Year of the Flood

You can tap into your inner hippy (mine smells a little like sage, feet and patchouli) while reading The Year of the Flood. This is book two of the MaddAddam trilogy. I loved book one, Oryx and Crake, and I think this book is even better. The Year of the Flood follows some eco-hippy-religious group that spend their time keeping bees, eating homemade vegetarian food, and gardening.  It sounds kind of nice to me, personally, but I have a secret hippy side. That's the side that doesn't get shaved.

This book follows a group called God's Gardeners, who warn of an apocalyptic future where there will be a "waterless flood" and a major portion of the population will be wiped out. Think of them as hippy-preppers.  Well, it turns out they were right, as we found out in book one.  And as a consequence, they fared quite well, albeit a bit stinky. Don't worry, it syncs up with the first book perfectly.  (Yes, you should read the first book first).  

This book will make you want to make your own vinegar, go off the grid and start hoarding things. In real life, everyone is freaked out about the future of avocados with the California drought.  I call it the avapocalypse. We are not there yet--but you should not be taking your guacamole for granted. I wasn't before, because, hey, guacamole.

It would seem appropriate to drink kombucha with this book, but I'm too afraid after this guy I know from the Ukraine told me what he saw at the bottom of a barrel (a mouse). Anyway, I think we can do better than that.  Dirty Martini: 2 & 1/2 ounces gin or vodka (use the good stuff here), 1/2 ounce dry vermouth, splash or up to 1/2 ounce of the olive brine.  Add all to a mixing glass with ice.  Stir and strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with two olives.  Hey, this isn't God's Gardeners approved....but I say, enjoy this with your guacamole while you can.  
   

Hyperbole and a Half

Let me clear something up right away, Hyperbole and a Half is a comic book.  It is also a memoir of sorts.  It is not a graphic novel, because it is not fiction. Also, I don't like graphic novels for some irrational reason I cannot explain and I liked this collection of comics therefore it cannot be a graphic novel. My logic is impeccable.

Hyperbole and a Half is based on Allie's blog of the same name, which you've probably seen at least a sample. Allie is upfront about some of her inner demons but this book is done in such an adorable and relatable way...you'll smile even if you are secretly worried for Allie a little.  While I've never suffered from the kind of depression of which she describes I think everyone can relate to not wanting grown-up responsibilities.  I learned to like to cook (most days) but it took a long time.  I STILL hate to do ironing. Why?  Let's compare: cooking for 45 minutes = delicious brownies (with downtime to read) and you can eat and share (theoretically) said brownies. What does 45 minutes of ironing get you?  A couple of non-wrinkled shirts? Who cares? Also, no downtime and more importantly: NO BROWNIES.

So, Allie talks about how weird she was as a child, her weird dogs, her bout with depression and some of her issues with her self identity. Sounds sad but it is actually funny and cute.  Even though she draws her avatar like a slug-like thing, she is funny, young and cute herself.  I suspect as she gets older she'll be totally fine with wanting to throw sand on children. It's one of the few good things about becoming an old lady.

Drink with what Dave and I call homemade Prozac. What is homemade Prozac, you ask? The richest most decadent brownies you can make warmed with a little ice cream on top. Pair that with a little aperitif glass filled with single batch bourbon.  You can feel the healing powers.      

The Martian

Not since My Penis, Myself, has there been a more guy oriented book. Boob jokes, poop jokes, tricked out vehicles, sex jokes and long complicated math-heavy real science word problems.  Not that women can't do math, because they totally can.  (It just so happens I'm not one of those lovely and capable women).

This is one of the books that seems like it's meant to be a movie. Hey, it is!  Well, it's not quite done yet. It stars Matt Damon (who is that guy's agent?) and has a bunch of other famous people with great agents.  Directed by Ridley Scott, I am thinking this will be awesome even if it is not.  I even liked Prometheus which is a ridiculous movie.  This is my favorite thing that happened in Prometheus: Hey super creepy looking thing...let me put my face near you because I think you are like a little bunny....Argggh!!

