Books « SimplyOlivia

Women love these fierce invalids home from hot climates

January 7, 2010 by Olivia Wycech

Here I am. www.simplyolivia.com. The warmth in words I have been receiving on my photos and literary works have stimulated me more, more, and more. So this is the next chapter, unveiled. Another relevant chapter is also imminent…

This past Saturday I danced to the Basement Jaxx in Kuala Lumpar, Malaysia (détails plus tard) and the Saturday before that was our Aoki party @ LUXY (encore, détails plus tard) and the Saturday before that a magnitude 6.9 earthquake rattled Taiwan. Don’t be too shocked, this little island gets rocked daily, or more. A few months ago, the Taiwan Weather Bureau recorded over 20 quakes in one day. Thus being, I live on ‘earthquake island’. Taiwan is situated in a seismically active stretch of the Pacific basin. This tremor, however, was THE MOST intense earthquake I’ve ever felt not only in Taiwan, but in my life. It was like riding a small boat over mammoth waves. No major damage or casualties were reported. On this island every small earthquake is a reminder of the big one, the 9/21 Jiji earthquake that recorded a magnitude 7.6 when it struck Taiwan in 1999, killing thousands of people and haunting millions to this day. Here is the quake Wiki’ed and here is a photo essay recount of the disaster TIME.com photo special on Taiwans 9.21.99 earthquake.

Following my last post on the Wind Up Bird Chronicles (the best book I have ever read, in my entire life), a friend passed along a fascinating review that looks at the insights on Japanese psyche found prevalent throughout the novel, so especially interesting to those keen on the psychological and cultural correlations within Japan and the themes in the book: The Wind Up Bird Chronicles review from the JUng Page. FOUR of my friends are concurrently reading the Wind Up Bird Chronicles, making me feel as if I should at once read it over again regardless of the fact I’ve only read it months ago (must finish the Fountainhead…). This same friend filled me in on all the rave that is 1Q84. 1O84 is the most recent novel by Haruki Murakami. The first two volumes of this book have already been published in Japan, the third scheduled for the summer of 2010. All only in Japanese. To learn Japanese or wait for the English edition in September 2011.. How unfair. Taipei houses an underground book market which is just north of the Zhongshan MRT on the red line in the underground mall. Most titles are in Chinese, but it’s worth a curious eye. They had a fetching display (or so I heard) on the book….THAT I MISSED. I arrived to find bare shelves and the only apparent trace of the display was a colossal 1Q84 print on the floor. Sad face. Yet now I’m seeing the cover all around the city, HESS’s window disaplys are even covered. Are there so many Japanese people here? Why the whole affair if not even the locals can read it? Perhaps all Murakami fans are as hardcore as I, searching for hardcore novelty..heh.. Anyway. If the title of this books makes you think of George Orwells 1084, well it should. It is an intentional authorial reference to 1984, only in title, not in theme. The ‘Q’ stands for question mark. Interestingly, until publication, nothing was revealed about this book following criticism that leaks had diminished his previous book’s novelty. Unlikely (from a fan perspective).

Anyway, how about a Robbins recommendation, my most recent of his reads..

Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates by Tom Robbins

“You will never forget your first Robbins book.” If you haven’t yet been made acquainted, now you are. You need to read all of his books yesterday. This tale is that of man who calls himself Switters, a CIA agent who is flawed, indecent, and hedonistic, and who is equally as in love with his 16 year old step sister is he is a 46 year old nun. He crosses continents bound to a wheelchair, though his only ail is a ‘curse’ placed on him after he is sent deep into the dicey jungles of South America to release his dear grandmothers (whom he refers to as Maestra) parrot, Sailor Boy. He walks into a jungle of hallucenegenics and emerges again damned to wheelchair (though he certainly doesn’t appear all that damned by his judgement) after a shaman shows him the secrets of the universe…and he makes a serendipitous sacred snack of Sailor Boy. Still, he makes his way into the middle of the Syrian desert and inhabits an oasis occupied by a group of excommunicated nuns where he attempts to decipher the Three Prophesies of Fatima, a series of revelations reportedly made by the Virgin Mary during World War One (strong underlying religious themes are present and almost all of Robbin’s books). I suppose this is more of a synopsis than my thoughts on the book but the story line is pretty amusing to retell, and my opinion should be easy to gather on this one. I got a lot of information about the book to help with the the details (I read it 11 months ago) here. Read this if you like to hear about how king Tom Robbins is.

