the middle of an essay on the Adult Video News Awards? And footnotes to footnotes? Come on! By the time I got to “Snoot” the self-righteous essay self-righteously explaining his snobbery when it comes to grammatical faux pas, I was done. I could take no more. Mr. Wallace may think that elucidating the myriad horrors of a dangling participle, or heaven forbid a dangling preposition, with footnote upon footnote of the failures of modern English classes to be enriching and entertaining. I do not.

And don’t get me wrong, I like snark as much as the next guy. And even smug plays well with me sometimes, as my collection of Hunter Thompson will attest. But when the self-importance of the writer is all I can get from a book that is supposed to be on a myriad of different topics, that is a failure of the writing.

David Foster Wallace well may be fallen literary hero. The critics may clamor for him as if he were some unsung genius of literary wit. But I am not amused.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson

Stieg Larsson died before the publication of this, his first novel, and it is truly a shame because The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo has made him a phenomenon.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a top-notch mystery thriller with enough twists and turns to keep you glued to the page. Part “locked room” mystery, part corporate finance, and part nail-biting suspense this is the epitome of a great summer read.

Over forty years ago Harriet Vanger, youngest of one of Sweden’s wealthiest families, disappeared without a trace. Now, her elderly uncle has hired Mikael Blomkvist, a troubled but brilliant journalist, to investigate and discover what really happened all those years ago. Helping him out is the anti-social computer hacker, Lisbeth Salander: a tattooed badass with a badass attitude. Together they uncover the darkest family secrets of depravity and corruption.

This book is a sucker-punch of a good read. It will leave you breathless and wanting more. Both boldly paced and meticulously plotted, Girl clips along at a breakneck speed, with plenty of chills, thrills, and unnerving violence.

There are even moments of great humor. When a rape victim turns the table on her attacker and mitigates her own form of justice and revenge, you can’t help but giggle at the gruesome turn of events.

Brilliant. ‘Nuff said.