Skammens historie: Den norske stats mørke sider 1814–2014 – Thomas Vestgården og Sigmund Aas

Jeg kan trygt krysse av ruta «Ei (ulest) bok du har eid i mer enn tre år» på vår- og påskebokbingoen med Skammens historie. Jeg tror jeg kjøpte den på Mammutsalget, og siden boka kom ut i 2014 var vel det gjerne i 2016 eller noe sånt?

Boka omhandler de delene av norsk historie som ikke nevnes i festtaler og kanskje gjerne også forties når jubileumsbøker skrives. Vår behandling av jødene – både i grunnloven av 1814 og hele veien fram til andre verdenskrig, fornorskingen av de nasjonale minoritetene, Norges overivrige bruk av lobotomi, behandlingen av «tyskerjentene» og «tyskerungene», sensur av «pornografisk materiale» i statens regi, våpeneksport og til og med aktiv deltagelse i kriger med sviktene moralsk og juridisk grunnlag, lista er lang.

Og det er vel også problemet med boka for meg. Den gaper over for mye, og måten den er strukturert på gjør at alle sakene virker sidestilt, som om aktiv deltagelse i å sende jøder til konsentrasjonsleirene og beslaget av Bjørneboes Uten en tråd er like ille. Jeg har ikke noe problem med å anerkjenne at begge er menneskerettsbrudd og ikke bør forekomme, men likevel.

Det at så mange saker skal dekkes gjør også at forfatterne vanskelig kan gå i detalj på alt, noe som i utgangspunktet er helt greit, men det som ikke føles like greit er når noen historier får minimalt med plass, mens andre plutselig har en unødvendig detaljrikdom, uten at det virker å være noen logikk i hvilke saker som havner i hvilken kategori. Jeg noterte meg for eksempel at myndighetenes behandling av jøder og rom fra 1933 til 1940 ble avspist med 3 sider, mens prosessen mot Bjørneboe beskrives over 9 sider. Det fører også til at store deler av historien faller ut av narrativet, for eksempel fokuseres det på rundt 30 norske barn som ble sendt fra Lebensborn-hjem i Tyskland til Sverige for å bli adoptert bort, og når avsnittet om «tyskerungene» (som uansett bare dekker ca 2 sider») avsluttes kan leseren fort sitte igjen med inntrykket av at de ikke var flere enn disse 30, om hun altså ikke vet bedre.

I tillegg er teksten til tider ustrukturert og rotete, preget av uforståelige gjentagelser, og ofte brå avslutninger. Jeg måtte fram med blyanten og skrive i boka ganske fra start og etter kapitlet om krigsseilerne har jeg for eksempel notert at jeg ikke skjønner hva som egentlig skjedde, det snakkes om tilbakeholdt lønn og pensjon om hverandre og jeg forstår ikke hva forfatterne forsøker å si (annet enn at krigsseilerne ble skammelig behandlet, men det var jo ingen nyhet).

Et eksempel på hva jeg mener med gjentagelser er dette avsnittet fra kapitlet om justismordet på Fritz Moen:

Dette problemet ble løst ved at man lanserte en ny teori: til tross for at 25 uavhengige vitner hadde hørt nødskrik fra en kvinne natt til femte september, trodde politiet nå at drapet hadde skjedd dagen etterpå – søndag 6. september. Da var nemlig Fritz Moen igjen i Trondheim. Politiet trodde et helt år, frem til mistanken ble rettet mot Fritz Moen, at drapet hadde skjedd natt til 5. september 1976. Men etter at mistanken ble rettet mot Fritz Moen, og etter at politiet hadde forsikret seg om at Moens alibi natt til 5. september var uomtvistelig, endret politiet standpunkt med hensyn til mulig drapstidspunkt. Politiet mente at drapet kunne ha skjedd søndag kveld, til tross for at vitner hadde hørt kvinneskrik fra området natt til 5. september. Dette impliserte at de 25 vitnene altså husket feil dag. (Side 234.)

Det er mulig at det er et forsøk på et retorisk virkemiddel her, men jeg blir bare irritert.

Jeg er fornøyd med endelig å ha fått lest boka, og jeg beholder den nok på hylla (ikke minst fordi jeg altså har skrevet i den), og hvis du trenger en relativt kort innføring i noen av staten Norges mindre hyggelige sider kan du gjøre dummere ting enn å plukke den opp. Selv har jeg tenkt å bruke litteraturlista bakest i boka som inspirasjon for videre lesing.

