My first ‘Oliver Twist’ Christmas

Along with countless others who fell victim to the spate of natural calamities that befell our country in the last few months, I have my own reason for finding the Christmas season less brighter this year. My mother passed away in 1996; and in October of this year, we lost our father. So this will be my first Oliver Twist Christmas season — orphaned, and missing the glow that came when we’d spend time over the season with my father present for specific occasions. One such occasion would be Christmas Day lunch, when we’d gather round, and my three boys and their first cousins would play the annual game of ‘Who of us gets the weirdest Lolo gift?’ That’s a unique Cu-Unjieng family tradition that began after my mom departed, and it would be very extraordinary mail catalogs and unconventional bazaar pick-ups that would make up the gifts my dad would shop for as early as July, and wrap and put under the Christmas tree by mid-November. So strange that our in-joke would be that he wouldn’t attend bazaars, but “bizarres!”

Think I’m exaggerating? Besides the classic T-shirt he gave my eldest nephew of panels of Aliens in various sexual positions emblazoned with the slogan “The Aliens Are Coming,” my eldest, Quintin, fondly remembers that Junior Science Kit he got, complete with microscope, test tubes, etc. that was clearly marked “For children eight years old” — only problem was Quintin received said gift when he was 17! Matteo laughed recalling the battery-operated Santa he once got, that bent over and pooped candy. And there was the miner’s flashlight on a headband that he received three Christmases in a row! Guess there was some clearance sale, or some toy mine had shut down? And Luca, my youngest son will never forget unwrapping his gift one Christmas and finding a bejeweled set of brass knuckles that had a sticker saying “not for combat.” Another nephew got this mechanical dog on a stand with a pole, and when you’d turn the toy “on,” the dog would hump the pole. Tears of laughter would cascade whenever these gifts would be unearthed and we would spend minutes trying to fathom where my dad would source these gifts, and via what logic he came to select them, and designate them to a particular grandchild. Of course, we were none the wiser after all the pondering, and the grandchildren would just resign themselves to the fact that there were no gifts quite like Lolo’s.

Besides Oliver, the annals of literature are filled with orphans such as Harry Potter, Tarzan and David Copperfield. While my ripe-old, middle-age status puts me in quite a different situation from the aforementioned orphans, the sense of loss remains a cloud over how I’ll view the Yuletide season this year. And while once a source of humor, jest and light ridicule, the crazy gifts my father would give to his grandchildren will now be something they can only reminisce about, and remember fondly… with a twinge of regret and loss. Me, I’m happy that precisely because they were so out of this world and singular, there’s something he’ll be uniquely remembered for.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!

From the land of high marks

The three novels today come from writers who have either made stars of themselves within the literary heavens, or come to us with star quality written all over their work. Tom Wolfe and Libba Moore have legions of followers, while Robin Sloan is one to watch out for.

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan (available at National Book Store) Sloan’s debut novel is that rare bird of a novel, as it seamlessly brings together the love of books and the printed page, with our era of the new technology and the digital age. Our protagonist, Clay, works in Mr. Penumbra’s bookstore, and he slowly realizes that there is mystery lurking behind the shelves of the store. Servicing a secret society of book lovers who regularly pick out books from the “Way Back” list and shelves, these “readers” are on the search for the secret to eternal life. But rather than the answer, it’s the hunt, and the getting there, that makes this first novel such a charmer. Hip, savvy, yet respectful of libraries and books, this also works as a New Age thriller.

Back to Blood by Tom Wolfe (available at National Book Store) To most avid readers, Tom Wolfe will be best known for his The Bonfire of the Vanities, a book that vividly gave us an unerring snapshot of New York City at a particular juncture of space and time. Raring to show that the Wolfe magic still thrives, he turns his sights on present day Miami, that eternal playground of the rich and richer. While it is a melting pot of Afro-Americans, WASPs and Cubans, Wolfe characterizes the community as one that isn’t ready to merge, but rather needs welding, so that each ethnic group sticks to one spot, and thereby peace is maintained. A colorful cast of characters awaits us — a Cuban mayor, an Afro-American police chief, Russian oligarchs and porn addicts. Sprawling, but enjoyable.

The Diviners by Libba Moore (available at National Book Store) Set in Manhattan, during the Jazz Age (1926), this novel dares to bring the supernatural, paranormal and occult into the main plot, and turns the novel inventively into something akin to The Great Gatsby meets the X-Men. Our main heroine, Evie, comes to work with her Uncle Will in the Museum of the Heebie Jeebies. There, she encounters a cult leader who reincarnates himself to fulfill a dire prophecy. Bray has previously written novels about the world of beauty queens, and about going bovine via mad cow disease. The diversity of her subject matter makes for one talented writer, and this is definitely a page-turner despite its hefty size. Entertaining, while it brings a bygone era back to life.