Author name: hubs

An Underachiever’s Diary

“…I am, in all things, an underachiever, bound by nature to wrestle with the dull unanswerable and then give up, to the benefit of no one…”

A plain white cover with simply the Authors name, Benjamin Anastas, and the words An Underachiever’s Diary on it were so appealing, I bought the book without knowing anything about it. Benjamin Anastasi novella is not an awe-inspiring work of fictional literature, but it is an (deceptively) light, short, enjoyable read – particularly after having just read this behemoth. In fact there are times when the writing is excellent and the story bounces along hitting off of other literary works and social commentaries made by those such as Freud, Dostoevsky (particularly Notes From The Underground), and Thoreau. Anastasi ability to put both humor and humanity into most the sullen of characters can be attributed to his sound writing ability.

William, a self-proclaimed underachiever, gives the first person narration. William’s tale starts at his birth, which is significant because he was born seven minutes before his twin brother Clive, the last time he will ever be first at anything. Clive, is William’s antagonist and opposite. Clive is successful, charming, social skilled and an overachiever. The story continues through William’s childhood where he is slow to learn how to walk, talk, and get potty trained. Through his adolescence he is constantly in poor health with a long series of illnesses and injuries. His Jr. high years bring social awkwardness and the trials of sexual discovery both of which he is a miserable failure, but at this point in his life his begins to accept his calling as an underachiever. He puts himself into boarding school and soon finds himself at a “third rate” college in the Northeast. He spends five years lost in keg beer and failed relationships but he develops a philosophy along with a pride in being an underachiever. He soon relishes his ability to be unsuccessful and actually put himself in situations in order to fail. Eventually William comes to terms with his station in life and learns to cull faith and understanding from his flaws, a characteristic his “perfect” brother was never able to do. He acquires an ability to appreciate the broken and defective nature of humankind. The remainder of the novella that involves his adult life (failing at numerous jobs and eventually joining a cult) I found rather dull and a bit contrived. In addition the book ends somewhat flatly.

Anastas does a great job of describing Williams feelings. So much so that even the most successful will relate to him in some way. And as a thirty-year old myself (Williams age in the novella), I can help but look back on my life on occasion and wonder if I have achieved my potential. Anastas seems to be asking us to evaluate, or reevaluate what it means to be successful in life. All of us have a little underachiever in us somewhere. And I find myself a lot closer to William than Clive these days. Which is better, paltry happiness or sublime suffering?

Midnight’s Children

I’m a bit of a slow reader to begin with. When I read I take my time and try to engage every page and every word. I don’t skim and will reread sections when I feel like I didn’t understand them. This led to trouble while reading Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Damn this book took me a long time to finish. First it is fairly lengthy at 500 plus pages. And then there is Rushdie’s writing style. His method of writing doesn’t lend to casual reading. He uses a combination of Indian and English termed “Babu English” that takes a fair amount concentration. Not mention his atypical use of grammar and often distended and laborious sentences. This book is complex. Make no mistake about it. It is a sturdy tangle of thick, and often, obscure words.

Despite its density, the novel was pretty good. It was well written, it was original, interesting and unpredictable and I enjoyed reading it. The setting and characters were exciting well-developed and interesting. The multilayered novel consists mostly of the life story Saleem Sinai. A boy born during the first hour of India’s independence, along with 1,001 other children of India, all of whom were blessed with magical abilities. The trial and tribulations of Saleem closely follow with the actual history of India, from Nehru’s India toward Indira’s India, as well as that of Pakistan and Bangladesh (some of the novel takes place pre-partition). The political reality of the book would be much more rewarding if you have an interest in, or knowledge of, Middle Eastern history and religion.

Rushdie’s story telling ability is definitely notable and his telling tales-within-tales is very enjoyable but also very much like Garcia Marquez, whom in my opinion is more a pleasurable and worthwhile read. The magical realism allows for a surreal and distorted sense of the novel’s people and places. Much of the novel is larger than life and many of the events seem more important than they really are or should be. Adding to Rushdie’s literary complexity are many twists and turns regarding the relationships between the characters. In addition, there are name changes, sub-plots, nick-names, false-starts, tons of symbolism (much of it I didn’t even pick up on) u-turns, and plot twists.

I paid the price of patience with this novel but felt I wasn’t truly rewarded and that’s always a bit of a bummer. The novel just didn’t do it for me. It is by no means a life-changing novel or even near my top 10 best books I’ve ever read. And although a second read would undoubtedly open this story up, that probably won’t be happening for me.

Dreams

I wish I had these things currently in my possession:

A transporter pod
25 hours in a day
Professional public speaking skills
A free lunch
More closet space
A box of confidence
A few extra dollars in my bank account
A large bee (in a jar) that spread love everywhere it went
A maid

I Just About Exploded

I just about exploded eating wings last night. They were the good kind. I’m kinda picky about my buffalo wings. They have to be crispy, none of that soggy crap. I like ’em so the skin crunches a little bit. And the sauce has to be good too. I don’t want it to be on fire but they have to bite back. Also, any of you pussys out there using ranch instead of blue cheese to dip with, you can leave right now. I prefer to have about one celery stick for every wing too, but I’m a little more flexible on this point.

Let Them Go

When you love someone, let them go.
If they come back, they’re yours forever.
If they don’t, call them up drunk the next night.

A Rotten End To A Lovely Day

Did you ever think when a hearse goes by,
That you may be the next to die?
They take you out to the family plot,
And there you wither, decay, and rot.
They wrap you up in a bloody sheet,
And then they bury you six-feet deep.
And all goes well for a week or two,
And then things start to happen to you.
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The ants play pinochle on your snout!
One of the worms that’s not so shy,
Crawls in one ear and out one eye.
They call their friends and their friends’ friends, too,
They’ll make a horrid mess of you!
And then your blood turns yellow-green,
And oozes out like whipping cream.
[Spoken] Darn, me without a spoon!
Your eyes fall out, your teeth decay
A rotten end to a lovely day
So never laugh when a hearse goes by,
For you may be the next to die.

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