Boka har jeg kjøpt sjøl.

Now We Are Six Hundred: A Collection of Time Lord Verse – James Goss

Jeg fant Now We Are Six Hundred: A Collection of Time Lord Verse av James Goss av alle steder i hylla hos Fretex på Lillehammer. En bok som kombinerer Doctor Who OG A. A. Milne kunne jeg jo ikke akkurat gå fra. Og når «Diktsamling» var en rute på høst- og julebokbingoen fikk jeg sparket bak til faktisk å lese den også.

Det starter bra. Illustrasjonene av Russell T. Davies er sjarmerende og det aller første diktet, ‘Full Stop’, fungerer utmerket og er en intelligent tvist på Milnes orginaldikt (‘The End’). Hvilket Milne-dikt som er inspirasjon oppgis for hvert dikt det er aktuelt for, enkelte dikt er bare generell pastisj.

Men så faller det fra hverandre allerede i dikt nummer to (‘Consultation Exercise’, etter ‘Disobedience’) som serverer både linjer som ikke kan skanderes* og kreativ ordstilling, som her i vers to:

«Quarks, Quarks
Cybermen, Cybermen
Mechonoids, Voord, Zarbi
If your Battlefleet happens to
In the vicinity be
Then I’ll teach you – reluctantly»
(said the Dr, said he)
«To give the Earth a rather wide berth, rather
Than tangle with me.»

(Side 4) I tillegg burde de to siste linjene blitt tre:

«To give the Earth
a rather wide berth,
rather than tangle with me.»

om de skal speile Disobedience (her er de tre siste linjene i vers to):

«I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea.»

Det var ett vers av ett dikt. Det er en liten håndfull til som fungerer i tillegg til det aller første (av totalt femti dikt er det kanskje fem som er brukbare), men det holder ikke. Ikke er det bra pastisj, ikke er det bra som dikt i seg selv. Det bærer preg av en god idé som ble trukket for langt, alternativt en god idé, men en dårlig poet.

Jeg beholder nok boka likevel, siden jeg samler på «Milneania», men det er litt under tvil.

Boka har jeg kjøpt sjøl (brukt).

___________________
* Det var det beste jeg fant for «doesn’t scan» på norsk. Tips meg gjerne om du har en bedre oversettelse, for «skandere» gir meg frysninger på den dårlige måten.

Bout of Books Sign-up and Progress Post

As usual I will join Bout of Books to help kickstart the reading year.

 

The Bout of Books readathon is organized by Amanda Shofner and Kelly Rubidoux Apple. It’s a weeklong readathon that begins 12:01am Monday, January 1st and runs through Sunday, January 7th in YOUR time zone. Bout of Books is low-pressure. There are reading sprints, daily Discord questions, and exclusive Instagram challenges, but they’re all completely optional. For all Bout of Books 39 information and updates, be sure to visit the Bout of Books blog. – From the Bout of Books team

And as usual I will add the daily progress to this post. I will also be trying to participate in the Instagram challenges and will link to those each day.

Monday

Second Term at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 81 – end (37 pages).
Summer Term at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – end (128 pages).
Maskiner som tenker by Inga Strümke, page 138 – 156 (18 pages).
Boy Trouble at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 16 (16 pages).

Total: 199 pages.

Instagram: Currently reading

Tuesday

Maskiner som tenker by Inga Strümke, page 156 – 200 (44 pages).
Boy Trouble at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 16 – end (112 pages).

Total: 166 pages.

Wednesday

Maskiner som tenker by Inga Strümke, page 200 – 214 (14 pages).
More Trouble at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 72 (71 pages).

Total: 85 pages.

Blogged: Now We Are Six Hundred: A Collection of Time Lord Verse – James Goss

Instagram: Auto-buy author

Thursday

More Trouble at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 73 – end (45 pages).
The Tennis Term at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 30 (30 pages).

Total: 75 pages.

Friday

The Tennis Term at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 30 – end (90 pages).
Summer Camp at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 82 (82 pages).
Maskiner som tenker by Inga Strümke, page 214 – 231 (17 pages).
Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian, page 274 – 300 (26 pages).
Natten by Elie Wiesel, page 1-16 (16 pages).

