I like pretentious things. I like difficult things. The higher the concept is, the more willing I am to try and appreciate what the author/artist/musician was going for. This past month was the most prolific reading month I've had in quite a while, and I read three books in particular that bore out my penchant for difficulty.

The Fifty-Year Sword by Mark Z. Danielewski

Danielewski made this book into an art project. The illustrations are hand-stitched (in the more expensive versions of the book at least) and the effort undertaken to make the experience of this book a visual one as well as a textual one was something that I thought worked very well. The story is short and perhaps not as engaging as it could be; at a party, five orphans are mesmerized by a mysterious storyteller and the box he brings as a prop to tell the story of the titular sword. The book is narrated by the five orphans years later, with different colored quotation marks denoting which of them is recounting the story at that time. The layering of stories and storytellers is something that Danielewski loves to do, but I think he' done it better elsewhere.

Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy

I put this book down after 100 pages and I wasn't sure I was going to pick it back up. The violence was unrelenting, unending, and awful. I didn't know that I wanted to suffer through another 250 pages of that. It sat there for two weeks or so before I started up again. When I started back up again, something clicked. It's the story of the kid who joins up with a gang in Mexico/Texas in the 1850s that cuts a bloody path through the West toward the ocean. But it's more about the kid who ends up having to respond to evil, to extermination (of people, of feelings, of knowledge, of everything). McCarthy writes this all in a way that is amazing. I've heard it described as biblical and also as though he's trying way too hard to make it sound like important literature. Both are accurate. Like I said, I like pretention, so I ate it up. I'm really glad I stuck with it, the judge is a great character pitted against the kid.

Satantango by Lazlo Krasznahorkai

Maelstrom is the word that comes to mind. The members of a small, dying, Hungarian village are caught in a rainstorm. Rumor gets around that a savior is coming. Every chapter started with a sense of disorientation, that slowly resolved to something resembling clarity once the point of view was revealed. Every sentence battered and threw me around before finishing half a page later. The rain never lets up in the story and the deluge of the writing matches that well. The structure of the book is really well done (the chapters in the first part are numbered 1,2,3,4,5,6: the second part is numbered 6,5,4,3,2,1 and there is a good reason for it). It's not an uplifting book by any means, but the first half left me in awe, and the second half didn't quite match that, but it was very good. I know there are a couple people here who like Roberto Bolaño, and I think this would fit that same category.

Three books with big aspirations, and I enjoyed all three, although for different reasons. I think that "Satantango" was my favorite that I read this month, it's difficulty ended up being the most rewarding. Share your thoughts on difficult literature or start a discussion of what you read this past month.