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writing pool
A Collection of Reviews, Short Stories and Essays
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Monday, November 5, 2007
Madonna aptly summed it up for all of us—we are living in a material world and I am a material girl. Why bother hiding the fact? Embrace it! Sassy lyrics like Diamonds are a girl’s best friend or classic adages like Money makes the world go round didn’t pop out of thin air for nothing. We DO live in a material world. And while we fully know how to appreciate the more important things in life like love and friendship, there’s no denying the fact that we don’t mind having our fair share of the Louis Vuittons, Guccis, Armanis and Cartiers of the world. For these material luxuries and rewards represent something we all aspire for—success in life, in our careers. They go beyond being mere retail therapy. They’re rites and symbols of passage. At the end of the day, driving home in your first Porsche or BMW, seeing the first Chagall acquisition hanging proudly on your living room wall, going on that first luxury cruise around Asia with your partner, or the mere act of watching your favorite Queer as Folk episode in your state-of-the-art plasma TV gives you a sense of accomplishment—all your hard work finally reaching fruition! We all dream for that day to come. Heck, we all dream the day will come SOON, all of us yearning instant gratification. However, saving for our dream car/wardrobe/vacation while satisfying our immediate needs (bills, bills and more bills!) is easier said than done. Reality, in the form of our monthly pay checks, can be such a pain in the behind. That is why we’ve asked financial expert Jason Tan for a couple of pointers on how to manage our money well. Tip No. 1: Determine your spending style. Learning about your financial bad habits and weak spots can save you a lot of grief later. You need to ask yourself these questions: Are you a power spender? Do you feel the need to challenge your credit limits with your monthly Vuitton purchases? Do you spend more when stressed? Are you the type who goes out to buy only a pen but ends up buying three different colored pens, a couple bars of chocolates, a magazine and a steaming cup of Starbucks’ White Chocolate Mocha…and a muffin? Do you pay in cash or are Visa and Mastercard your best friends? Do you even spend at all? Because while spending too much can be bad for you, too much saving can be unhealthy as well. You wouldn’t want your friends thinking your Ebenezer Scrooge! The key here is to learn how to spend your money without guilt. Jason states that it’s all about prioritizing things. He suggests setting aside 30% of your monthly salary either on a savings account or using it to start an investment. The rest you’re free to spend on retail therapy (we all need our monthly fix, after all), clubbing, cruising the gym and Friday-night dates with the boylet(s)! Tip No. 2: When it comes to investments, one theory stands true—the higher the risks, the higher the returns. Time deposits may well be a safe place to put your money in. But given that it only earns around 3 – 4% interest, you may have to wait a little bit longer before realizing your dream of opening up that club in Malate. Instead of waiting, learn to take risks when it comes to your money. Other financial instruments you might want to look into are UITFs, mutual funds, bond funds, and stocks. Each has its own level of risk and its corresponding return. Stocks, for example, are more volatile compared to bonds but the pay-offs should you happen to invest in a company with a strong and solid foundation is well worth the risk in the end. You could end up a millionaire in a day! “With the country’s booming economy, now would be the perfect time to invest in stocks,” says Jason. “Different sectors of the economy have been experiencing growth and a lot of businesses are booming. It’s all a matter of choosing where to invest your money, definitely something we have to really put our thoughts into.” Tip No. 3: Unleash the Creative Spender in you. Believe it or not, you don’t really need a lot of moolah to have the time of your life NOW. Being young is supposed to be one heck of a party. But when you’re too broke to even hit the cheaper night clubs (why would you even go there?), then you know it’s time to be creative. Convince a friend to throw a party. One word: charisma. Talk your way into gaining entrance in a big event. If all else fails, put your networking skills to the test. What are connections for? Be spontaneous and pretend it’s your birthday—birthdays bring out the best in restaurant and club managers so enjoy the free dessert or VIP pass it gets you. This is also a great tactic in catching the attention of that hot male specimen you’ve had your eyes on since your arrival. Gatecrash a launch party—aim for a big one to blend in the crowd better…who knows, you might even meet Mr. Right-Now there! Be reckless…but try not to get arrested. Other money saving ideas: Fond of shopping? Try doing it online—you often get really good deals by shopping online for everything from the latest Madonna album to books and clothes. Just be sure to pay off your credit card bills immediately as you don’t want to drown yourself in unpaid bills. Looking into raising extra cash quickly? Take a look around and you’re bound to see unwanted stuff lying around your apartment. Instead of throwing them away, unwanted CDs, clothes or furniture may just be what you need to boost that bank account. You’ll be surprised at the amount of money you can raise. Next thing you know, you’re on your way to making that great fabulous purchase! The fun, crazy antics you used getting there…icing on the cake! *This article was written for Generation Pink, a gay lifestyle magazine.