This year, December had not yet begun and my Christmas cards were written and my presents wrapped. The season was far more festive than the last, full of poinsettias and only lacking in eggnog. Next year, however, I’ll definitely be trading in a rainy Taiwanese December for a snowy Canadian one. I’m going home (hey parents, can someone fund this joyous occasion??)! Being that Christmas is not a national holiday in Taiwan (although there are quite a few Christians) and I worked 12 hours on the 25th, the spirit is certainly celebrated and the whole city was lively and vibrant with Christmas cheer for nearly two months. Thankfully I didn’t miss out on turkey and stuffing and feasted well. Although Easter I spent shaping meatballs into Turkey using cran and gravy at IKEA…

Xmas in Taiwan

Xmas at school

Meandering ShiDa night market, I found these TAIWACKY Christmas cards. WTF, right? Only in Taiwan… Translations by Sway.

“Don’t move!”

“Come on, I just wanted to send a gift to someone really special”

“Well.. I have nothing… except all the fat on my body… I guess I’ll have to……”

and the pig and the bear says “NO…!!!!!” “please don’t…..!!!!”

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Scooter Hell

December 2, 2009 by Olivia Wycech

It’s beginning the feel a lot like…winter. Today was 18 degrees and also the first day I wore long johns. Strange, that. The weather in Taipei has been that like Indian summer days on the cusp of crisp fall bitterness in Canada. Although I welcome the drop in degrees after another scorching Taipei summer, my bones shiver and chill at the tangible realization that a cold, humid, and damp winter has arrived.

I spent 24 years of my life enduring blizzards and ice storms, essentially Arctic like winters where temperatures often reach -40 degrees Celsius. One from home would scold my complaining of Taipei’s winters, but really, it gets COOOOLD here. Constant rain and humidity make a cool 15 degrees Celsius feel somewhat closer to a nippy zero, minus the frost. Homes here are not heated, there are times where I’m certain I’ve seen my breath whilst purritoed in a duvet, only my face and typing fingers protruding from the duck down layers.

Mom – skip the next paragraph.

This morning I saw, another, scooter wreck. I’ve seen plenty, but never front row like today. I was driving in the tunnel beneath the SongShan Airport, at the north end of Fuxing Road into DaZhi. At top speed, the scooter in front of me drove straight into the back of a stopped truck. The trucks rear acted as a spring board and the driver of the scooter ricocheted off the back of the truck into the wall of the tunnel, his scooter landing on top of him. I was the very next scooter behind him. It was HORRIFYING. The impact was swift and loud, echoing throughout the tunnel. I stopped (slash braked hard), fully in shock, I didn’t know what to do. I was equally as horrified that NOT ANOTHER DRIVER STOPPED. I’ve seen this before, nearly all accidents I’ve been witness to in Taipei, never does a soul stop, they simply scoot around, often crunching over the scattered shards of plastic and glass. Audrey and I once came upon the aftermath of accident, an elderly woman crossing JianGuo had been smoked by a scooter and was lying motionless, probably dead. Not a person came near her, as if she were gravely infected with the plague, and any civilians in the vicinity simply went along in their lives. In Canada, accidents attract masses, whether it’s a trained civilian or a curious bystander, everyone wants to help, even to just offer a call into emergency, or ten. Today, two people stopped, me and the truck driver. Unbelievable.

Taipei has a MAJOR traffic problem, recently relieved somewhat by a fast growing Mass Rapid Transit (MRT, or Metro) system. The population of Metropolitan Taipei, including Taipei county and surrounding areas, is about 10 million. Taipei city covers about 272 square kilometers, and every square kilometer is densely occupied by approximately 10 000 people. Taipei is known as the ’scooter capital of the world’, fittingly. In 2009, the total scooter population in all of Taiwan was 14.2 million (the population of Taiwan is only 22 million), and in 2002 Taipei cities roads were driven by about 1 million drivers (that’s 1/3 of the population of the cities core), outnumbering cars at about 700 000. Scooter hell, armies of scooters at every light, in every alley, on every sidewalk.