Total: 231 pages.

Saturday

Summer Camp at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 82 – end (30 pages).
Into the Fourth at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 98 (98 pages).
Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian, page 300 – end (84 pages).

Total: 212 pages.

Sunday

Into the Fourth at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 98 – end (24 pages).
The Hockey Term at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – end (158 pages).
Fourth Year Triumphs at Trebizon by Anne Digby, page 1 – 73 (73 pages).

Total: 255 pages.

Summary

Total pages read during the week: 1223. Not too shabby. Ok, so it’s mostly Trebizon, which I ought to know by heart by now, but still.

Interestingly, the two days I read the least were Wednesday and Thursday. Thursday I was busy, and not home until closer to nine in the evening, so that figures. Wednesday, though? I blogged. Which highlights an interesting dilemma. Because I do want to blog about (some of) the books I read, but doing so takes time away from actually reading. So there’s that. Same obviously goes for even half-assed Instagram posts or other social media sharing. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m going to take that as a sign to not beat myself up about all the books I don’t get around to writing about and just accept that that’s the way it has to be.

Bout of Books 36: Signup and progress post

Ok, so, no good reason not to, really. I will again be joining the Bout of Books readathon:

The Bout of Books readathon is organized by Amanda Shofner and Kelly Rubidoux Apple. It’s a weeklong readathon that begins 12:01am Monday, January 2nd and runs through Sunday, January 8th in YOUR time zone. Bout of Books is low-pressure. There are reading sprints, Twitter chats, and exclusive Instagram challenges, but they’re all completely optional. For all Bout of Books 36 information and updates, be sure to visit the Bout of Books blog. – From the Bout of Books team

I will use this post both as my sign-up post and to keep track of progress, and I will be attempting to participate in the Instagram challenge every day.

Monday

The Chronicles of Robin Hood by Rosemary Sutcliff: pages 234 to end (46 pages).
Kulturkrig by Carline Tromp: pages 283 to end (36 pages).
A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit: pages 1-28 (28 pages).
Total: 110 pages.

On Instagram: Currently reading.

Tuesday

La skogen leve by Nora Dåsnes: The whole book (219 pages).
Total: 219 (329) pages.

On Instagram: Recommended read.

Wednesday

A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit: pages 29-52 (23 pages).
The Philosopher, the Dog and the Wedding: The Story of the Infamous Female Philosopher Hipparchia by Barbara Stok: The whole book (296 pages).
Total: 319 (648) pages.

On Instagram: Celebrate diversity.

Thursday

A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit: pages 53-62 (9 pages).
The Nakano Thrift Shop by Hiromi Kawakami: pages 1-24 (24 pages).
Total: 33 (681) pages.

On Instagram: Future vision.

Friday

A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit: pages 63-83 (20 pages).
The Nakano Thrift Shop by Hiromi Kawakami: pages 25-70 (45 pages).
Total: 65 (846) pages.

On Instagram: Favourite feel-good.

Saturday

The Nakano Thrift Shop by Hiromi Kawakami: pages 70-83 (13 pages).
Total: 13 (859) pages.

On Instagram: Recent 5-star read.

Sunday

The Nakano Thrift Shop by Hiromi Kawakami: pages 83-256, finished the book (173 pages).
Total: 173 (1032) pages.

On Instagram: Shelfie.

Done. Just over a thousand pages in a week is definitely not bad. I also published two short reviews during the week of the readathon, which is much better than in an average week:

We’ll call it a success.

Bout of books 33: Signup and progress post

The Bout of Books readathon is organized by Amanda Shofner and Kelly Rubidoux Apple. It’s a weeklong readathon that begins 12:01am Monday, January 3rd and runs through Sunday, January 9th in YOUR time zone. Bout of Books is low-pressure. There are reading sprints, Twitter chats, and exclusive Instagram challenges, but they’re all completely optional. For all Bout of Books 33 information and updates, be sure to visit the Bout of Books blog. – From the Bout of Books team

It’s a good way to kick off the reading year.

Monday

Apple of my Eye by Helene Hanff, pages 74-121 (finished the book).
Stargate – en julefortelling by Ingvild H. Rishøy, pages 1-128 (the whole book).
Mitt klimaregnskap by Anja Bakken Rise, pages 50-70.
Fremmedsteds reisebyrå: Ved havets ende by L. D. Lapinsky, pages 58-66.