posted by Tricia @ 3:37 AM
Thursday, September 27, 2007 What are you waiting for, A certain shade of green? Six o’clock on the dot, Anna thinks, groaning as she glances up from bed towards her beat up clock radio. Ten more minutes. What are you waiting for? A written invitation? A public declaration? Finally having had enough of Brandon Boyd’s biting lyrics, Anna reluctantly forces herself out of bed, steps into her frayed bedroom slippers, and walks the short distance from her room to her apartment’s clinically tidy bathroom. She showers for exactly fifteen minutes, consequently brushes her teeth for three, wraps herself up in her ratty green bathrobe, heads straight for her closet and finally begins the usual process of getting ready for her rather uninspiring work as Assistant to the Executive Assistant of the Assistant Vice President of the sister company of the ABC Publishing Group. Waking up is usually the hardest part of the day. The rest is so impossibly mind-numbing that one cannot help but just deal with it. Struggling past the throng of people converging at the subway, answering irate phone calls, setting up and canceling meetings, brewing and serving cheap black coffee, taking down minutes of her boss’ meetings… the daily grind, as Anna calls it, if anything, is tolerable. It’s the getting-out-of-bed-in-the-morning part that is particularly difficult. There was just nothing to look forward to lately. Even if today is pay day. Her apparent lack of friends usually meant spending both weeknights at home alone, curled up by her imaginary fireplace, reading sentimental novels while listening to funk-rock music playing in the background. It is safe to say then…that our friend Anna here, save for her oddly interesting taste in music, lives a boring, if almost nonexistent, life. And she intends to keep it that way. The less people in her life, the better. That is what she keeps telling herself anyway. Now, Let us see what we can do to disrupt Anna’s monotonous existence. BUZZ!!! Anna is confused. Tonight was not Chinese Delivery night. That was on Thursdays. Mr. Yao must have gotten her mixed up with Martha, the crazy old lady living right above her apartment. As if on cue, she hears cursing followed by the sound of dishes crashing on the floor. Curious as to who could be at the door shortly before her favorite soap opera was about to start, Anna heads over to check out her unannounced visitor through the peephole. She finds herself staring at a distorted version of her mirror image sheepishly smiling and waving guiltily back at her. Oh God, what did she get herself into this time? BUZZ!!! BUZZZZ!!! Sighing heavily, Anna finally unbolted the three locks she installed for her apartment door—a precaution used after a particularly bad stalker incident. “Olga,” she muttered. “Why the sudden visit?” “Awww I miss you too, A!” laughed Olga, clearly in good spirits. Not even bothering to wait for an invitation from her clearly annoyed identical twin sister, Olga gladly showed herself into the living room. She was wearing one of her crazy colorful dresses and was lugging behind an even more outrageous looking piece of luggage; she had channeled Jackson Pollock and Pacita Abad while pouring different colors of paint on the white canvass exterior of her maleta for the sole purpose of not getting it mixed up by other people. Anna would have just tied a bright red ribbon on the luggage’s strap the way most people do. But Olga, categorically, is not “most people.” “I would’ve let myself in had you not changed the locks again,” said Olga. “Seriously, Ann, you should just put the Javier incident where it belongs: in the past! There is absolutely no need to be paranoid. And you have to admit, it was kind of FUNNY!” “Oh I did not just hear that,” came Anna’s acid reply. “You weren’t the one who had to deal with your twin sister’s creepy locksmith stalker!” Anna visibly shuddered at the memory of creepy locksmith Javier. She suddenly remembered that long excruciating walk home. She was on the verge of crossing the bridge leading to her street when she noticed the mysterious guy smiling at her from the other end of the bridge in what seemed like a malicious manner. The memory never failed to send chills up and down her spine. But, of course, nothing would ever compare to when he started showing up at the floor of her apartment every night for ten days until she finally filed a restraining order at the nearest police station. Even after that, she would still see him spying over her at the phone booth on the far corner of her street. And he would always have that large SLR camera with him. It was a dark period in Anna’s life—one that she would give anything, move heaven and hell for, just to erase from the deepest recesses of her mind. “Annnn,” Olga said melodiously, interrupting Anna’s train of thought. “You’re blowing things out of proportion again…Javier’s a sweetheart! And anything but a stalker! He was just concerned about me after our stint in AA together! And I already apologized for letting him think you were me, I just needed to escape his protective clutches for a couple of months!” Up until Olga decided to drop by earlier during the year for another one of her unannounced visits, Anna’s life was literally a living nightmare. Every day, she struggled to escape the roving eye of her sudden stalker, running the other way every time she saw him make his move towards her. Never in her life had she felt so harassed. It was one of the few moments in her twenty seven years that she had to change her routine, and rather drastically at that. She installed numerous locks on her door (a futile attempt on her part because Javier owned the chain of lock stores where she bought all these new bolts from) and was already considering leaving her cozy apartment when she saw Olga talking animatedly with Javier right outside her living room window. Suddenly, it all clicked. The universe started re-aligning itself again and Anna never felt angrier at