“The miracle of the world, Mr. Vandaline, is that no one’s disguise is perfect. There is in every person, no matter how graceful, a seam, a thread curling out of them. It’s like a pimple that rouge cannot cover up, a patch of thinning hair. Often, it’s the almost unnoticed thing that’s a thread: a bit lip, a slight sigh. But when pulled by the right hands, it will unravel the person entire.” 

Giovanni Bernini is a student of humanity, fighting his way through life, taking on the personas of others and slowly moving further and further away from himself.  In Jacob Rubin’s debut novel, The Poser, he writes in a tumbling, hurried fashion; as if he couldn’t get his thoughts onto the paper quickly enough. Despite this, the narrative is compelling and moves at a nice, quick clip.

Bernini is convinced that he is the exception to his rule, that he  has no thread in his core, no string that can unravel him to show his true nature. It is this belief that moves the story and drives him to devour the personalities of other people. Giovanni does not just impersonate the voices of those around him, he studies and collects subtle movements, and knows how to read emotions that are buried far beneath the surface of those he observes.

The arrival of Lucy Starlight throws a serious wrench into Bernini’s gears, as he finds he cannot find the thread that runs through her. To him, “The world was a smooth case, Lucy a splinter jutting out of it.” Not being able to imitate another human spins Bernini off of his regular course and becomes the linchpin for this surprisingly clever novel.

In prose that brings to mind a world with big top circuses and travel by hot air balloon, Jacob Rubin has captivated me and pulled me into this strange, colorful narrative. What disguises do I daily use to hide the fragile cord of truth running through my person? If Giovanni Bernini were here to show me, I’m not sure that I would want to know the answer.

Written by Hannah 

One of my favorite parts of working at Lemuria is hand-selling books! Hand-selling is when you ask us to recommend a book, and we get the privilege of tailoring the reading experience just for you. I love it when a customer comes in and asks, “So what have you read lately and what do you think I should read?”  Well, let me tell you what my favorite books are to hand-sell:

Christopher Scotton’s The Secret Wisdom of the Earth

I already blogged about this book, but yet it is still number one on my favorite books to hand-sell right now. It is beautifully written; a coming of age tale, full of mystery and adventure, and portrays a moral that is deep and compelling.

M.O. Walsh’s My Sunshine Away

This book is amazing. The staff loves it. I loved it. M.O.’s (Neil to us) signing and reading was captivating and made me love the book even more. It is also a coming of age tale, but has an unreliable narrator who keeps you hooked into the story long after you have finished the book. The best way I can describe this novel is that it is Suburban Gothic with twists and turns that keep you turning pages long into the night.

David Joy’s Where All Light Tends To Go

This book is another southern tale that punches you in the gut. When I was able to talk to David about the ending (no spoilers), he said his intent was to leave the person feeling empty. Well, he succeeded. However, the book, as empty as it makes you feel by the end, is so good!

Douglas Ray’s The Queer South: LGBTQ Writers on the American South

Douglas Ray, a Jackson native, edited this project and Jackson’s own Eddie Outlaw has a short story in the compilation. It is full of essays, poetry, and short stories that share how LGBTQ persons feel about growing up or being queer in the south. It is great to read if you want to hear about the struggles, lives, and victories of queer southerners.

Amy-Jill Levine’s Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi

This academic work of art is a gem of a book. Dr. Levine takes the most beloved parables of Jesus and offers fresh, creative, and modern understandings of the often-misinterpreted stories. It is great for those who are Christian and it is great for those who aren’t, but want to understand more about the teachings of Christ. I love this book!

And at the end of the day, there are so many more books that we have here at Lemuria that are amazing. All of our booksellers have their favorite books to hand-sell! So, feel free to come into the store and ask us to put something into you hands. Hopefully you won’t be disappointed!

Written by Justin 

My opinion of this book changed about three times over the weeks after I read it. Usually, my internalization and musings of what I read last a few days, and then I move on to the next book. But after weeks, when I sipped coffee, when I buttoned my coat, when I went about my day, this one stayed in my mind. Had I missed something?

During the flurry of wrapping paper that was Christmas at the bookstore, this book flew off the shelves. I’ve heard rumor that one reason for this was publisher bottlenecking, and people want what they can’t have. But I was curious and read it anyway.

