44th and Geary

Carmelita Street

Book Review: Natsuo Kirino: Grotesque

Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


A novel whose characters are deceptive, delusional, jealous and confused gives the reader an abundance of voyeuristic material to weed through. Tackling beauty, sexuality, and merit among families and friends within Japanese society. Also, the main character and her sister are mixed race, (half-Swiss, half-Japanese) this may be the first Japanese novel I read that tackles "haffu" as a theme and includes Western characters with significant roles.

The book is a manifestation of the narrator, her monologue about her "monstrously" beautiful sister and those she's affected. Included are the sister's journals, a classmate's journals, and the confession of her murderer. All these accounts align with each other, hearing dual sides of the story, where each person's perception immediately falls into question. Sex and prostitution act as weapons against the authority of men but not without its consequences.



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Red Pen Bear

: restless dreams; getting off to a late start; C. and I chat in the living room, hadn’t seen her in a while; “Your hair looks really good today. Maybe it’s the sunlight streaming in.”; was going to walk but took the bus; reading Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys; at Peet’s a medium coffee went up 5 cents to 2 dollars. “Did the price just go up?” I ask. “Yup,” the guy answers, clearly deflecting an obvious and well asked question; A pendulous day; the coffee maker works! C. got it going, somehow, “Maybe your crazy,” she suggests. “Maybe you’re right,” I say; we talk at the kitchen table about freedom, patriotism related to gay marriage, “Think of the waste of energy these people generate in their resistance to gay marriage and they call themselves patriots.”; T. comes home followed by A.; watch Rupaul’s Drag Race while they get dinner, eat toast with peanut butter and raisins, wine; later, we play Rock Band, sing “Space Oddity” and “Sister Christian”.

Vessel Log: 2011 04-25

: Shannon McArdle: Summer of the Whore while riding the bus; craving a gourmet cheeseburger and garlic fries; go for Bi Bim Bab at Wolfe’s; are we winding down, or winding up?; Jennifer Egan interview about her early writer’s life; on the way home, sleep a few minutes on the 38, contemplate dinner; stop at Walgreen’s, new hair product, shaving cream, wine, peanut butter, raisins; am I talking to myself?; so many ingredients for a tuna sandwich; Jeopardy and then a few episodes of Rupaul’s Drag Race and a few United States of Tara; USoT really weaves me around, feel more engaged with the world; a man crosses Geary with a large backpack; I worry about setting fires; not so tired tonight before bed; continue reading Grotesque.

Easter Sunday: Hunky Jesus

: Happy Easter; A.’s getting ready for her trip to Alcatraz; we walk in misty rain to Joe’s Café for breakfast before seeing her off on the 1; a taxi cab picks up some Asian seniors, an older lady has trouble getting into the passenger side, “It’s too high!” she says. “I don’t think that door is shut all the way,” A. says. “She better not fall out,” I say; stop for an orange juice and then a coffee; back home T. is on his computer before meeting some friends for brunch; the sun breaks out; rolling A.’s red luggage to the 38 bus stop, buy a bottle of Gnarly Head, Pinot Grigio and a wine opener; need to yell, “Back door, please!” while lumbering with the luggage; the 33 in the Haight picks up stoned kids wearing Cannabis and silver garland crowns, a Liverpool accent, eating Puff chips, “Remember when we were on this bus singing ’99 Bottles of Beer’ and ‘The Wheels on the Bus’! That was so fun!” and “I drank a bottle of acid at home and got on this bus. At every turn I’d raise my hands and go, ‘Yeah!’ I didn’t know where we were. I was all, ‘Where are we GOING?!’ like we were being kidnapped,” a guy says. They are also going to Dolores Park for the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Easter Celebration; D. finds me, a sea of color, shirtlessness, make-up, Easter hats; C. is there, we drink wine and watch boys dance like the Andrew Sisters, musical numbers, and costumes; a man in a rabbit fur coat with his scrotum pierced; A. finds her way to our little nest of bread, cheese and wine; Hunky Jesus contest, Yoga Jesus, THE Hunky Jesus disrobes to a cheering crowd, and Jesus F@cking Christ who takes it all; we linger before moving to Café Flore; A. and I take an F train downtown to bring her to CalTrain; On 4th we run into R. and a friend of his from high school, wearing rabbit ears; at the train station I watch A. check her ticket and walk to the train, she turns around for a final goodbye and I wave too. As she gets in, I tear up myself; walk to the Hole in the Wall for a beer, a guy approaches, hesitates and walks away, “You have superpowers,” another guy says to me. “You can make people drunk at the snap of a finger.”; meet D. at the Edge, feels like ages to get there; a drunk guy we want to escape from; take the 33 to the 38 and stop at Subway before going home; T. plays Rock Band, the synthesizer, “Space Oddity”; after a shower, I pour myself into bed, thankful for the second pillow.

Sonoma

Golden Gate Bridge

Janet #1's!

Playspace

The Eagle #2

Fabulous

Big & Juicy

Tickets

Open Studios

: gather a sack of laundry, the whites and brights, haul on my shoulder into a chilly morning; the coffee shop with a bagel and vegetables, reading Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino on the couch, a toddler smiles and waves at me before getting on the other couch; singing to Annie Lennox: Diva; getting dressed for Open Studios, missed a bus so stop into The Blarney Stone for a beer; stop at Starbuck’s on 2^nd Street, wait for D.; people roaming the halls, in and out of studios; meet C.’s parents; helping hand out Tecate’s; the arrival of the taco truck and the winding line; a burrowing cough in my lungs; take the bus downtown with D. he goes to the gym then to Deco, I to the 38; then Gaspare’s to order dinner, take it home; T. plays Rock Band drums, C. and W. work on their laptops; wine with United States of Tara and some of Nurse Jackie; crawl into bed, eager for the black.

Our Lady

Rat Girl

William McKinley