her twin for conveniently forgetting to inform her about the identity switch. Apparently, as Olga explained later, she and Javier—whom she fondly referred to as ‘Javie’—were part of the same support group during Olga’s Alcoholics Anonymous days, a period in Olga’s life that was ripe with epiphanies. It was right after she broke up with her bipolar artist boyfriend. She had spent many nights drinking herself to sleep until she finally came to her senses and dragged herself to her first AA meeting. Javier became her life-buddy and was religiously serious about helping Olga maintain sobriety up to the point that it had already begun to annoy her. Always used to going where the wind took her, Olga was definitely not used to being followed and monitored every minute of the day. Hence, her brilliant idea of switching identities with her twin sister Anna. It would only be for a couple of months, but as Olga found she enjoyed backpacking across Europe too much, it lasted an entire year. The moment Anna figured it all out, she resolved never to speak to her twin again, a phenomenon that lasted a mere twelve hours as Anna had never in her life been able to resist her twin sister’s quirky apologies. Olga had, in all sincerity, rationalized that she had thought it would be better that Anna was unaware of the whole situation as Olga did not want her to feel the need to cover up for her again. This has happened repeatedly in the past because of Olga’s penchant for switching identities with Anna (most of the time, the other twin was unaware) to get herself out of trouble. “So,” Anna began suspiciously. “What brings you here now, Ol?” “I’ve actually come to do you a favor Ann!” “And that is…?” asked Anna, becoming more paranoid by the minute. She was totally fine about Olga keeping her favors to herself. “See, I felt so bad about how the whole Javie incident turned out,” Olga began. “So I was thinking just the other day, that you needed to properly detoxify from that rather traumatic—although I still think it was funny—experience!” “And how, pray tell, do you propose I do that?” replied Anna, one eyebrow raised to perfection, a look she had perfected after spending three days in front of the mirror, a look she just loved subjecting her twin to whenever she knew Olga was up to something fishy. “Oh I’ve already arranged everything!” “Wh-what…?” Anna’s expression turned from smug to incredulous as Olga described what she had been up to that the day. Apparently, her twin had pulled another identity switch and withdrew a chunk of Anna’s savings from the bank in order to plan what she referred to as Anna’s “ultimate detox trip of a lifetime.” “You’re going to Amazing Thailand!” informed Olga. “Everything’s been paid and you’ll be leaving tomorrow with a friend of mine—you need to pretend you’re me though. He doesn’t know I have a twin sister! Haha! Exciting, huh? You get to pretend to be crazy old me for a month!” “Are you out of your mind?!” Anna protested. “I can’t leave right now! I’m in the middle of something at work! And my boss has been hinting about a promotion!” “That’s why I’m here Ann!” Olga assured her. “Why do you think I lugged ‘ol Rosemary with me?” “Rosemary?” “My suitcase, duh!” interjected Olga with an expression that assumed Anna should have known better. “I’m officially volunteering myself to work on your behalf. Mom and Dad have always hinted about me getting a real job so this is really perfect! And weren’t you the one who always said you wished I had a bit of stability in my life?” “I did say that…”Anna began. “But I didn’t mean for it to be you stealing mine! I’m not going!” “Too late for that,” Olga replied. “I went to your office earlier today to tell your boss—who seemed to think your name was ‘Andrea’ by the way—that you were taking a day’s leave to drop off your sister at the airport. You’re getting on that plane, Ann, even if I have to force you into it myself.” For the first time in her life, Anna could not think of anything to say. This was, by far, the craziest plan Olga had ever concocted that involved her. But she also had to acknowledge the fact that deep down (it was simply useless to deny it), she was starting to feel a little bit of excitement at the thought of taking a couple weeks off to, as Olga put it, ‘detoxify.’ “…finally wear that bikini you’ve been concealing at the bottom of your underwear drawer, drink Mai-Tais while soaking under the glorious Phuket sun, meet a ton of hot men at the Full Moon Party in Koh Phangan, maybe even smoke a joint or two…” Olga was saying. “Or you can even visit one of those historical places in the island, I know you’re fond of that. Although I could never understand your fascination with history. I mean… Ann? Hey, Ann? Are you even listening?” Staring at her mirror image waving eagerly at her, Anna finally mouthed the word her twin sister was dreading not to hear. “Okay.” “What?” replied a momentarily confused Olga. “I mean, that’s just great!” Olga was about to jump up and down like the deranged lunatic she sometimes is when she saw her twin raise a hand, signaling her to momentarily postpone the celebration. She sensed Anna was about to drop a bombshell on her. And she couldn’t have been more on target. Damn these twin intuition thingies! “I’m going Ol,” Anna began. “But on one condition. This will be the last time we—rather, you—pull an identity switch…ever.” Although she sensed something like this was coming, Olga was still stunned into silence. But it only lasted a millisecond before she finally agreed. After all, she realized, it was also time for her to start being more responsible. She knew she couldn’t rely on Anna bailing her out of trouble forever. This was actually a win-win situation for both of them. She got to learn to be more responsible while her twin can finally learn how it was to be more spontaneous. “Deal,” Olga conceded and the twins finally started talking about Anna’s trip details and Olga’s “code of behavior” at Anna’s office. *** “Now don’t forget