Total 203 pages.

Tuesday

Mitt klimaregnskap by Anja Bakken Rise, pages 70-122.
Fremmedsteds reisebyrå: Ved havets ende by L. D. Lapinsky, pages 66-73.

Total 59 pages.

Wednesday

Mitt klimaregnskap by Anja Bakken Rise, pages 122-157.

Total 35 pages.

Not much reading, but on the upside a two-hour meeting with my book club over Teams.

Thursday

Mitt klimaregnskap by Anja Bakken Rise, pages 157-165.
Der du kommer fra by Saša Stanišic, pages 1-23.
Nærmere kommer vi ikke by Monika Steinholm and Anneli Furmark (ill.), pages 1-120.

Total 150 pages (30 prose, 120 graphic novel).

Friday

Nærmere kommer vi ikke by Monika Steinholm and Anneli Furmark (ill.), pages 120-219 (finished the book).

Total 99 pages (graphic novel).

Saturday

Outlaster by Nina Borge, pages 1-44.

Total 44 pages.

Sunday

Mitt klimaregnskap by Anja Bakken Rise, pages 165-244.
Fremmedsteds reisebyrå: Ved havets ende by L. D. Lapinsky, pages 73-77.

Total 83 pages.

Total for the whole week: 673 pages. Not bad.

Queer Lit Readathon wrap-up

Better late than never, ey? I entered a bit of an unplanned blogging-holiday just as the readathon was about to end, but I guess I should summarise the latter half of the week. My last post was written Thursday afternoon, and I had realized I was never going to be able to finish with the TBR I had planned. I read Giovanni’s Room, though, and then searched about for something that might cover a few more squares. Had I remembered to check my e-reader, I could have read the memoir Once a Girl, Always a Boy by Jo Ivester which I’d purchased previously, but I didn’t (I read that a few weeks later instead). However, I suddenly remembered that I had Be Gay, Do Comics lying about unread, so that’s what I finished off my readathon with.

And I will argue that I actually managed to tick off every box. Giovanni’s Room obviously covers Vintage. It was also recommended to me via Twitter by @antonymet when I tweeted about the previous iteration of the readathon. And the «hot and steamy» part definitely gave me summer vibes, even if the «present» of the novel happens in a colder season. Be Gay, Do Comics contain several mini-memoirs, it definitely brought me joy, and I am happy to chose Graphic (novel/memoir/non-fiction) as my pick-my-own cathegory. Which leaves 40 % BIPOC, and since Baldwin, Emezi and brown easily make up more than 40 % of my reading, I don’t even have to start arguing for Tamaki and the various contributors to the anthology to feel like that square is solidly covered. Behold my finished bingo board:

Ok, so for some mini-reviews:

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin was not at all what I expected. I knew next to nothing about it on beforehand, and the only other Baldwin I’ve read is Go Tell it On the Mountain, and obviously I’ve heard a lot about his autobiographical writing. So I guess I had expected something along those lines. However, the fundamentally human aspects of Baldwin’s writing are abundantly present in Giovanni’s Room as well. It is present in the older gay men that have money, but very little else going for them. They may have been young and innocent and full of hope at some point, now they are happy (though happy is definitely the wrong word) to wring whatever scraps of prentend-affection they can out of the young men who depend on them for their income. It is present, of course, in Giovanni, who is, at least at the start of the book, still young and innocent and full of hope, though penniless, and in David, who both falls hard for Giovanni and keeps him at arms’ length, because he is unable to accept the fact that he is a guy that falls for guys.

And the pleasure was never real or deep, though Giovanni smiled his humble, grateful smile and told me in as many ways as he could find how wonderful it was to have me there, how I stood, with my love and my ingenuity, between him and the dark. Each day he invited me to witness how he had changed, how love had changed him, how he worked and sang and cherished me. I was in a terrible confusion. Sometimes I thought, but this _is_ your life. Stop fighting it. Stop fighting. Or I thought, but I am happy. And he loves me. I am safe. Sometimes, when he was not near me, I thought, I will never let him touch me again. Then, when he touched me, I thought it doesn’t matter, it is only the body, it will soon be over. When it was over I lay in the dark and listened to his breathing and dreamed of the touch of hands, of Giovanni’s hands, or anybody’s hands, hands which would have the power to crush me and make me whole again.

