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Arts
Friday, February 15, 2019 — 5

NEW MEDIA REVIEW

SQUARE ENIX
After working with John Decker 
for a semester, I began to realize he 
likes to read weird stuff (according to 
my roommate, he also likes to write it! 
Ooh la la). He has sung the praises of 
Anna Burns’s “Milkman” three times 
in print (and counting), wrote a full-
on piece in support of uncomfortable 
fiction and was 300 percent into 
Kristen Roupenian’s latest collection 
of squirm-worthy horror stories.
He is also on Goodreads, and 
I happened to notice that he had 
marked Olivia Laing’s “Crudo,” 
an 
aggressively 
contemporary 
experimental novel with a dried, 
crushed fly on the cover, as “want 
to read.” This was convenient for 
me, because I had been looking for a 
reason to buy the book (it’s hardcover, 
a greater investment than I usually 
squander my impulses on). A couple 
texts and transactions later, we both 
had books in our hands and updated 
statuses on our Goodreads.
As a contemporary novel, “Crudo” 
does that risky thing where it pulls 
present-day behavior into the revered 
realm of published literature. The book 
moves at the rapid speed and with 
the passive attitude of technology, so 
we decided to write our review in a 
compatible medium: email. It worked 
pretty well for “Paradise Rot,” another 
stylish and slim work of fiction 
marketed to millennials. The form 
felt right for Laing’s tweet-infested, 
Trump-obsessed prose, too.
For what it’s worth, I gave “Crudo” 
three stars and John gave it four. 
Watch us duke it out below.
— Verity

***

Verity,

I’ve just finished reading “Crudo” 
and I think there is something to 
be said about a reader’s evolving 
proximity to a book. As in, not just 
how someone quantifiably judges a 
book (for its writing style, its lovely 
intrigue), but how they interact with 
it.
I’ll say that “Crudo” began as 
something distant for me. I worked 
through the first quarter of the 
book with a slight attraction around 
Kathy’s story. But the brevity of the 
images that Laing had written meant 
that when I stopped reading, any of 
the emotional velocity I’d felt while 
reading was gone. It was like I had to 
start over with emotive involvement 
when I picked up the book again. 
I’m thinking, then, that the depth of 
the book was really meant to spark 

something just in the very act of 
reading; that is, to be struck while 
in the process of encountering the 
images Laing flashes, but not to be 
affected by them afterwards. I’m not 
sure if you felt the same, of course.
I will say, this belligerent line will 
sit with me for a while after finishing 
the book, though: “The hammer, 
smashing the crab’s back. She 
wanted to be cracked open, that was 
the thing, only on her own terms and 
within preordained limits. There 
were rules, she changed them.”
At this crab-smashing point in 
the book, I’ll say, my interaction 
with “Crudo” changed. What I 
said before still stands, but I found 
that the images started throwing 
punches a little more violently (right 
into my gut, sometimes, because 
I think I related a bit too much to 
some of Kathy’s sentiments). But 
maybe it was all just me getting 
used to the structure of the book — 

image after image with dialogue 
claustrophobically 
in 
between. 
Somewhat hoping that your feelings 
on the almost-experimental aspect 
of the book’s structure are similar.
Still absorbing.
John
P.S. Wondering what you think 
of the development of the Laing’s 
characters. Especially “husband” 
and Kathy.

***

John Decker!

You put words to “Crudo”’s 
peculiarity 
so 
effortlessly. 
“A 
reader’s evolving proximity to a 
book … ” yeah, I’d say. “Crudo” is 
low-key slippery, one of those books 
that looks digestibly edgy but ends 
up eluding you just a little more 
than you wanted it to. Flirting with 
disaster. I thought it was going to 
be a talkative high and it was more 
like a funky microdose. Which isn’t 
bad, it just wasn’t as easy as I had 
anticipated. In fact, I’d be a hypocrite 
if I said that wasn’t a good thing for a 
book to do.
But yes, I kept changing my mind 
about my relationship with “Crudo” 
chapter to chapter, exactly the way 
you’re describing. It’s much easier 
to put down than pick up. And it 
gave me an identity crisis as a reader 
because, as much as I despise this 
term, “Crudo” is my brand — pissed 