about the report I’m supposed to submit to Ma’am Lorna on Friday,” Anna reminded Olga for the hundred and seventeenth time on their way to the airport’s departure wing. “All the details are in the My Documents folder in my laptop. And the…” “You already told me that Ann!” Olga interrupted with an annoyed look on her face. “Reports are on Fridays, Laptop password’s BrandonB—you’re obsessed by the way—and Lorna’s meetings are every Monday at eight in the morning blah blah blah. Who would name their kid Lorna anyway? It’s almost as bad as my math teacher Carlota.” “Olga!” “What?” Olga asked innocently. “Fine, I’ll be nice.” Anna took several calming breaths before finally changing the topic. “So, where am I supposed to meet your friend again? And you haven’t told me his name yet!” “Oh, er, Lucas,” Olga supplied, adjusting her oversized sunglasses. “He’ll meet you by the gate leading to the plane. I don’t have his picture with me but he’ll recognize you—duh—so just act like you’re me!” “Okay,” replied Anna. “God this is crazy. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” “Well…” Olga began. “It’s about to get crazier. Oooh look, there’s Jav—er, Lucas by the door! Gotta go Ann, enjoy your vacation! You deserve it!” After suddenly giving her twin sister a tight hug, Olga ceremoniously bolted as fast as her feet would carry her, leaving her confused twin rooted to the spot where Olga was a few moments ago. Bewildered by her twin sister’s sudden escape, Anna finally looked up to see Olga’s friend walking towards her. And she nearly fainted on the spot. It was Javier. But this is impossible! Anna thought wildly. Olga told me his name was Lucas! Lucas!!! I’m going to kill her!!! I should just grab Rosemary and leave! But it was too late as Javier was already reaching out, all smiles, to give her a big hug. “L-lucas?” Anna stammered, clutching her boarding pass as if her life depended on it. “Er, hi!!!” Javier laughed gregariously. “Why so formal, Ol? I told you I hate being called by my real name! I’m Javier now…well, actually, I was thinking about changing it again to the name you suggested—IVANA SHANDA LIER! Brilliant, girl, brilliant! Air kiss sweetie!!!” As Javier pulled her towards him, Anna was momentarily stunned. “IVANA…SHANDA…LIER??” stammered Anna, for the first time noticing the bright magenta shirt Javier was wearing. The words BRIDGETTE OF MADISON COUNTY were printed on it in bold gold letters. “W-wait a m-minute…that must mean you’re…gay, right?” Now it was Javier—rather, Ivana’s turn to step back and look puzzled. “Are you high, girlfriend?? Have you been drinking again or something??” Ivana moved closer as if to get a whiff of Anna’s breath. “Hmmm, clearly sober. You didn’t smoke a joint before you went to the airport right? Olga, remember what we learned in AA? Do you want me to have a bitch fit again? Ol? What's so funny??” “Oh, Javie!” squealed Anna, doubling over her sides with laughter. The moment she found out about Ivana, relief—sheer glorious relief—just flooded all over her body that she couldn’t help but just laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation! All the months of terror…all the trauma she felt during what she thought was the ultimate nightmare stalker situation of her entire twenty seven years melted upon the utterance of that singularly divine, absolutely fabulous name: Ivana Shanda Lier. It was as if Anna was drunk on life! Ridiculously high for the first time EVER! Who knew relief could have the same effects as the dozen shots of tequila she had some five years ago? For the first time in Anna’s life, she truly felt that she was on the verge of doing something wild and crazy—far crazier than what Olga would have even thought her capable. She just couldn’t stop laughing! Laughing at all her absurdly high expectations…laughing until her sides ached at all the judgments and resentment she had for every single person she encountered…laughing at all the drama she created for herself…how melodramatic she was! “Okaaay, Ol,” interrupted a still bewildered but already annoyed Ivana. “I know the idea of me doing the whole drag thing may seem funny to you now but once we’re in Koh Phangan’s Full Moon Party and you see me raking in more men than you…I’ll be the one having the last laugh.” “I’m sorry!” gasped Anna in between laughs. “I didn’t mean…I just…God this is just…I’m just so excited!!!” “Okay,” replied Ivana in a singsong manner. “Somebody is in dire need of Valium. You’re lucky I always have extras with me!” Finally able to get a hold of her composure, Anna let herself be dragged into the plane’s First Class section (praise Olga to the high heavens) by the amused but still confused Ivana, and embarked on what would be the first of many crazy trips she would be taking with Ivana, her twin sister, and a ton more interesting people in her lifetime. -Fin-
posted by Tricia @ 8:00 PM
Tuesday, September 25, 2007  Reading Sara Gruen's Water for Elephants will make any levelheaded person want to own an elephant, jump onto the next train and join the circus.It tells the tale of Jacob Jankowski, a recently orphaned almost-veterinary graduate of an Ivy League university. His personal tragedy drives him into a state of despair and confusion that will eventually take him into the Circus world circa 1932 after he decides to leave all common sense behind by jumping onto the next passing train. There he is suddenly thrusted into a world of freaks, grifters, performers and misfits. He is put in charge of caring for the circus menagerie where he meets Marlena, the beautiful young star of the equestrian act who is married to August, the enigmatic but sadistic animal trainer who beats not only the animals Jacob cares for, but the woman he has grown to love. Exquisitely written, Water for Elephants will make anyone remember the crazy dreams we had, at one time or another, about leaving everything including our common sense behind in order to join one of the most spectacular shows in the planet. It