(Page 78-79.) It is even there, and I guess that is what I found most suprising, in Hella, David’s fiance, who, by returning to Paris is the catalyst for David’s retrenching and Giovanni’s descent into tragedy.

We had been wandering about the city all day and all day Hella had been full of a subject which I had never heard her discuss at such length before: women. She claimed it was hard to be one.
‘I don’t see what’s so hard about being a woman. At least, not as long as she’s got a man.’
‘That’s just it,’ said she. ‘Hasn’t it ever struck you that that’s a sort of humiliating necessity?’

(Page 110.) I find myself less involved than I’d like to be though. Like David, I am holding all the feelings at arms’ length, though not for the same reasons (and not from choice, I may say). There is something about the love-at-first-sight (or, may I say: Lust-at-first-sight) aspect, which has never appealed to me and always leaves me feeling a little alienated. There is also the first-person narrative, which, I don’t know, I’m finding myself disliking recently. Perhaps there’s just too much of it? I can hardly remember the last book I read with an omniscient narrator, or even a third-person narrative with a singular character perspective.

I can’t really blame Baldwin for either of those, though, so don’t mind me. I am glad to have read Giovanni’s Room, but I was also quite relieved that it wasn’t longer.

Be Gay, Do Comics is a graphic anthology that I picked up after someone mentioned it on Twitter. It features more than 30 cartoonists, and contains the aforementioned mini-memoirs as well as comics about all sorts of LGBTQ+ experiences and history. They vary from the merely very good to the quite excellent, and I will be looking out for the other work of quite a few of these creators.

So that was fun (again). The next week-long readathon is 5 to 11 December, but before that there is a queer lit weekend 25 to 26 September, and I might try to participate in that, too.

Queer Lit Readathon: Three books down, too many to go

It is Thursday afternoon, and I have 2.5 days left of the Queer Lit Readathon. I have finished three books from my TBR, and am covering quite a few squares, but no obvious bingo yet. Anyway, here are my thoughts on the first three.

We Will Not Cancel Us and Other Dreams of Transformative Justice by adrienne maree brown

This tiny little thing, more a pamphlet than a book, has shown up several places in the last few months since it was published, and it seemed like a good fit for the Shorter Than a Novel bingo square, so I added it to my shopping list. brown makes a case for dialogue and reflection rather than «cancel culture».

What we do now is find out someone or some group has done (or may have done) something out of alignment with our values. Some of the transgressions are small–saying something fucked-up, being disrespectful in a group process. Some are massive–false identity, sexual assault.

We then tear that person or group to shreds in a way that affirms our values. We create memes, reducing someone to the laughing stock of the Internet that day. We write think-pieces on how we are not like that persona, and obviously wouldn’t make the sae mistakes they have made. We deconstruct them as thinkers, activists, groups, bodies, partners, parents, children–finding all of the contradictions and limitations and shining bright light on them. When we are satisfied that that person or group is destroyed, we move on. Or sometimes we just move on because the next scandal has arrived, the smell of fresh meat overwhelming our interest in finishing the takedown.

(Page 66.) While her reflections are relevant to everyone who participates on Social Media (which is pretty much everyone right now), I think perhaps you may have to be more directly involved in activist work in order to engage totally with what she is saying. It was all a bit academic to me. She makes it clear in the introduction that she received push-back on publishing the first version of the text online, and claims to have addressed the criticism, however I see from Goodreads comments that some of those who criticised the first version are not happy with this version either, and I must admit to not feeling – while I read it, before having looked at Goodreads – that the issues she claimed to have fixed, especially the difference between harm and actual abuse, were necessarily made clear. In the quote above, for example, she points out that there are different levels of transgression, but it is not at all clear to me that she believes there are transgressions that cannot be resolved through dialogue. Which is a valid opinion, to be sure, but one I can understand that others, even other abolitionists, may not agree.

Anyway, an interesting read, and while not a perfect fit for me it certainly gave me some interesting ideas that will stay with me.

