I told you we’d be back, and here we are with the sophomore entry in “Sleeping with Books,” in which my pals and I celebrate the physical cover and page. This pup comes from Dolly Moehrle, a California librarian-in-training who makes me honk like a goose with her perverse and witty from-the-trenches tweets. Dolly first contributed to this blog with an incisive post on the appeal of The Virgin Suicides. In this photo, she looks like one of my little sisters before I bang them over the head with a pillow.
Here’s the dope on her partner (not the cat!):
The sexy book in question is Matterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War by Karl Marlantes, a decorated Marine who served in said war. The novel apparently took 35 years to write, which automatically makes me feel weird since not only is the book thicker than me—it’s older, too.
I have not gotten very far into Matterhorn and may have to return it to my patrons and reacquire it later (despite being fine-exempt as a perk for putting up with the public I still have a sense of honor about the whole thing and try not to abuse the privilege), but what I’ve read so far is probably what you’d expect from a novel on the subject: gritty, dramatic, and dare I use that foul term emotional?
Also, there are leeches and things of that sort. Probably my only other experience with what should surely be termed Vietnam lit is The Things They Carried, a much leaner book and drastically different. So I’m not an expert. I’m enjoying Matterhorn, but if it took 35 years to write, I figure I can take at least ten to finish it.