Imagine rush hour.

Driving a scooter along Civic Blvd in Taipei

Flickr Video

It’s only December 1st and I’ve finished my Christmas cards, Christmas presents, Christmas movies, Christmas songs, and Christmas decorations. All I’m missing is eggnog. Taipei is bustling with entertainment. Only 49 days until the 6th and final season of LOST, and I’m nose deep into the Fountainhead. As requested, and as promised, this is the beginning of what will become dozens of diverse and varying book reviews. It is likely evident, in my writing mostly, that I am an avid reader. Now, commencing with a few reads from 2009..

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles by Haruki Murakami

The is the first of four Murakami reviews by me, his literary imagination has taken over my soul. I casually borrowed the Wind Up Bird Chronicles from a friend without being familiar with the author, and powered through the 700 or so pages in less than a week. I lost sleep over this book. It blew my mind, like I had no mind left. THIS BOOK IS A MASTERPIECE AND IS THE BEST BOOK I HAVE EVER READ.

Bolded.

The story is many things amidst a search for identity, a search for a missing wife – Kumiko Okadu – but it begins with a quest for a missing cat—Noboru Wataya – a cat named after Kumiko’s older, political, and supernaturally evil brother. The plot advances chronicling a chain of events surrounding the absence of the cat, events that were once seemingly mundane are now surreal and bizarre. We follow Toru Okadu – the protagonist – into his dreams, both lucid and shared, far into the earth where he spends some time in a well, an act inspired by Lieutenant Mamiya – an officer in the Japanese military who accounts his horrifying memories of the military’s efforts in Manchuria – to his eccentric and dark encounters with May Kasahara. Creta and Malta Kano guide Toru metaphysically fusing together fantasy and realism whereas Cinnamon and Nutmeg Akasaka provide Toru with more of a pragmatic and tangible yet still thoroughly surreal direction in his quests.

This book is long and requires some mental muscle, but never do you feel it becoming frivolous. It is full of Japanese culture yet western references are prevalent throughout. Loneliness is an underlying theme, but is never fatalistic. It’s dark, poetic, insightful, it is literary brilliance.

A Spot of Bother and the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon

I probably picked up a Spot of Bother five times and put it down five times over. It is written by the same author who wrote The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, it was also sent to me by a friend in Canada with whom I regularly share interest in many of the same literary works. I could not be bothered with this book, I found it dull and the style irritating, the style of the narrative being the predominant basis of my disinterest. The book is about a 61 year old hypochondriac who discovers a small lesion on his hip that he is certain is cancer although its been diagnosed as eczema. He begins to quietly loose his mind, the sleeve reads. If someone else out there has read and loved this book and thinks an opinion otherwise to mine, I welcome your persuasions in my completing this book. Even so, the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime was nothing less than brilliant. This wonderful story is one of an autistic boy solving the mystery of the murder of a neighborhood dog. This story is both melancholy and delightful, and the author does a beautiful job interpreting the events and the world around as that of a boy who is challenged by his fears and inabilities. I especially recommend this book to one who has a difficult time getting through a book, or needs an easy reintroduction to habitual reading. A terrific gift for any age.

The Way the Crow Flies by Ann-Marie MacDonald

My second read by a fellow Canadian Ann-Marie MacDonald. The first being Fall on your Knees..but I will keep this critique for another day, as I need to ferret through my memory for elements on the read and collect the exemplary words needed to define this stunning novel. I picked up this book, the Way the Crow Flies, on the simple adoration of Fall on your Knees. I saved this book for some time to read in an appropriate atmosphere, and did just that. I read it whilst perched alongside the Nam Song in Vang Vieng, Laos with nothing but enitre days to spend leafing through books. At 900 pages, a simple yet thoroughly engrossing story of a murder in a small Canadian town fills the pages for a swift read. Nazi’s, Russian rocket scientists, sexual predators and the Royal Canadian Airforce meticulously link together themes in secrets, family, loyalties, and morals, and keep this story captivating and strong throughout. I don’t typically enjoy happy endings, Anne Marie MacDonald understands me here. This story is a fictionalized account of the Steven Truscott Case.