appeals to our sense of adventure where Carpe Diem becomes not merely an occasional mantra, but something that is ingrained in our everyday psyches. Here we learn about the ups and downs of spontaneity, the risks, consequences, and complications involved when we leave our comfort zones behind in order to follow a path ripe with colorful experiences. We see, through Jacob’s eyes, that circus life is not all glitz and glamour. We experience the exploitation and mistreatment of both the animals and the workers, we see the lowest lengths human beings would go to in order to get what they want. Here we realize that in every situation, every place we find ourselves in, marginalization will always be present. The author brings to life the cultural differences among the members of the circus, the evident distinctions between classes and subclasses. Performers never mingled with workers unless absolutely necessary. It was during meals that these distinctions were at its peak—performers ate with fellow performers at the center of the tent while workers ate with workers on the shabbier tables located at far sides of the tent. All unpleasantries aside, Water For Elephants makes for a rather interesting read. It will make you want to own an orangutan named Bobo, make friends with Kinko the dwarf and his pet dog Queenie, converse in Polish with Rosie the endearing whiskey-loving Elephant and it will also make you fall in love with the star of the equestrian act or the charismatic ringmaster or the boy who works in the menagerie, or even get it on with one of the clowns. Of course, I will be confused if, out of all the interesting people you see in circuses, you would hit it off with a clown (they scare me) but everyone has a right to be freaky at one time or another.
posted by Tricia @ 7:55 AM
 Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier tells the tale of the fortune of two prominent families through different perspectives—wives, husbands, mother-in-laws, children, servants and even a gravedigger's son.Set in London at the beginning of the 20th century, the book depicts the relationships between two upper-middle class households expressing radically different views—the Colemans and the Waterhouses. The latter revere the late Queen Victoria and cling to Victorian traditions while the Colemans look forward to a more modern society. Their paths cross one fateful day at the cemetery wherein, to the mothers’ mutual dismay, their lives are inextricably linked by the instant bond of bestfriendship among their daughters, the sensitive and soft-spoken Maude and the melodramatic Lavinia. Their graves, coincidently located beside the other, perfectly depict the differences between the two families. The Colemans’, adorned only by a simple urn, bespoke silent elegance. The Waterhouses, with their preference for more dramatic pieces, adorned their family tomb with a rather outstanding statue of an angel. Upon that first fateful encounter, it was not until a year later that the two friends meet again as both mothers did everything in their power to keep the two friends apart. It wasn’t until the Waterhouses moved to the house right behind the Colemans’ three-story mansion that Maude and Lavinia rekindled their friendship. The two families’ reaction toward the other, save for their daughters, speaks volumes. There will always be that degree of resistance to an entity that is drastically different from one’s own. Change, although the one thing constant in life, will never be readily accepted at first glance. Such was the case for these two families as it wasn’t until a dreadful tragedy occurred that they managed to somehow see past their differences. What I loved about the book was the shifting perspectives of the characters. Every individual in the story played the lead character in his/her life, something that applies to all of us. It is quite different from Chevalier's Girl with a Pearl Earring, which I absolutely adored, where we only see Griet's side of the story. Here we see the different points of view of all the characters and realize how even the smallest degree of miscommunication can ruin even the strongest of relationships. A daughter ends up resenting her mother for thinking the latter placed more value on her suffragette causes when all the mother wanted was for her daughter to enjoy the end results of her actions. A husband pushes his wife into "swinging" partners thinking this will make her jealous enough to "come back" to him; instead his genius idea leads her to the arms of another man. Theirs are lives ruled by deceit and scandal. However, they are masters in upholding facades as they manage to lead the public into thinking nothing out of the ordinary is happening in their “happy” lives. The plot, if anything, is complex and heavy. The insights provided by the number of characters in the story helps appreciate it even more. It perfectly depicts life as experienced by the different individuals present in that particularly rich period in history. This is a story that tells us of the lengths human beings would go to save face and protect their reputations, a story ripe with intrigue and disillusionment. This is also a story that tells us eventually, even the strongest of foundations crumble as the façade is destroyed by the sheer madness and weight of the events that started to happen—the volatile emergence of the women’s rights movement, the divulgence of long-kept secrets, broken promises, and finally, the tragic demise of the one person who remained innocent up until the eve of her death. As the greater part of the story revolves around the cemetery, it touches on the topic of death a lot, which I think we ought to look in the eye at one point or another. The one thing inevitable in life and we strive to turn our backs against it. In my opinion, one could never really experience the most out of life unless one confronts the very reality of death. It will happen. No matter how much we work to avoid it, it is the one possibility in life that is bound to happen. We cannot escape it. One must look death right in the eye as it gives us that sense of urgency, that drive, to really make the most out of our stay here in this planet. The more we run away from the reality of death, the more we are running away from living life to the fullest. Life and death are a tandem. One cannot experience one without the other.
