Books I Read: The Art of War
A must-read for those who want to preserve their defenses and destroy their enemies using ancient strategies.
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A must-read for those who want to preserve their defenses and destroy their enemies using ancient strategies.
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Linda Williams’ Hard Core: Power, Pleasure, and the “Frenzy of the Visible” is a rigorously academic work that seeks to trace the history of pornographic movies and explore what their content reveals about their viewers. Dense and filled with academese, the book tackles adult content with all the sexiness of a spatula. While not strictly feminist, Williams’ work privileges feminist porn over not-feminist porn while failing to identify if there is an actual difference between the two beyond an ultimately failed marketing ploy. This book is a buzzkill.
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Earlier this year I read Parasitic City #0.1 by Shintaro Kago which is totally insane, so when I came across a copy of Parasitic City #0.2 I knew I had to have it. Do you like the apocalypse? Do you fantasize about your body being torn in half and the two halves functioning independently? Do you have erotic fantasizes in which people torn in half by the apocalypse have body horror sex? If the answer is yes, you will love this book. I did.
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This year, I decided to read only books with pictures. In August, I read four books. (You can find all my short book reviews here.) My favorite was Susan Meiselas’ Mediations: “a wonderful overview of her career, development as a photographer, and efforts to rebalance the power dynamics between photographer and subject.” My least favorite was Johnny Ryan’s Porn Basket: “the artistic equivalent of watching a child play with its own feces.”
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I regret spending money on Johnny Ryan’s Porn Basket. It’s the artistic equivalent of watching a child play with its own feces. The child thinks it’s hilarious; you shake your head. Ryan seems chronically stuck in a reflexive need to attempt to offend, but his work is uninteresting and redundant. I like art that offends; I’ve created some of it myself. But this is merely dull. If you’re an eight-year-old boy, you’ll love this book.
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I bought a copy of Trulee Hall, a monograph about the artist, after seeing her work at MOCA. I was blown away by Witch House, which is insane and amazing. The book features essays and commentary and an interview. If you’re looking to embrace your inner ick or wade in the goo of sex or shift your ideas around the kinds of art women can create, this book is a good place to start. Hall: “I don’t differentiate between high and low and right and wrong, but I’m more likely to gravitate to something ‘low’ and ‘wrong.’”
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Kevin Sampsell’s I Made an Accident dazzled me with its beautiful, mysterious collages and pried my brain open with its curious, dreamy poems. I really loved how the art and prose play together, suggesting new connections, making a meta collage of images and words in book form. Accidents never looked this good. Delightful.
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I really loved Susan Meiselas’ Mediations. It provides a wonderful overview of her career, development as a photographer, and efforts to rebalance the power dynamics between photographer and subject. I particularly enjoyed the essay by Eduardo Cadava, which manages to be both personal and theoretical. Recommend.
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This year, I decided to read only books with pictures. In July, I read four books. (You can find all my short book reviews here.) My favorite was Barbara Nitke’s American Ecstasy; from my review: “I read and pored over this book at a glacial pace because I didn’t want it to end.” My least favorite was E. M. Carroll’s A Guest in the House; from my review: “I had to search the internet to try and understand [the ending].”
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I can’t remember the first time I encountered Barbara Nitke’s American Ecstasy series, but it was a very long time ago. And more recently when I realized I’d never owned the book version, I wasn’t sure why. Then I remembered that I was sick when it was published. So, finally, I ordered it. And this book just dazzles. During my career, I have spent quite a bit of time on adult movie sets as a journalist, and I have never encountered a woman who had a similar experience, which is captured in this magnificent volume. In her own words, the words of the performers and crew, and her dazzling photos, she brings to life the often hidden adult business, what it’s like to insert yourself into its making, and what we can learn when we take the time to look at and listen to a part of capitalist production that due to its preoccupation with erotic fantasy is often misunderstood and frequently vilified. I read and pored over this book at a glacial pace because I didn’t want it to end. This is better than Larry Sultan’s The Valley. This is the real thing.