(We Will Not Cancel Us ticks off Intersectional and Shorter Than A Novel)

Harley Quinn: Breaking Glass by Mariko Tamaki and Steve Pugh

This feels like a bit of a stretch, but unless I happen to fall across another queer superhero book by Saturday I’m going to let it stand. I haven’t read much Marvel, neither have I seen the films, but I have the impression Harley Quinn is at least queer coded. This is not apparent in Breaking Glass, however, so I would have nixed this as a queer read were it not for Mama and his gaggle of drag queens.

I enjoy Mariko Tamakis narrative style, Harley’s bubbly chaotic energy is charming and Ivy is a character I’d like to see more of. Steve Pugh’s art is great throughout, with flashes of pure genius. I guess the only drawback for me is the reason I don’t read much Marvel is I… don’t much like superheroes. Or supervillains. I find them kinda… boring. I’d like to read further albums in this series, though, so the conlusion is «Liked it, didn’t love it.»

(Harley Quinn ticks off Superheroes)

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi

The long and the short of it? I didn’t really enjoy it.

I found it fascinating in parts, for sure, and some of the mythology, and especially the off-play between the ancient Igbo mythology and the newer, superimposed Christian mythology, was interesting and even enjoyable, but… I am unsure how much is down to the way the book is written (this review from David points out some flaws I also noted, beware spoilers galore) and how much is down to my now pretty settled atheism and, for lack of a better description, aspirituality.

Like several other Goodread reviewers I felt that the lack of plot and the emphasis on narrative monologue from the spirits that inhabit Ada made it more difficult to connect with the story. Also: I don’t believe in any gods, and the spiritual way of interacting with the world is foreign to me (in every sense, not just because this particular version of spirituality is literally foreign). I like books that play with mythology, but I feel like the difference between the books I have liked and this one is that the former are very clearly fantasy, while Freshwater seems to ask me to accept ogbanje and Ada’s being godly as something real, something that belongs in a contemporary literary novel and not in a fantasy setting. A sort of spiritual version of experiences and behaviours that a eurocentric culture would probably classify as gender fluidity and multiple personalities. And it just doesn’t work for me, unfortunately.

However, I also felt, like several other reviewers, that this might be as much a lack in me as a reader as a fault of the book itself per se. Or perhaps not so much a lack in either of us, more a disconnect, an acknowledgement that while this is not for me, there is obviously something here that speaks to a lot of other people.

(Freshwater ticks off Group Read, Hard Hitting Contemporary, M-Spec, Not Set on You Continent, Under-represented Identity and Religion)

And so we have my bingo board as it stands right now:

And now what? I will read Giovanni’s Room next (which will cover Vintage and Rec’d), but I am looking at the remaining stack of novels and realising I am not going to read them before the week is up. Partly because there is simply no way I’ll be able to read that many pages by the end of Saturday and partly because Freshwater made me crave (rational, non-spiritual) non-fiction. I haven’t covered the Memoir square on the bingo board, so I will attempt to get hold of something that can fit that slot, I think. If it can be persuaded to have summer vibes and to bring me joy in addition, I am well set, but that might be a push.

Update and Queer Lit Readathon tbr

So how’s my reading year 2021 going? Well. Splendidly, I’d say.

Skjermdump fra Goodreads som sier at jeg har lest 80 av 100 bøker og derfor ligger foran skjemaet med 38 bøker i årets utfordring.

It must be said that 26 of those are rereads of the St. Clares, Mallory Towers and Trebizon series, which are pretty short books and since I’ve read them before I basically inhale them and read 2-3 in a single day. Still, even that is a few good hours of reading time. And of course it leaves more than 50 other books read, so even leaving those 26 out of the counting (though why would I?) I am nicely on track to beat the challenge I set myself.

Anyway, what I really wanted to do was tell you about my tbr for the coming Queer Lit Readathon. It will be my second time participating (you can read my wrap up of the last one here), and like last time I am aiming for a completely filled bingo board, though I realise it is somewhat overambitious when I look at the physical pile of books I need to finish to attain that goal. In the last Readathon the only square I couldn’t check off was the Group Read, since the book was delayed from the webshop I ordered it from. There is a distinct whiff of history repeating itself right now, as I have yet to receive this round’s group read, Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi. I belive it has been dispatched, though, so there is hope.

Bingo board for the Queer Lit Readathon, four by four squares in rainbow colours with the categories detailed in the text below.

