Book Club 2025: Not Me by Eileen Myles

I started reading Eileen Myles in 2019 — I’m not quite sure how I happened onto the book, but the first one I read was Chelsea Girls (which I read on my phone), and then I got some poetry collections (which I also read on my phone). I suspect that I may just have found the name of that first book intriguing? I’m always up for reading stuff about New York, and Manhattan in particular.

Anyway, I’ve slowly been reading my way through these books in approx. random order — and now there’s this collection, which is from the 80s.

And it’s pretty great. The first poem here is amazing, I think, and there’s a reason they put it first. But it’s all good. I love the 80s New Yorkiness of it all. It’s funny and it’s direct.

Not Me (1991) by Eileen Myles (buy used, 4.28 on Goodreads)

Random Comics

Here’s some comics I’ve read over the past… three weeks? Yes, I’ve really been slacking on my comics reading.

I’m learning French, so I’ve been buying masses of French comics… and then not actually reading them, because it’s hard. But I thought I should get my fesses in a gear and just get into it.

Fuck ze tourists by Maltaite & Zidrou is a pretty amusing look at mass tourism. It’s a collection of mostly three page storylets (featuring recurring tourists), and while it’s not exactly well-observed, it’s funny.

Here’s what tourism in Barcelona will look like in years to come, for instance. Seems likely.

This Yuichi Yokoyama book is fantastic — as a physical object, it’s just perfect.

As usual, it’s totally propulsive and engrossing.

It’s a collection of short vignettes, though, so there not that development… but it’s still exhilarating.

They explain that the last piece (the title piece) hasn’t been translated, because it’s not necessary — these are burning sounds.

And indeed, so it is.

Ace.

I bought this in Paris not realising that it was a translation from an American comic — Monsters was published more than a decade ago, but I hadn’t read it.

And… it’s very 90s autobio. It’s about the author having Herpes.

And while reading it, I was wondering whether Ken Dahl was taking the piss? It’s about the Total Angst that he has; feeling like a leper or something. But… like… everybody has Herpes, don’t they? So it was a confusing read — I was starting to wonder whether it was a satire on the form, or whether it was a metaphor for something or…

But then towards the end, his new girlfriend tells him that everybody has Herpes, so er like.

Wat.

But other than that, Dahl is a very talented artist, at least — the various horrifying Herpes sore drawings are amazing.

Reading this book was so easy for me that I started wondering whether I should read other comics that had been translated to French. The hardest part about reading French comics is how much slang there is in many of them, and plays on words, und so weiter. Perhaps translators use more formal French that’s easier to read? So to test my hypothesis, I next read this:

The first Corto Maltese book. It was originally written in Italian, so…

And indeed! I can read most of these pages without help from Google Translate! It’s a pretty wordy adventure, though, so it took me some days to get through it… my brain shuts down after reading French for more than an hour.

I’ve read this many times before in various translations, of course, but this is the first time I’ve read a version in colour. And the colouring is sensitive and well done, but I still prefer the original black and white.

It’s a lovely book — it’s the longest of the Corto Maltese albums, I think? And definitely not the best, but it’s still fantastic.

I got this from here.

It’s a huge newspaperish thing…

… with some comics, but like… eh. I wasn’t very taken with it.

I guess many things are sourced from “found items”? And there’s a long discussion with ChatGPT, and friends don’t make friends read LLM-generated text… but the thing seems to go out of its way to make things hard on the reader — printing things upside down, chopped up, and whatever — and while that can work, you have to instil a confidence in the reader that it’s going to be worth the work. And I had no such belief at all, so I started skipping toot de suite.

I had some problems with The Customer Is Always Wrong by Mimi Pond some years ago — I found it to be a pretty messy read.

This biography of the Mitford Sisters has the opposite problem — it reads without any resistance at all. It’s like listening to a voice-over on a documentary while images flutter endlessly to keep the viewer engaged.

And I do like the artwork, but I absolutely loathe that genre. And I have no interest in these Mitford sisters, so I ditched the book after 70 pages.

I’m sure it’ll end up on everybody’s Best Of list of 2025, and I congratulate Drawn & Quarterly on another hit.

And that’s it.

Book Club 2025: A Murder in Mayfair by Robert Barnard

What a horrible cover design!

Anyway, as usual with Barnard, this is a somewhat unusual mystery. And unusually for Barnard, he keeps the bloviating under control, so things meander along quite nicely.

The solution to the mystery, though, leaves more than a bit to be desired. It’s not a cheat, exactly, but… just not terribly exciting.

OK, next I should read something less mysteryish.

A Murder in Mayfair (1999) by Robert Barnard (buy new, buy used, 3.54 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: A Scandal in Belgravia by Robert Barnard

What a horrible cover design!

I’ve read this before, but it’s been decades. I remember nothing about this except that I think it’s one of the better Barnard books?

But once I started reading it, I realised that it has the best twist of any Barnard books. Barnard always has a twist of some kind, but they’re frequently twists in bits you don’t expect to get twisted, if that makes any sense. That is, instead of a normal mystery twist, it’ll be something totally different — and this book carries that off in the most extreme manner: First we get the solution to the mystery in the normal way (pretty good mystery), and then in the very, very final sentence of the book we get a twist so momentous that you can’t help laugh out loud.

Unfortunately, it’s so memorable that I remembered it several decades afterwards… on the other hand, the mystery itself was OK, so whatevs.

(The book also does display Barnard’s tendency to bloviate about Society And All Its Ills, but it’s not too bad in that dept. I guess you could shave off about 50 pages here, and the book would have been better, but it’s fine.)

A Scandal in Belgravia (1991) by Robert Barnard (buy used, 3.79 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: The Cat Next Door by Marian Babson

Wow, that’s a kinda passive-aggressive pull quote for the cover… “Cat lovers”, “prolific” and “cozy”. I think the subtext here is that no sane people would ever read this kind of churned-out rubbish.

“Enjoyable”. Wow. High praise indeed.

Anyway, I wanted to read something that’s easy on the brains, once again, so here we are.

I guess you could say that the setup here is pretty original. A murder has taken place, and there’s an accused at a trial, but the point-of-view character is a cousin who has returned, and is totally stressed out and exhausted for reasons we’re not told until late in the book. She’s not trying to investigate, either, but is instead just whirring around wringing her hands.

So that’s original, but it’s also really annoying. So while this is a short novel, it feels like it could have been half the length, really — there’s a deadly stasis to the book… until we get to the last quarter, and things start happening. The ending is so eyeroll inducing that it almost makes up for the rest of the book.

The Cat Next Door (2002) by Marian Babson (buy used, 3.54 on Goodreads)