off women trying to figure out how 
to emote in the now, complete with 
art and snark and a Chris Kraus 
endorsement (“Paradise Rot” is 
also endorsed by Kraus, a funny 
little throughline I just realized). I 
usually devour that shit, but I found 
myself making excuses to not pick 
up “Crudo.” When I did, it would 
take me 5-10 pages to stop resisting 
and warm up to each chapter (my 
east coast brain says “WASTED 
INTERPRETIVE TIME”). I wish 
I had forced myself to read it all in 
one go.
Omg, I just realized that this 
warming up/cooling down inertia 
cycle I’ve been describing is the 
narrative structure we’ve been 
discussing in Joyce class the past few 
weeks. “A Portrait of the Artist as a 
Young Man” is also separated into 
five chapters, COINCIDENTALLY 
ENOUGH, each of which seems 
to frustratingly end exactly where 
it had begun. Although Stephen 
Dedalus (angsty hetero woman-
fearing 
intellectual 
whiteboi 
protag) is doing stuff — going to 
school, fucking prostitutes, almost 
becoming 
a 
priest, 
comparing 
women to birds, mansplaining 
philosophy, writing bad poetry, 
you know — he never seems to 
evolve from it. There’s dramatic 
irony to this: through pattern, 
we learn that Stephen is forever 
doomed to stagnancy. The character 
development is paralyzed, and 
every chapter starts in the same 
introspective funk, unresponsive to 
the plot that continues to strike it. 
Visually, the book is like five identical 
circles in a row. Ask Ethan for more 
about this, it’s really interesting.
Anywho, I think “Crudo” is very 
much like five identical circles in a 
row. That’s the best answer I have 
for your question about character 
development. I just got massive deja 
vu while writing that sentence and I 
can’t place it. Weird.
I mentioned this briefly in person, 
but I’m very certain that much of the 
pause “Crudo” gives me is due to 
how personally attacked I felt while 
reading it. This sort of identification 
is always such a double-edged 
sword. There’s definite relief in 
seeing something kind of knotty 
about yourself in popular art, the 
solidarity of representation, yada 
yada. But it also gives you the unique 
distance to see exactly how difficult 
those qualities can be, like the 
age-old fantasy of getting to watch 
yourself go through a day from afar 
or as an onlooker (it also makes you 
feel less special, like is my internal 
struggle that basic? Sad).

Dialogue, digitized: A look 
at ‘Crudo,’ back and forth

BOOKS DIALOGUE

VERITY STURM
Daily Book Review Editor

Imagine battling the forces of 
darkness in Andy’s room from 
“Toy Story” while being aided 
by Donald Duck and Goofy and 
smacking foes with a giant key 
— you don’t know what you’re 
doing, you don’t know how you 
got there, and like in all Disney 
movies, it doesn’t matter. Who 
cares? You’re the good guys. 
The creatures you’re killing 
are 
the 
bad 
guys. 
There’s 
bright 
lights 
and jolly music. That’s 
“Kingdom Hearts III” 
in a nutshell. You can 
read the rest of this 
review, but the truth is 
that Kingdom Hearts 
is best played when not 
questioning it. Better 
yet, it’s best played by 
not thinking, putting 
away all semblances of 
logic and letting your 
monkey 
instinct 
for 
stimulation take over, 
seriously. 
If you are new to the 
Kingdom Hearts series, 
and if you expect to get a 
story from your games, 
then “Kingdom Hearts 
III” will be a slog for you. That’s 
because “Kingdom Hearts III” 
(as well as the rest of the series) 
has one of the most convoluted 
plots in gaming history. As 
the concluding chapter to a 
17-year-old franchise, you are 
expected to know what feels 
like a million characters and 
all of their individual motives 
and relationships. Even worse, 
some of these characters share 
the same name or are alter-
egos of other characters. All 
you really need to know is that 
you play as “anime boy” Sora, 
whose defining feature is his 

disproportionate 
head-to-
foot size ratio. His mission is 
to travel throughout Disney’s 
most 
beloved 
corporate 
holdings, regain his powers 
and fight the big baddies.
Your 
entourage 
includes 
Donald Duck and Goofy, as 
well as any Disney character 
whose world you happen to 
be in at the time. The rest of 
the story has all the standard 
adventure tropes such as forces 
of darkness and light, super 
villains 
trying 
to 
unearth 

powerful ancient relics, and 
apprentices training to become 
grandmasters. In all honesty, 
none 
of 
it 
really 
matters 
because 
it’s 
impossible 
to 
follow anyways. Luckily for 
fans of classic Disney movies, 
Kingdom Hearts is a dream 
come 
digitally. 
Running 
alongside the likes of Woody 
from “Toy Story,” or Elsa from 
“Frozen,” is a joy. Their worlds 
are so accurate they look like 
the actual movie. However, I’d 
like to have had some of these 
characters join my entourage. 
Donald and Goofy are great 