Well, here we go:

Memoir: We Will Not Cancel Us: And Other Dreams of Transformative Justice by adrienne maree brown. I admit to being unsure of whether this actually counts as a memoir, but I found it on a list of «best queer memoirs of <year>», so I’m hoping it works.

Group Read: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi – if it arrives…

Hard Hitting Contemporary: Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart.

Choose Your Own Category: I have not decided yet, but I’ll try to come up with a fun one that one of my books fit.

Shorter Than a Novel: We Will Not Cancel Us: And Other Dreams of Transformative Justice by adrienne maree brown.

Brings You Joy: I have high hopes for You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson.

M-Spec: You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson

Not Set on Your Continent: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi (but also most of the others, so this one should be easy)

Intersectional: We Will Not Cancel Us: And Other Dreams of Transformative Justice by adrienne maree brown.

Vintage: Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

Summer Vibes: Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman

Superheroes: Harley Quinn: Breaking Glass by Mariko Tamaki and Steve Pugh. I am going to argue Harley Quinn counts as a superhero, but I might be out on a limb on this one.

Underrepresented Identity: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi

Religion: Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

Recommended: Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin was recommended to me by @antonymet in the last round.

40%+ BIPOC: I believe the only non-Bipoc author on my list is Douglas Stuart, so I guess I’m ok.

So… I realise I have a pile. Baldwin and Brown are luckily quite short, and the comic/graphic novel is too, but in the other four I have almost 1400 pages to get through. I may have to cheat a bit and start before Sunday. Or I can switch out Shuggie Bain for one of the others, certainly Summer Bird Blue sounds like it ought to fit the «Hard Hitting Contemporary» box, too. But I really want to read Shuggie Bain. Well. We’ll see.

If you’d like to take part, or just want some ideas for queer books to read, check out these:

And I’d certainly suggest following @queer_lit on Twitter and/or Instagram.

Note that I have only seen parts of the videos linked above, as this is me:

Riordathon2020: Godly Parents

Som nevnt i innlegget om The Land of Green Ginger bestemte jeg meg spontant for å bli med på runde tre av #Riordathon2020, The Percy Jackson edition, organisert av @bokpanda, @bookstrider og @lesehjornet siden den ene boka slo ikke bare to, men seks fluer i en smekk. Forsvarlig behandling, som jeg allerede hadde lånt fra biblioteket, passet perfekt inn på oppgaven «anbefalt av en venn», og siden det er det eneste punktet som må oppfylles av en bok som ikke brukes på flere punkter har jeg ikke engang vurdert om den oppfyller andre krav. Nå holder jeg på med The Outlaws of Sherwood av Robin McKinley, det er både gjenlesing og gjenfortelling og oppfyller derfor punkt 4 dobbelt opp, og dessuten punkt 11. Deretter har jeg en slags plan om å lese Min vei, Ruth Reeses selvbiografi som jeg ble tipset om på Twitter for noen uker siden. Den fikk jeg tak i i hardcover hos min lokale bruktbokpusher, så den dekker i alle fall oppgave 1.

Etter det får vi se. Jeg har fram til slutten av januar, så det skal ikke stå på tiden, nødvendigvis, men jeg skal helst finne bøker på TBR som passer til de siste oppgavene, jeg trenger ikke egentlig å få lagt bøker til TBR, kan du si. Men det gjenstår bare fem punkter, og siden man kan velge seg både våpen og «forelder» og dermed påvirke oppgaveinnholdet virker det ganske overkommelig. Det er naturlig for meg å velge enten sverd eller bue og pil, siden jeg «kan» å bruke begge IRL, og siden jeg alt har dekket «furies» som bua eliminerer er det vel smart å velge sverd… Da kan jeg kutte ut den oppgaven jeg ønsker. Av gudommelige foreldre faller det nærliggende å tenke at jeg nok hører hjemme hos Dionysos/Bacchus, med tanke på hva jeg blogger om i tillegg til bøker. Da kan jeg dessuten kutte ut enda en oppgave ved for eksempel å ta meg en whisky, og det er vel lite sannsynlig at jeg ikke skal ha meg en whisky en eller annen gang i løpet av januar.