posted by Tricia @ 4:06 AM
 A Long Way Down is the one book Nick Hornby has written that I have read not just once, but thrice. It is also the only one (out of the five books of his I own) that I have actually managed to finish in one read. This, of course, is not to say that Hornby is a boring writer. He is anything but. His witty, dry sense of humor never fails to amuse—I even had the strongest desire to start a business selling music records after particularly enjoying High Fidelity. However, A Long Way Down was the only one that really made quite the impact on me. It tells the tale of four lost souls—Martin, JJ, Jess, and Maureen—who connect unexpectedly one New Year’s Eve after encountering one another on the roof of Topper’s House, a London junction widely known as the final destination for those looking to end their lives. All four characters come from diverse backgrounds and have altogether different reasons for wanting to meet their inevitable demise sooner rather than later. Martin, a former TV talk show host looks to escape life and the scandal caused after a prison stint for statutory rape; single-mom and devout Catholic Maureen would rather face death than to continue caring after her disabled adult son; 18-year-old Jess is distraught after a break-up and, as we later find, is also the hormonally disturbed daughter of a prominent politician; and, finally, JJ, the only American among the bunch, initially claims a fatal illness as his main reason for offing himself when, in reality, he had lost his girlfriend and his rock-and-roll band and is experiencing jadedness after the loss of his life’s purpose. A Long Way Down, with its four different voices, begins with suicide, but, eventually we discover that it is really a book about the many complexities and complications in life. We find ourselves either hating or identifying with each of the characters. I, myself, admit to being endeared by JJ’s, with all his ruminations on art, music and quotes by Oscar Wilde. I totally understood his reason for initially lying about the reason for his apparent need to jump of the roof of Topper’s House as I would have probably done the same. He was the last to share about his struggles but upon listening to the reasons of the previous three characters, he felt his paled in comparison. After all, imagine how lame “I lost my girl and my band” would sound after reasons like statutory rape, divorce and sheer exhaustion from caring for a disabled adult? Something we only see in B-movies. Spare me the embarrassment, thank you very much. I’d rather announce I couldn’t live with cancer or AIDS. But that’s just me. However, we each have our individual crosses to bear and it is here that we realize that the pain we are feeling, no matter how explosive or frustrating or scandalous or even shallow the cause may be, should never be compared to that of somebody else’s. It is not a contest of who is experiencing the worst emotional baggage. We all feel the same heaviness in the end. And it is when we think that we can no longer bear the burden that we entertain thoughts of suicide. It would be utterly dishonest of us if we do not admit that at one point or the other, we have entertained thoughts of ending life sooner rather than later; even if it may have been just a fleeting thought that lasted ten seconds or something that has extended for weeks or months or even years. What I found most interesting about A Long Way Down is the fact that although it is a novel about suicide, it exudes life. After our four characters agree to, at the very least, find a semblance of closure in their respective lives and would again converge at Topper’s House on the next overrated holiday—February 14, Valentines Day (the tragedy of it all)—to see once and for all if they have decided to give life a second chance or were merely postponing their inevitable plummets to their doom, a fascinating journey takes place. One that was everything but easy. Our four characters rarely found comfort in their fellow survivor as some of their personalities tend to clash with one or the other. They were a bickering lot and what little solace they found in each other’s presence would always be laced with irritation, annoyance and a great deal of pity—mostly directed towards Maureen. The book shows us the lowest levels of human nature as seen in the characters’ attempts in adding more chaos to their already miserable lives instead of actually ruminating on the purpose of their existence. For a time, it seemed that everyone would end up killing each other. Well, all except Maureen, who found the comfort and community she needed in the presence of the three new people in her life. Obviously, Hornby is not one to write about melodramatic self-pity sessions or irritatingly exaggerated moments of salvation. You will find nothing of the sort here. Each of the characters’ narrations are done in a matter-of-fact, almost emotionally detached way that makes it a relatively light read (although the incessant bickering just might give you a headache) given the heaviness of the topic. A Long Way Down provides us with the perfect venue—our very own Topper’s House—to lightly ponder on topics like suicide, life, death and mortality without the danger of us having to succumb and plummet into the darkness and misery the characters in the book are supposedly feeling. In the end, we all realize that suicide is never the answer to anybody’s problems and that what we perceive as our darkest moments actually add color into our otherwise dull existence and are mere preludes to the uphill climb that is to happen next.