comic relief, yet it would have 
been funny if I could have 
swapped one of them out for 
say, Captain Jack Sparrow or 
Hercules. 
Sora’s main weapon is the 
Key Blade. After successfully 
completing each world, Sora 
is awarded a new Key Blade 
specific to that Disney movie. 
In addition to more effectively 
smacking enemies, these new 
weapons have movie specific 
abilities that make combat 
feel more like whimsical fun 
rather than life or death 
violence. As Sora stacks 
ability after ability to 
his roster, the screen 
becomes a flurry of 
rainbow chaos, causing 
your brain to panic, 
but your eyes to smile. 
Even 
better 
is 
that 
Sora’s ultimate abilities 
include 
summoning 
famous 
rides 
from 
Disney 
theme 
parks. 
Destroying an entire 
mob of monsters by 
riding a glowing merry 
go round is what I’m 
talking about when I 
say it’s better to not 
question 
“Kingdom 
Hearts III.” Though the 
gameplay 
mechanics 
are amazing, my one complaint 
is the auto lock system. When 
locking 
onto 
enemies 
the 
camera’s attempt to keep Sora 
and your opponent in view 
feels choppy, which breaks 
the fluidity the action RPG 
experience.
Kingdom Hearts III is fun, 
yet it’s not rewarding to grind 
through the story unless you’re 
a long-time fan. The novelty of 
theme park ride weapons and 
visiting classic Disney locations 
is why you will come. Unless 
you didn’t have a childhood, it 
will be the reason why you stay.

‘Kingdom Hearts III’ and 
the most convoluted story

A few months ago, I asked 
my friend what she had been 
laughing at for the past 
half hour straight. Without 
explanation, she added me 
to the Facebook group and 
watched as I scrolled through 
dozens of memes. I marveled 
at the fact that I had friends 
from the U.S., Hong Kong 
and Australia in it.
For 
those 
of 
you 
who 
aren’t 
familiar 
with 
it, 
Subtle Asian Traits is a 
Facebook group that took 
the internet by storm. What 
started out as a joke for six 
Australian students erupted 
into a group with over one 
million members from all 
over the world who share 
memes about life as a first 
generation Asian immigrant.
In 
many 
ways, 
Subtle 
Asian Traits is a way for 
Asian people to unite in 
the complications they feel 
navigating 
school, 
work, 
dating and more. Your life 
can be wildly frustrating, 
inexplicably hilarious and 
tremendously confusing at 
the same time. And Subtle 

Asian Traits is here for it all.
A 
lot 
of 
people 
have 
mixed feelings about the 
group. On the one hand, it 
can 
consume 
your 
entire 
newsfeed and suck you into 
a vortex of endless memes 
and notifications. On the 
other hand, it’s a source 
of 
hilarious 
content 
that 
can make you smile on a 
depressing day or feel like 
you belong to a community.
But I think one of the 
most 
notable 
aspects 
of 
Subtle 
Asian 
Traits 
and 
its spinoffs (Subtle Curry 
Traits, Subtle Asian Pets, 
Subtle Asian Dating, the list 
goes on and on) is the diverse 
applications of its platform. 
It’s whatever you want it to 
be: A place to poll how many 
times people rinse their rice, 
a place to find a future date 
(or 
significant 
other?), 
a 
place to share your mutual 
love for boba, a place to ask 
for advice on coming out to 
your parents.
It’s 
even 
a 
place 
for 
celebrities 
like 
Hasan 
Minhaj, 
comedian 
and 
former senior correspondent 
for “The Daily Show,” to 
remind us that they struggle 
with similar issues. Minhaj’s 

ask me anything on Subtle 
Asian Traits generated the 
comment “feels like a huge 
distance 
between 
regular 
folks 
and 
celebrities 
has 
been abridged,” speaking to 
the group’s ability to bring 
people 
together 
through 
memes, videos and jokes.
And most of all, it’s a 
group for Asians to voice 
and reflect on the struggles 
of growing up with Asian 
parents and being a minority 
ethnicity 
in 
their 
home 
countries. From getting made 
fun of for mispronouncing a 
word to sharing how Asian 
parents express love for their 
children by cutting fruit for 
them, Subtle Asian Traits 
covers just about everything.
While 
many 
may 
feel 
isolated 
in 
their 
communities, this group is 
a reminder we’re not alone. 
Because 
there’s 
over 
a 
million people out there who 
can relate to us too.
Also, fun fact: For the 
longest time I thought that 
Subtle 
Curry 
Traits 
was 
about Steph Curry — not 
content for South Asians and 
Middle Easterners. Don’t ask 
why because I truly cannot 
explain what I was thinking.