And that’s more than enough for moment.

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Sawasdee Bangkok

November 15, 2009 by Olivia Wycech

To quit life and become a nomad gypsy spending it meandering countries huddled alongside the immense and enchanting Mekong, my days spent absorbing literary wisdoms of my favorite authors, basking in the fiery southern sun, and trekking ravishing sceneries bestowed upon by stunning hillsides and breathtaking sunsets, is my greatest dream. I’ve been fortunate enough to experience this for weeks at a time on many occasions, this time not quite in the jungle, but near the edge, a weekend in grimy, gritty, ghetto Bangkok for my birthday. Far away from any parties, I spent it poolside, breaking only to be fed and watered and purchase purses, I was in bed each night watching BBC by dusk. Happens every time.

I hammered through The Time Travelers Wife, a book recommended and given to me by my aunt. I had a tough time wrapping my head around this book as it’s far from my style, but once free of all distractions except the looming threat of a sunburn, I was quickly immersed in the complexly written and emotionally compelling story, tears streaming down my face becoming the swimming pool below. I recommend. I dried my tears and read another cover to cover, by an author highly favored by and an influence on authors I perpetually read, a book I have been holding and anticipating for some time, the Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon. It began so promising in a powerful manner, introducing extraordinarily satirical characters like Mike Fallopian, Manny Di Presso, Dr. Hilarius (the protagonists psychiatrist), but in the end, more like the middle, I was thoroughly dissatisfied. The final 5 pages did finally help shape the book as whole, but I found myself searching for links to its theme over and over throughout. It was frustrating, quite irrelevant more often than not. Perhaps this is because it’s dated, and I am only of the ripe age of 26, though this has never stopped me from enjoying a classic before; but perhaps it is merely because I had such high expectations, as I do of everyone and everything, and this resulted in a greater let down. Fortunately, at 147 pages, and not having packed another book, I finished it. I don’t recommend.

I think I will write a blog solely on book reviews and recommendations. Soon.

Back to Bangkok Dangerous. I sunburned my boobs (every time) and realized there is not enough lemongrass in my life. I found DAIRY QUEEN and a degree from the University of Ottawa for $30CAD. We stayed at the Rambuttri Inn on Soi Ram Buttri, a far more easy going and blasé soi than it’s renowned equivalent Khao San Road. 850 baht ($25CAD) / night for this rooftop. HIGHLY recommend.

180 baht ($5 CAD) for all of this.

That’s stir fried vegetables and tofu over brown rice with a spicy garlic sauce, a fresh mango smoothie, beers, water, and menthols (note the warning pictures on these menthols). Money goes a long, long way in Asia, so you’ve heard. I backpacked Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia for more than a month on less than $1000CAD (Vietnam soon!). Massages in SE Asia are a dime a dozen and drain you of about $5 for an hour for pleasure pains by a little Thai women whose bijou hands are her deadliest weapon. But MaiThai massages are cheap thrills not to be missed.

This was horrifying, particularly playing on my fear of fish. It does not hurt, only tickles. Not so much a massage as an exfoliant. Or a leech like attack. These inch to an inch and a half long ‘doctor’ fish are from Turkey and have a hunger for dead skin. My mom is going to tell me get a grip when she reads this, but I screamed, I SCREAMED, I couldn’t do it. The feeling of these sucker fish between your toes is that of a submersing your feet into just as many hissing cockroaches. So dramatique, I know. You don’t know how long it took to get me to stick my feet in just long enough for Audrey to take this photo. Fear factor.

The floating market was yet another overcrowded money snatching tourist attraction, in which I overheated to that of Bikram and bailed on for refuge in an air conditioned van for the remaining hour of the venture.

In place of birthday cake, I ate grasshoppers and chicken hearts. Becoming Taiwanese! Breakfasted on the big day in Bangkok, lunched mid air with Air Asia, dinnered in Taipei like the Japanese MY BIRTHDAY ON RICE SOCIETY, but the party was on Friday the 13th. Friends came and caroused with Nick Chaney and I as I turned 25 (for the second time) and Nick bid farewell to Taiwan (for the first time, they always come back) in hopes of happier tummies in New Zealand. We made dreams real and memories last in photos and in the heart.