posted by Tricia @ 4:03 AM
 Reading Love in the Time of Cholera evoked a wide range of emotions in me like no other book ever did. In just one read, my reactions witnessed transitions from compassion to incredulity, sympathy to amusement, pity to wonder…It is hard not to be astounded by Florentino Ariza’s fifty one year, five month, and four day vigil towards the much awaited requited love of Fermina Daza. He took lovesickness to the extremes. He went beyond the figurative to the more literal; he ate roses and gardenias, drank bottles of cologne…all because they were reminders of the object of his intense affection. He even bought a ridiculously expensive mirror for the even more ridiculous reason of having her reflection linger there for a mere two hours. He barely witnessed the passage of time, the ravages of old age—basically went through life like a blur. Only in the changes of Fermina Daza’s appearance was he able to discern that old age was catching up.Nothing could have discouraged him from his relentless pursuit of love—not even Fermina Daza’s sudden and inexplicable rejection. Upon realizing how the love she felt for him was nothing but an illusion, she erased him from her life with just a wave of her hand. And even though one’s heart would go out to Florentino whose despair was inevitable, one can understand the rationale behind Fermina Daza’s decision. They separated for years…years wherein Fermina’s expectations rose to impossibly fantastical levels. She had likened him to a demigod—gallant, romantic, poetic, dashingly handsome. A perfect creature set to entice her the moment she finally laid eyes on him. Her vision may be shallow, yes, but one cannot deny the fact that most of us exhibit the same trait at one point or another. I have never known a person who dreamed about the perfect mate and seeing that person without a beautiful exterior. There will always be that ethereal image of beauty that we cannot help but attribute to the ideal mate we have created in our heads. In the end, it is only the harsh wakeup call that is reality that forces us to compromise; for only a number of us can truly meet the exact vision we have in our dreams. People always say, "When you dream, you might as well dream big." This could not be more appropriate because this was exactly what Fermina Daza did—she dreamed and dreamed about her perfect future with her perfect man, with his perfect good looks and his perfect personality…it was not a surprise, then, that nothing but disillusionment and disappointment clouded her vision the moment she saw Florentino Ariza. Florentino, however gallant, romantic and poetic he can be, was, unfortunately, not much of a looker. In the end, he was unable to meet the unequivocally high expectations Fermina has set for him in all their years of separation. Fermina consequently ended up in a “marriage of convenience” to the seemingly perfect Dr. Juvenal Urbino. Love did not even play a factor in her decision as she opted for convenience instead. Dr. Juvenal Urbino, the perfect man you could take home to meet the parents, was accomplished, charming, good-looking, wealthy, and intelligent. Unlike the immediate disapproval Fermina’s father bestowed upon Florentino, it was even the father who encouraged his daughter to marry Dr. Urbino. Typical. Lorenzo Daza’s reaction is prevalent even in today’s society. Any parent would want nothing but the best for his daughter. But conflict ensues as there are times when what parents perceive as the best do not really coincide with what/who their children actually want or love. There are even instances, in certain cultures, that parents do not make room for compromise. In order to preserve a certain tradition or heritage, sons and daughters are pressured and prohibited to marry or have any relationship with an individual not of the same race or religion. But I digress, for in the case of Fermina Daza, it was actually none of the above. She, herself, chose to marry Dr. Juvenal Urbino of her own volition. Theirs was a good and stable marriage that lasted for half a century until the doctor’s unexpected demise. For somebody who took the utmost measures of self-preservation, his death was accidental, amusing, and very much ironic: he fell on his back after climbing a mango tree in search of an errant pet parrot—in my opinion, a rather unbecoming way to die for a person of his stature. Here we realize that we do not really have a say in the way we are to die. Much as we like the idea of dying in a spectacular, earth-shattering manner, we really do not have a choice in the matter. Death comes when you least expect it—you might not even have the best attire the moment it decides to knock on your door. I, myself, have seen a number of films depicting peoples’ deaths in the most absurd, horrifying, tragic, ridiculous and anti-climatic of ways. That of Juvenal Urbino obviously falls within the latter, mingled with fragments of the absurd and ridiculous. Nevertheless, his was a decent, stable and