All the books I read in July and what I thought of them

In July, I read 5 books and I liked all of them, and I also went to the Rita's in Walpole with Kate, and I had the passionfruit flavor, and it was very good, which was shocking because the only good Italian ice flavor is lemon. I also attended a crossword tournament and went to the beach. But I didn't listen to the July Hozier song even once so I didn't get anything out of this month and it was all vanity.

First, I read The Third Policeman by Flann O'Brien; the author of this book is clearly a lot of fun, but I didn't understand what anything was leading up to or what the point was. Hozier wrote two whole songs about this book. In retrospect, I guess I am pretty ambivalent about it, but I also probably should have been paying closer attention, and then I might have understood better. 

Then, I read Vladimir Nabokov's translation and commentary of Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin. I liked that it was very wistful and cynical, and the writing was devastatingly beautiful. I understand why everything is somehow about Pushkin for Russians. The main character Eugene feels cynical about becoming an adult, and I think Pushkin the narrator sort of agrees that growing up is terrible and mundane, but he also doesn't think Eugene handles his anxiety well. And it also seems like it doesn't really matter whether or not you feel like you have a future, because whether you feel like you have a future has nothing to do with whether you in fact live long enough to have a future, and then what are you going to do? Vladimir Nabokov is a very funny and intensely petty commentator, but I wish he made just a few things rhyme. I think I would recommend this book to everyone. The love interest is named Tanya!! (Her name is Tatiana.) Tanya is also the name of one of my lovely roommates. 

Then, I read The Slynx by Tatyana Tolstaya. I have mixed feelings about this book because I still think about it sometimes, but I'm not sure how much I actually enjoyed it. It is an entry into the genre that really fascinates me currently: something really big or devastating happens and the whole world reverts to a pre-modern or frozen state wherein progress is impossible and the progression of time has no meaning. I want there to be some sense that no one's actions matter and no one really knows what to do with their life anymore. If have read any good books like this, I am desperate to know what they were. In The Slynx there has been presumably a nuclear apocalypse and the characters are missing a lot of technology and live in a feudal-themed town that probably has a lot of parallels with authoritarian Russia. Some of the characters are very old because they survived the apocalypse and became amortal, and I liked how they were still clinging to their memories of the past but were totally unable to pass down their knowledge and values to the younger generations. There was so much disconnect between the young people (like the protagonist) and the older generation, but I didn't like the protagonist or the other people his age very much, so I wish we saw more of the older generation's perspective. That was what I would have been really interested in. 

I read two other books as well, but they were very short. Ms Ice Sandwich is about a kid who is so fascinated by a woman who works at a convenience store and sells sandwiches, even though everyone else thinks her face is kind of funny and other negative things. I thought he was so charming, and I enjoyed reading about him becoming more emotionally mature with the people around him and learning from all of his myriad young person feelings. I read Hippolytus IN ANCIENT GREEK, and it was really hard but I DID IT and I learned so many new words, and I feel like a god. I've written, like, a 10 page essay about Hippolytus already, so I'm not going to write a review, but it's a great play and I love Hippolytus, and I even like Phaedra in Greek. You can please feel free to send me flowers for my accomplishment. 

I finished writing the rest of this blog post today (August 9) because I am told it is Book Lovers Day! This is of course not a real holiday. Women in Translation month is also in August (not July), which is a real shame since fully 40% of the books I read in July were by women in a foreign language, AND FOR HIPPOLYTUS THE WOMAN IN TRANSLATION WAS ME. [takes a bow] 

The Third Policeman by Flann O'Brien ⭐⭐⭐

Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin ⭐⭐⭐⭐

The Slynx by Tatyana Tolstaya ⭐⭐⭐

Ms Ice Sandwich by Mieko Kawakami ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Hippolytus by Euripides ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