When I first read the book, it sucked me in. I had to look up words like herbarium, escutcheons, and gendarmes. The story goes back and forth between two main characters, a young blind girl growing up in Paris during World War II right before Nazi occupation, and a young German orphan who must join the Hitler Youth. The story is interesting because there is buildup behind the scenes of what is going to happen while the main story is occurring.

After reading, I became a bit disillusioned with the story. It was a flash in the pan, fad of a book, plenty of World War II novels have been written (because few people are easier to make villains in a book than Nazis), and the children in the book are a bit too innocent and sweet all the time. I don’t like it when children are treated as innocent props for a story instead of given personalities and weaknesses, like real children. I laughed as I called this book “World War II with maple syrup on top”.

So that had settled things. But as I mulled over the things I did like about the story, I remembered some of my favorite books. I love Ulysses by James Joyce and The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. One reason I love these books is because they both have an interesting plot, but focus on the everyday aspects of life. The characters may have purpose, but they also hang up their laundry, they let their thoughts wander, they still live. All the Light We Cannot See also does this, and apparently this book would have nagged at my mind until I discovered the link.

I don’t think everyone will have such a journey when they read this, but hey, who really knows what will happen when they read a book?

Written by Nicola 

For those that don’t know, I’m the new guy at Lemuria, and I like new things. Books, movies, food, whatever it is, I like trying new things. Not that there is anything wrong with “old” things. I actually like a lot of those, too. This isn’t a post arguing the virtue of the exciting and shiny versus the tried and true. It is, however, a post about how revisiting something old has helped me to see something new.

If I’m being honest, moving back to Jackson a few months ago was not my favorite idea. As much fun as I had here in college, I had planned to spend my 20’s avoiding roots and any obligations. I thought I’d travel and move around, chasing jobs and adventures, making new friends, and trying as many new things as I could before it was time to be responsible and “settle down.” Things have not gone according to that plan. As I packed up to leave a “new” place and head towards this “old” one, I was reintroduced to this strange little book: Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities. I don’t think it was coincidence that one of my new friends put it back into my hands just a short time before my move.

Invisible Cities is a book without much of a story, and without many characters; but what it lacks in narrative, it makes up for in imagery. Kublai Khan has summoned Marco Polo to tell of the many great cities he has encountered throughout the Khan’s ever-expanding empire. The majority of the book is divided into chapters, each being Polo’s description of a city he has visited. Conversations between Khan and Polo are spread between these chapters. Across the barriers of language, age, culture, and experience, the two begin to communicate, Polo describing what he has seen with objects collected in his travels.

With no real plotline, Calvino’s writing focuses on the cross section of expectation and imagination, the fine line between understanding and knowing. Kublai Khan expects to hear of the towns and people spread throughout his empire, instead Marco Polo teases the emperor’s imagination, as well as the reader’s. Some of the places he claims to have visited are beautiful, others terrifying. Some are built up like modern cities with skyscrapers; others are built to defy common sense. They are all unique and richly detailed.

Through their conversation, Khan has some understanding of the cities Polo describes, yet never having visited, he can never know them as Marco Polo does. The reader is faced with a similar dilemma. We read the words Polo uses to name and depict all the places he has been, but the cities remain invisible to us, only truly existing in the explorer’s mind.

SPOILER ALERT…Sorta.

Of course, these cities aren’t real in our world, or in Khan’s empire. Each location described by Polo is a poem written in an urban language, one without words and phrases, but sometimes of concrete and steel, sometimes of stone, water, pipes, and more. The Explorer’s descriptions turn an idea into a landscape, one that he uses to impress the Emperor. Eventually Kublai Khan catches on to Marco Polo’s scheme and it is revealed that he has never traveled the empire, nor does he have any knowledge of any great cities other than his own Venice. All that he has described, all the ideas and fantastic depictions are inspired by his hometown. With every look at the Venice he loves, Polo sees an entirely new city.

It’s this thought that stood out to me as I read Invisible Cities again. Picturing the metropolises of Polo’s imagination while I read, I became jealous of his perspective that made each look at his “old” city seem like something “new.” This time, I was not reading about someone’s explorations and discoveries, I was reading about someone rediscovering a place already known. This made me change my mind about a few things and, as I’ve seen over the last few months, opened my mind to the new city I found in Jackson. It isn’t the same one I left, not in my mind. As Polo describes one of his cities, he says “You leave Tamara without having discovered it.” It seems I left Jackson without having really discovered it and now that I’m back, I have another chance.

Written by Matt