happy enough life. It wasn’t until the doctor’s death that Florentino Ariza began to really live. Although, one can not really call him a hermit during the past 50 years as he flitted from one liaison to the next—six hundred and twenty-two, in fact. How he squeezed all these women in all of his seventy-four years (less, actually) is something worth putting in the world book of records—I’m still trying to figure out how he accomplished such a feat. However, all these relationships he regarded as nothing more than temporary. Yes, he loved each and every one of these women in his own way, but he never married as he was still loyal to Fermina Daza. Indeed, his long pilgrimage to requited love would have spurred a variety of reactions from a wide range of people—cynics would have viewed him as excessively sentimental and stupidly wasting his time, hopeless romantics would have seen what he did as something of a dream, others would have even called him a hypocrite—vowing to remain true to Fermina Daza but fools around with every other women anyway…the list goes on. In the end, however, Florentino’s loyalty to Fermina warrants admiration. He already acknowledged her as a vital part of his life despite the fact that she chose someone of higher stature over him. He was on the verge of leaving her at one time but resolved to return and wait for her instead. He persevered and, in the end, prevailed, albeit breaking a number of hearts along the way. What struck me most about the story was how Florentino Ariza’s love blossomed from that of an extremely intense, unrealistic, and crazed obsession to that of a love that has reached a more mature depth. Even the style he used in wooing her back showed an air of maturity. Gone were the days of intense and excessively sentimental letters containing vows of eternal love. Replacing them were typewritten meditations on life, love, old age and death. He found a new way to connect with her. He opted to offer her comfort rather than his usual vow of undying adulation. He transformed from being a self-absorbed stalker to a man offering her the emotional security she needed at that time. In the end, it worked. When at last he had Fermina Daza’s love in return, they went beyond the fevers of passion and reached a point past having any care in the world. They overcame numerous obstacles to their relationship—the ravages of old age, the harsh criticism of Fermina’s daughter Ofelia, and even the awkwardness of their physical capabilities. Theirs was a love that transcended the boundaries of age. A love that is timeless.
posted by Tricia @ 4:00 AM
Monday, September 24, 2007
 After months of reading books half-finished, I finally managed to reach the last page of a novel today--without even skimming pages! Mark that in your calendars people.The book in question wasn't even included in my last list. That is because I just got my last pay and ended up buying not one but two new books last Saturday. It's ironic how I, Miss ADHD, finished a book written from the point of view of an autistic child--The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon, a murder mystery of sorts narrated by an autistic 15-year-old Christopher Boone. Christopher's quite the character. He knows all the countries in the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057 (chapters in the book are divided according to prime numbers). He relates well to animals--he has a pet rat--but is clueless when it comes to human emotions. The story starts with him finding his neighbor's dog killed with a garden fork. So he then resolves to find the murderer using the style of his favorite (logical) detective, Sherlock Homes. What happens after is an adventure as Christopher discovers secrets about his parents' relationship, it's link to what happened with Wellington (the neighbor's dog)...and he's able to move out of his comfort zone a lot. He doesn't like being in places with lots of people but he was able to go to London all on his own. He's a quirky character. He relaxes by groaning and doing complicated math problems in his head or by hiding in a cabinet or tool shed. He predicts days to be either Quite Good, Good, Super Good or Black according to the number of red cars (good) and yellow or brown cars (bad) he sees. He hates yellow and brown for some odd reason. And will not eat yellow-colored food unless he mixes it with red food coloring. And he doesn't like eating food touched by other people. He cannot stand to be touched by other people, even his parents. He SCREAMS when touched! The only show of affection he can stomach from his parents is by touching the tips of his fingers with theirs. It was a sign that meant they loved each other. And I swear, every time he did this with his dad or mom after a particularly tiring episode, I get teary-eyed. :') It's an amusing and enlightening read. This is supposed to be Mark Haddon's first novel and it's already a masterpiece. :)
posted by Tricia @ 7:57 AM
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