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Moord in Rotterdam is not for the faint of heart. It compiles crime scene photos taken by the Rotterdam police between 1905 and 1967. The cover features a woman who un-alived herself. She appears to be napping. Her lookalike doll is at her side. Is it creepy, beautiful, tragic? The scene is in the eye of the beholder. Flipping through the pages of homicides, suicides, and crimes of passion, one is struck by the grand artistry of it all. I don’t know whether to credit the Rotterdam police for their photography skills or chalk it up to fantastic editing of a gruesome body of work. A great pick for fans of Joel-Peter Witkin and Wisconsin Death Trip.
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E. M. Carroll’s A Guest in the House is a tricky book to review because about 90% of it is terrific. It’s a dark, weird, gloomy story about what happens when you marry a man who seems normal and it turns out he may have murdered the wife before you. One of the most exciting things about the book is how it occasionally explodes out and across the page in moments of colorful surrealism. So, mostly, I really liked this book. But the ending left me baffled. It felt rushed, patchworked together, and I had to search the internet to try and understand it. Your experience may vary. But in general, this is a great work. She didn’t nail the ending.
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I’ve read Gay Talese’s “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold” several times, so when I saw Taschen had produced this oversized version with photos by Phil Stern, I had to have it. I really enjoyed re-reading Talese’s work this way, Stern’s photos, and the ephemera that includes Talese’s hand-drawn outline for the work. A good buy.
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This year, I decided to read only books with pictures. In June, I read three books. (You can find all my short book reviews here.) My favorite was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland: Tove Jansson Edition which I called “vibrant and beguiling.” My least favorite was Art Monsters by Lauren Elkin which I did not finish.
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I guess I have sort of a strange relationship to Desolation Jones, because I was the inspiration for one of the characters in it: Filthy Sanchez, a kind of Los Angeles porn czar who says things like: “Everything goes better with bukkake.” I believe that I only ever read the first comic in this series, so when I saw that the first six had been republished in a single volume, The Biohazard Edition, I had to buy it. The quality of the book is great — oversized, colorful — and I enjoyed reading the full narrative. There was also a short return of Sanchez at the end that I hadn’t been aware of previously. The story itself is about a man who has PTSD from having his brain fucked and is on a quest for some Hitler porn. If you like your comics weird and filthy, this one is for you.
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Art Monsters by Lauren Elkin was my first DNF (did not finish) of the year. I really tried, but I just could not get through this. There’s a certain type of woman writer who seems pathologically afraid of taking a position, determined to privilege the work of others above her own work, and whose lived experienced appears to be largely based on content she’s absorbed through a screen. Riffing polysyllabically on the contradictory nature of art and literature isn’t the same as art criticism; it’s just making noise. This book — as far as I made it — read like a senior thesis that got a book contract. Maybe it gets better. I’ll never know.
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Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland: Tove Jansson Edition combines two of my favorites from childhood: a marvel of literature and the creator of the Moomins universe. So I was delighted to learn this book united the two. Rereading Lewis Carroll’s text was illuminating—how willy-nilly he is with language and imagery and how much magical conjuring happens when a creator allows pretty much anything to sprout from his brain. I adore Jansson’s images for the text. They are more vibrant and beguiling than the originals. My favorite illustration features Alice peering over the lip of the mushroom to consider the caterpillar.
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This year, I decided to read only books with pictures. In May, I read seven books. (You can find all my short book reviews here.) My favorite book was David Lynch’s Catching the Big Fish, which has no pictures but I made an exception because I’m a big Lynch fan: “My favorite part is when he talks about Mulholland Drive’s box and key and says, ‘I don’t have a clue what those are.’” My least favorite book was Charles Burns’ Caprice, which, although interesting and enjoyable, was a collection of images with no narrative: “The themes are classically Burnsian: girls in trouble, blobular creatures, impossible landscapes.”
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Caprice by Charles Burns is a small thing. It’s not really a comic book, per se. And it’s certainly not a graphic novel. It’s a collection of fictional comic book covers, apparently. The themes are classically Burnsian: girls in trouble, blobular creatures, impossible landscapes. It’s an interesting journey through a curious mind.
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I wish I hadn’t waited so long to read Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis because it is incredible. A feminist Maus, it takes a young girl’s story as its subject to examine the broad themes of identity, empowerment, and resilience. The drawings are simple, but the impact is powerful. A must-read for all, including young people.
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