As I say at the beginning of every year, you can look back at the first-ever Evan Yeong Literary Awards in 2014 for a fuller description of my relationship with reading, which in turn led to their inception.
While eventually I’ll run out of ways to write this, the purpose of the third installment of the Evan Yeong Literary Awards is to shine a spotlight on an artistic medium that has taken a bit of a back seat as screen media becomes increasingly more prevalent, calling attention to a select handful of books I read these past 12 months. In 2015 every pick was objectively a winner, but given the rocky year following it’s no surprise that these awards have their ups and downs.
In 2016 my resolution was, just as it will likely be every year moving forward until it becomes unfeasible, to read more than the year before. That said I was devastated to do the final count to see that I read exactly the same number as I did in 2015. You can check out a full list [with the exact dates of when I read each one] at this link.
wokest novel, PRE-2000’s
The Wayward Bus by John Steinbeck
Although it’s fallen out of fashion since the time of its coinage in 2015, “woke” is still the most concise way to say “aware of racism and social in justice”. Throughout a novel that could serve merely as a cautionary tale of public transportation Steinbeck communicates time and time again that even though he lived as a person of great privilege, during an era where those privileges were even greater than they are now, he wasn’t afraid to pen several scathing indictments against the very class he was a part of.
most disappointing, though by no means awful
Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
The fault with this YA novel can be laid at the feet of those who framed it as a solid example of an interracial relationship in the genre. Although the titular Park is half-Korean the fact is that this is not something he personally relates to as a character, and certainly isn’t a factor that others take into consideration when viewing him [save for Eleanor, who gushes over his features in a way that borders on the fetishistic]. Apart from that this book very competently portrays the familial issues that can plague teenagers, as well as the most authentic depiction of how intense young love can be that I’ve ever read. Continue reading
Posted in America, art, history, race, relationships, review, sex, writing
Tagged Celeste Ng, Eleanor & Park, Ellen Ladowsky, Evan Yeong Literary Awards, Everything I Never Told You, history, How to Dump a Guy: A Coward's Manual, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Jill Lepore, john steinbeck, Judy Pasternak, Juneteenth, Kate Fillion, Kody Keplinger, Let It Be Morning, literature, novel, race, Rainbow Rowell, Ralph Ellison, relevant, romance, Sayed Kashua, Sunjeev Sahota, The Day I Shot Cupid: Hello My Name is Jennifer Love Hewitt and I'm a Love-aholic, The Duff, The Name of War: King Philip's War and The Origins of American Identity, The Wayward Bus, The Year of the Runaways, wokest, YA, Yellow Dirt: An American Story of a Poisoned Land and a People Betrayed
You can read a better introduction at the beginning of last year’s awards, but I can quickly fill in for any new readers out there that I began reading at a fairly young age and continued on to study literature in college. That being said reading and literature have been a part of my life for about as far back as I can remember.
This second installment of the Evan Yeong Literary Awards seeks to once again call attention to the artistic medium that I love most, taking note of the books I read in the past year and [at least this time around, solely] praising the standouts. A lot of pages were put away in 2015, and it was actually a challenge this year to keep the number of winners to just under a dozen.
In 2015 I once again resolved to read 52 books and this time met my goal; sweet success. You can check out a full list [with the exact dates of when I read each one] at this link.
book that most helps “the cause/mission”
Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman
The former as used by the hosts of the podcast Black Men Can’t Jump and the latter being the name of Joseph Philip Illidge’s column on Comic Book Resources, both terms are ultimately defined as work that progresses diversity. To that effect, White British author Gaiman is one of its truest champions, crafting a fantastical novel that lets its characters fall under the default race of reader’s assumptions only to have that torn away, much to even [or especially] my chagrin, in later pages. Fantasy as a genre is not often populated by men and women of colour, at least in Western fiction, and to have this novel exist, as well as be supported by such an unshakable talent, is a wonderful thing.
novel that doesn’t, and then does, live up to the hype
The Catcher in the Rye in J. D. Salinger
Published in 1951
The only thing I knew about this [in]famous work of fiction prior to reading it is that the murderer of one of The Beatles was obsessed with it and that it has been a frequently banned book, so I was not at all expecting the tale of a teenager who just wanted to drink some drinks and go on some dates and figure out what adolescence is really about. On that same note, I also didn’t think I would be exposed to some of the most raw and honest writing about what it’s like to be a dumb, lost kid. I still don’t fully understand what all the hubbub was about, but I also see why so many dating profiles have it featured as their favourite book. Continue reading
Posted in Comedy, literature, race, religion, review, sex, writing, Youth
Tagged Anansi Boys, Angus Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, awards, best, books, Claire Messud, Cynthia Bond, Dave Eggers, Evan Yeong Literary Awards, fantasy, genre, Guy Gavriel Kay, J. D. Salinger, Larissa Lai, Louise Rennison, Miranda July, Neil Gaiman, Pink Moon, race, romance, Ruby, sad lady lit, Salt Fish Girl, Stef Ann Holm, The Catcher in the Rye, The First Bad Man, The Woman Upstairs, Tigana, virgin, Your Fathers Where Are They? And the Prophets Do They Live Forever?
My mom taught me how to read when I was 4-years-old, which WebMD, a reliable source if there ever was one, says is about two years younger than average. According to Iowa Tests [American standardized tests that I ended up taking at an American school] I was reading at a 12th Grade reading level when I was only ten. When I inevitably ended up majoring in both English and Writing at a Christian liberal arts college I was, to put it directly, horrifyingly average.
I write all of that not to share that I was some sort of prodigy [I wasn’t], but that I was good at reading because I loved it. The written word continues to be my favourite artistic medium, and my appreciation for the literary has not faded. Today I start what I hope to be an annual tradition, a review of what was read in the past year to acknowledge the standouts [for better and for worse]. These are the 2014 Evan Yeong Literary Awards.
In 2014 I resolved to read 52 books, and while I only ended up stopping just four short of my goal, I do believe it was an overall success. You can check out a full list [with the exact dates of when I read each one] at this link. Continue reading
Posted in comics, family, feminism, history, lgbt, literature, race, review, writing
Tagged A Natural History of Four Meals, Alice Sebold, Aravind Adiga, awards, best, books, Boy Snow Bird, Canadian, David Wong, Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome, Evan Yeong Literary Awards, female, film adaptation, genre, Helen Oyeyemi, horror, Jason Pargin, Joey Comeau, John Dies at the End, literary awards, literature, Lost Boy Lost Girl, male, Michael Chabon, Michael Pollan, Michael Rowe, non-white, Paprika, Peter Straub, Queer Fear, race, short stories, The Amazing Aventures of Kavalier & Clay, The Lovely Bones, The Ominore's Dilemma, The Summer Is Ended and We Are Not Yet Saved, The White Tiger, Violence, white, worst, Yasutaka Tsuitsui