The global phenomenon of 
Subtle Asian Traits today

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

ELI LUSTIG
Daily Arts Wrtier

NITYA GUPTA
Daily Arts Wrtier

This 
past 
week, 
I 
had 
the privilege of viewing all 
five 
2019 
Oscar-nominated 
animated 
short 
films. 
This 
year’s 
shorts 
are 
“Bao,” 
“Late 
Afternoon,” 
“Animal 
Behaviour,” “Weekends” and 
“One Small Step.” Overall, these 
shorts are great, and each one 
approaches its subject matter 
with considerable care.
It’s no surprise that “Bao,” 
this year’s Pixar entry, is by far 
the most clean-cut short of the 
bunch. In typical Pixar fashion, 
“Bao” appeals to the emotions 
of its audience, though this 
time using a uniquely absurd 
approach. The film’s premise is 
bizarre: A Chinese-Canadian 
woman copes with her son’s 
abandonment 
of 
her 
by 
personifying him in the form 
of a dumpling. It’s quite funny, 
and it’s meant to be. For much of 
the film, the sadness of the story 
is hidden behind its absurdist 
and 
colorful 
presentation, 
until the reality of the mother’s 
emotional devastation comes 
to a forefront. The amount 
of emotional depth conveyed 
within the film’s eight-minute 
runtime is astounding. Check 
out “Bao” if you’re looking to 
laugh and cry all at once.
Like “Bao,” the Irish short 
“Late Afternoon” is committed 

to making an emotional impact. 
Its 
2D, 
minimalist 
design 
couldn’t be more different from 
that of “Bao,” but both shorts 
are alike in the way they explore 
the process of coming to terms 
with the past in different but 
equally poignant ways. “Late 
Afternoon” tells the story of an 
elderly woman with memory 
loss reliving the most important 
events of her life. These bursts 
of recollection are inspired 
by mementos in her house 
that are being stored away. 
The film’s bare-boned plot is 
complemented by fluid, vivid 
imagery of the woman literally 
diving back into the recesses 
of her memory. Aside from its 
supposed “twist” ending, “Late 
Afternoon” is nearly flawless. 
The film, though small in scope, 
makes a major impact, and 
serves as inspiration to live life 
to the fullest while we can still 
remember the experience.
Canada’s “Animal Behaviour” 
is without a doubt the oddball 
of the group. While the other 
shorts deal with heavy subject 
matter, 
“Animal 
Behaviour” 
is comedic gold. Like “Bao,” 
its premise is absurd. In the 
short, a group therapy session, 
led by a pit bull and consisting 
of a leech, a praying mantis, a 
pig, a cat and an ape, turns into 
chaos when the ape lets his 
anger overpower him. While 
the animation is admittedly 
cartoonish and could even be 

called ugly, it’s in concordance 
with the film’s ridiculous and 
often childish sense of humor. 
Although “Animal Behaviour” 
is unquestionably the funniest 
short that’s nominated, it’s 
still willing to get deeper. 
The 
animals 
grapple 
with 
surprisingly human issues, from 
lack of success on dating apps to 
dealing with crippling grief. It’s 
hard not to see a part of yourself 
in at least one of these animals.
Of all the films nominated, 
“Weekends” may just be the 
most 
impressive. 
The 
film 
explores the experience of being 
a child of divorce by following 
the protagonist’s journey from 
one house to another, repeating 
the journey over and over again 
for what intentionally feels like 
an eternity. By deliberately 
distinguishing the atmospheres 
of 
each 
home 
environment 
through color, light and sound, 
“Weekends” 
highlights 
just 
how confusing and disorienting 
marital separation can be from 
a child’s perspective. Because 
the protagonist is placed in 
between two entirely different 
worlds, he doesn’t fully feel at 
home in either. The ending of 
the film suggests that he will 
embark on a journey to find his 
own sense of belonging, and it is 
beautiful.

A look at the Oscar Shorts

FILM EVENT REVIEW

ELISE GODFRYD
For the Daily

JOHN DECKER
Daily Arts Wrtier

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

‘Crudo’

Olivia Laing

W. W. Norton & 
Company

Jun. 28, 2018

‘Kingdom Hearts III’

Square Enix

PS4 and Xbox One

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