The Martian is about an astronaut stranded on Mars. Our main guy, Mark, is a very smart but writes in his journal like a dorky 13 year old kid, with lots of lame jokes.  For example, It wouldn't have surprised me to read a scene where there was a complicated math problem which was based on how many tampons needed to fix the water reclaimer. It was likely in an early draft. Think Nicolas Tesla's  journals written by Tim Allen.  Anyway, you might like this if you are a dude or a lovely math oriented woman who doesn't mind a poop joke or two or three.  Most people can wait for the movie. Would it have killed them to cast Hugh Jackman?  Can't this book give me something?

Drinks:  A martian martini seems appropriate:  2 oz. gin and 1 oz. Midori (or other melon flavor liqueur), combine with ice and shake and strain.  Serve in a martini glass. The pretty color makes this drink reminiscent of a little-green martian, not a dusty, frozen rusty and oxidized planet drink, which frankly doesn't really sound all that appealing.

Leaving Time

WHERE'S THE BEEF?  If you know that catchphrase you are likely over 35.  Which is fine, fine, no problem (how are your knees feeling by the way? Fair to middling? ok).  Anyway, no one under 25 would ever get this phrase unless they are a hipster and found a Where's the Beef? T-shirt in a vintage shop, which was so 2009. It's all about 90's references like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now.

At the risk of turning into Comic Book Guy officially, Leaving Time really dropped the ball on the cultural references.  One narrator is 13 years old and she would never know of a movie called A Few Good Men.  I asked a friend who is 25, and she looked at me like I'd lost my mind.  Come to think of it, that's pretty normal for us, but she also said she'd never heard of it.  A Few Good Men, Some Like it Hot and a reference to Fred Flintstone seem suspiciously relevant for a 48 year old popular writer. That's more careless than The Fonz riding that bull in the rodeo to save Uncle Ben's dude ranch. Two can play at this game. (*squints eyes*)  

Leaving Time is a mystery involving elephants, psychics, the mentally ill and more elephants. You will learn more than you ever wanted to know about elephants.  There are some passages in here that involve declarations of love that are genuinely vomit inducing. The story is saved from complete crap by having a twist ending. The twist still does not reconcile how the 13 year old would be busting out Boba Fett references.

Leaving time is close enough to Last Call: 2 oz. vodka, 1 ounce concentrated and chilled jasmine green tea, 1/2 oz Domaine De Canton liquor. Shake with ice in a cocktail shaker and garnish with a lime twist.    

Neverwhere

What if every fantasy novel is just a drug-filled delusion?  Frodo's quest for the ring is just a Tolkien version of getting another opium hit. (Frodo never really gets to Mt. Doom, but in a stupor, he wanders too close to the fireplace). Or GRRM's story of Jaime Lannister is just a meth-head who accidentally sat on his hand for 6 hours. I think you could do that with any fantasy novel. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere is an idiot tripping on LSD who thinks the sewers and the Tube are a magical world where time and space are "not what they seem." Well, duh...it's called trippin'. Also while you are tripping, you will think your jokes are much funnier than they really are.  Actually, that explains a lot.

Set in the sewers and catacombs of London, there is a whole other world where time and personal hygiene are not bound by logic. Neverwhere is where an idiot protagonist can explore, he can experience life afresh, and where he can make some really corny jokes.

This is a fine example of urban fantasy (I'm going to gloss over the joke problem) and if you like this genre why haven't you read The Rook already? C'mon! I'm sure I would get more out of this book if I had lived in London at some point. Alas, I may never get there so I just have to guess.  I imagine people walk around with pez nez peeking from their waistcoats.  If you been there and say that's not true, I still think you are a big fat liar.