Har du også lyst til å bli med på lesemaratonet anbefaler jeg å sjekke instagramkontoene til arrangørene (altså @bokpanda, @bookstrider og @lesehjornet). De har alle detaljer i høydepunkter i stories. For oversikt over oppgaver sjekk pdf på google drive og for oversikt over gudommelige foreldre og hvilke fordeler de gir kan du sjekke nettsiden: Godly parent guide.

Min liste så langt:

1. Medusa: read a hardcover book – Min vei
2. Lupa: read a book with a parent character – The Land of Green Ginger
3. Furies: read a book with a bird on the cover – The Land of Green Ginger
4. Chimera: read a re-telling or a re-read – The Outlaws of Sherwood
5. Lycanthrope: read a book with a mythical creature – The Land of Green Ginger
6. Cerberus: read a book with an animal on the cover – The Land of Green Ginger
7. Cyclopes: read a book with imprisonment – The Land of Green Ginger
8. Titans: read a book where someone/something is overthrown
9. Sphinx: read a book with a tragedy
10. Scylla: read a book with a blue cover, or a ship on the cover/in the title
11. Centaur: read a book about hero – The Outlaws of Sherwood
12. Minotaur: read a book with a strength
13. Empusa: read a book with demons or an evil character – The Land of Green Ginger
14. Charybdis: read a book with a trap or a plot-twist
15. To close the doors: read a book recommended to you by a friend. This is the one that can’t be doubled, it has to be one of a kind to close the Doors of Death – Forsvarlig behandling

The Land of Green Ginger – Noel Langley

The Land of Green Ginger av Noel Langley er riktignok bare delvis grønn utenpå, men siden den har ordet grønn i tittelen tenkte jeg den fikk godkjennes som januarbok i @grefvinnans #färggladahyllvarmare – en utfordring på Instagram. Den har i alle fall stått på hylla i noen år, kjøpt – selvsagt – fordi Neil Gaiman har blurbet (og skrevet forord). Først utgitt i 1937, revidert og forkortet i 1966 og deretter forkortet enda mer, har den visstnok ikke vært ‘out of print’ siden den kom ut. Utgaven min har teksten fra 1966.

På Goodreads er mange veldig entusiastiske, på lik linje med Gaiman, men jeg tør vedde på at majoriteten av dem har lest boka som barn og har et nostalgisk forhold til den, for i ’66 (og ’37) var nok dette ganske orginalt og spennende, men med 2021-øyne er dette… vel. Det er pur eksotisering av orienten, det hadde ikke akkurat vært vanskelig å rive den i fillebiter med postkoloniale briller.

Historien er tydelig inspirert av 1001 Natt, og hovedpersonen er Aladdins sønn Abu Ali. Bokas handling og «cultural appropriation» strekker seg fra Persia og Arabia via Samarkand til Kina (der Aladdin av en eller annen grunn er keiser), og ikke bare fremstilles det som at disse statene er maks et par dagsreiser (på kamel eller til fots) fra hverandre, men navnene til persongalleriet er ordlek med klisjemessig arabisk-, persisk- og kinesisk-lydende ord uten videre logikk i hvor personen kommer fra og hva hen heter (som de onde prinsene Tintac Ping Foo og Rubdub Ben Thud fra hhv Persia og Arabia). Ser man bort fra det er historien forsåvidt søt og til dels underholdende, men handlingen er styrt av tilfeldigheter og usannsynlig flaks og uflaks. Det eneste positive jeg kan si er at det er et par morsomme hendelser helt i starten; «the special meetings of state» er ganske fornøyelige, og at Langley får til vellykket lek med språket når han bare holder seg til engelsk i stedet for tulle-orientalsk (de to onde prinsene blir introdusert som «vapid, villainous, vindictive, vengeful, vexatious, wilfully wicked» og «small, fat, footling, fatuous, infantile, infuriating, wantonly wicked» for eksempel).

Aldri så galt at det ikke er godt for noe: Jeg hadde såvidt begynt på The Land of Green Ginger når jeg oppdaget at del tre av #riordathon2020 (organisert av @bokpanda, @bookstrider og @lesehjornet) var i gang, og boka gjør faktisk at jeg kan krysse av hele seks av punktene på lista, så da bestemte jeg meg brått for å bli med. Det krever riktignok litt mer gjennomtenkte valg for resten av bøkene jeg skal lese framover, men det skal vel være mulig å få til noe.

Boka har jeg kjøpt sjøl.