Drinks:  It's getting warmer and this is set in England so that, to me, that means one thing--Gin.  How about a Ruben's Cooler 2? Note this makes 8 servings and you need to make it ahead for your party. Cut 2 cups of thinly sliced cucumber and freeze them.  Put 2&1/2 cups of Hendrick's Gin, 1&1/4 cups St.-Germain, 1 cup of fresh lemon juice and 1 tsp of kosher salt in a pitcher.  Refrigerate for 2 hours.  Add the cucumber slices and 1 1/2 cups of club soda.  Pour into 12 ounce highball glasses with ice.

David Copperfield

Well met, Sir! It sure is fun to speak in the olden-times talk. But you should use it very judiciously because I assume it would get tiresome after a while. Not unlike that Scottish accent you like to whip out...or God forbid, you have a Sean Connery impression. Anyway, it can be used if you wait for just the right moment.  One summer we were outside, having a drink of course, and a neighbor cat came sauntering up to us.  My friend, out of the blue, said: "Give that cat no quarter!"  That happened about 3 years ago and it's still funny.

I had never read any Dickens, and this is pretty funny (it's not a comedy, it just has funny moments) and you wouldn't think 170 year old jokes hold up but they do, they do. It is long, this book is not for amateurs, meaning if you read 3 or 4 books a year, please for your sake, skip it.  

If a certain Mister Copperfield was transported to today's time and I think it would freak him out. He would make so many mistakes. Quit pooping in the mixing bowls! Seriously, Dude, you do not need someone to help you dress.  I guess you can get a new cravat but it makes you look like an aging theater director.  Hey, just because you can see her ankles does NOT make her a prostitute.

If one thing Dickens was good for it was including TONS of snacks and drinks.  And punch is totally back, just like old lady names like Stella.  This one is apparently a fairly accurate Gin Punch: Take 3 lemons, and peel strips without the pith, and put in a bowl with 3/4 cup sugar. Muddle and let steep for 2-3 hours.  Juice the lemons (about 3/4 cup) and pour over your sugar peel stuff.  Transfer to a 3 quart pitcher with ice and add a 750 ml bottle of gin. Then add 1/2 cup orange liqueur and 1 liter of seltzer.  Stir and our into punch glasses or small cups.  Makes 20 servings.

Acceptance

I have the hardest time remembering the titles in this series.  To me, Acceptance is just a concept.  It doesn't have a nice little phrase like The Wind in the Willows or To Kill a Mockingbird. It's like naming your book Constancy or Fudgel.  Fudgel, is a real word.  It's quite relevant today and deserves a comeback. Although naming a book Fudgel would get Judy Blume fans overly excited and very confused.

The third in the Southern Reach series, Acceptance wraps up our mystery surrounding Area X (well, sort of). While certainly better than the unpalatable narrative in the second book, it's not as good as the first.  I liked it but didn't love it. First, it's told from many characters' viewpoints and set in both the past and the present. Second, I found the writing a bit "fancy."  Don't get me wrong, I really do like nice writing but it gets distracting using evocative language to describe phenomena over and over again.  I thought, JUST TELL ME IF THERE IS A MONSTER!  Is this monster going to eat someone? These are the questions I want answered. Not the luminosity of the numinous night with cranes fleeting against the sky. No, get those stupid cranes out of here.  Where is the monster? There is a threshold where I get distracted by the writing.  I'm one of those people that never saw those Magic Eye things either. Pony? Not for me. Dots. All I ever got was dots.

I want to give JVDM another shot.  I don't think he goes by JVDM, but I'm starting something here, like JCVD.  I would like to know if Mr. Vandermeer can do the splits between two chairs like JCVD because, if so, he should really make that a more prominent part of his bio. If you no idea what I'm talking about--shame on you! Here you go.  

A creepy secret government agency type drink seems just right (and an awesome 80's band of course): Joy Division: 2 ounces dry gin, 1 ounce dry vermouth, 1/2 ounce Cointreau and 3 dashes Absinthe. Stir in a shaker with ice, strain and garnish with a lemon twist. (I've learned my lesson with the Absinthe) so dashes--yes, dashes seem just so.