Everyone I know has read Kite Runner. It's an incidental thing, not a case of everyone saying "you must read this book" but rather, a more casual, "hey I just read this book the other day, have you heard of it?"
If you liked Kite Runner, I suspect you will like this book as well, the second book from the same author. I found that I liked and disliked in this book the same elements that I liked and disliked in Kite Runner.
I find the history included in the story to be compelling. The author has a way of educating his readers about a part of the world to which we are largely ignorant, and he does so while telling an engrossing story. Accidental education, you think you're just enjoying a story when in fact you're learning something.
The characters led such brutal and harsh lives. This, I know, is unfortunately a reflection of the reality of what women have endured in Afghanistan. That might be what makes the story so hard to digest, the awareness that this is happening in the world. This was not a third world country, this was a prosperous nation, and it all fell apart, and remains in pieces.
The novel spans several generations of women, and many phases of Afghanistan's history -- the Soviet occupation, the warlords, the Taliban, the U.S. bombing, and finally, the current time period, which unfortunately may be a return of the Taliban. By reading this book we understand how the people were affected and in this case the women in particular.
There were times when I didn't feel as if the female characters rang true. These were clearly female character created by a man. I was unnerved by the nine year old thinking she was in love. That was too young for a child to have feelings like that. She was describing the sort of feelings that usually don't happen until later teens. I had to go back and read the part because I was so startled when I saw the line that "she was almost ten years old." I never felt especially close to the characters. Their situations took on a soap opera like element with so many extreme situations, the deaths, the pregnancies, the betrayals, so many characters that were pure evil versus characters that were pure good. While I found the situation and the portrayals of war in the city to be devastating, I felt numb to individual characters.
The coincidences bothered me. They didn't seem as absurd in this book as they were in the other, but nonetheless they were there. When I mentioned this a friend pointed out "that's what happens in fiction." Maybe, in some fiction, not the type I usually read. If this didn't bother you in Kite Runner, it won't bother you in this book.
Despite my criticisms, I'm glad I read it because I am interested in the history of the Middle East. I believe that a lot of people will enjoy it, in the same way that they've enjoyed Kite Runner.
finished reading: August 13, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
I found the premise of this book intriguing. A young couple's wedding night, both virgins, contemplating the consummation of their marriage.
The setting is the 1950s, right before the sexual revolution. According to the book, they live in a time before it was fun to be single, it was necessary to be part of a couple in order to enjoy what the world had to offer.
Much of the book consists of the thoughts in their head. Reminding each other of how they met, how they fell in love, and the concern and frustration over what to expect, how to react, what to do in this next step of adulthood, the beginning of a marriage.
He's so eager and she's simply terrified. But they're both entirely too polite with each other. They haven't quite grasped the concept that they are going to be spending the rest of their lives together.
They've both had unusual upbringings, his mother was brain damaged and his father had to be both parents to his three young children and care taker to his wife. She had a cold, distant mother who certainly never took the time to talk to her daughter about something like sex. It is also hinted ever so slightly that she might have had an improper relationship with her father. But again, it could be the confusion of a child. (I've read Atonement by this same author, a book about lives ruined because of a child's confusion regarding sex.)
As I read this, I felt so much aching empathy for the female character. Because even in modern times, if a person doesn't know what to expect, if she's never been told, if she's having to gather second-hand information... It made me wonder how a man could write something so accurate with regard to a woman's feelings. I tend to not read books written by men, especially if they presume to understand women. But I continue to read work by McEwan because he does seem to understand his subject matter and he creates women that are real, and not the hysterical, over-emotive and/or cardboard characters created by most male writers. In this instance, I was especially impressed. A man who has such a strong understanding of the thoughts in a woman's head is quite rare.
It's a small, compact book. The action takes place in one night. Easy to read while laying out in the sun. Probably not considered a beach read, despite its title, but I did read it while sunning, all at once. Gave me a bit of a sunburn because I stayed outside a little too long. But I couldn't stop reading.
It's very sad. In the end, I found the story to be a cautionary tale about what happens when a person doesn't express his or her feelings. If these two people would have just told each other what was going on in their minds, then they probably would have had a good laugh, realizing they were on exactly the same page, and worked through their fears. They loved each other and that should count for something. But when pride stands in front of love, a person may retain their pride, but that might be all that is left.
It's a beautiful story, and as I've said in other reviews, I don't especially enjoy McEwan's books, but I think they are very well written. In this case, the writing was so powerful, I couldn't stop thinking about the book after I read it. I had to keep reminding myself that the characters were fictional and that it was silly to get so upset over what happened to them. When something sticks with you like that, that's the mark of excellent writing.
finished reading: August 1, 2007
The setting is the 1950s, right before the sexual revolution. According to the book, they live in a time before it was fun to be single, it was necessary to be part of a couple in order to enjoy what the world had to offer.
Much of the book consists of the thoughts in their head. Reminding each other of how they met, how they fell in love, and the concern and frustration over what to expect, how to react, what to do in this next step of adulthood, the beginning of a marriage.
He's so eager and she's simply terrified. But they're both entirely too polite with each other. They haven't quite grasped the concept that they are going to be spending the rest of their lives together.
They've both had unusual upbringings, his mother was brain damaged and his father had to be both parents to his three young children and care taker to his wife. She had a cold, distant mother who certainly never took the time to talk to her daughter about something like sex. It is also hinted ever so slightly that she might have had an improper relationship with her father. But again, it could be the confusion of a child. (I've read Atonement by this same author, a book about lives ruined because of a child's confusion regarding sex.)
As I read this, I felt so much aching empathy for the female character. Because even in modern times, if a person doesn't know what to expect, if she's never been told, if she's having to gather second-hand information... It made me wonder how a man could write something so accurate with regard to a woman's feelings. I tend to not read books written by men, especially if they presume to understand women. But I continue to read work by McEwan because he does seem to understand his subject matter and he creates women that are real, and not the hysterical, over-emotive and/or cardboard characters created by most male writers. In this instance, I was especially impressed. A man who has such a strong understanding of the thoughts in a woman's head is quite rare.
It's a small, compact book. The action takes place in one night. Easy to read while laying out in the sun. Probably not considered a beach read, despite its title, but I did read it while sunning, all at once. Gave me a bit of a sunburn because I stayed outside a little too long. But I couldn't stop reading.
It's very sad. In the end, I found the story to be a cautionary tale about what happens when a person doesn't express his or her feelings. If these two people would have just told each other what was going on in their minds, then they probably would have had a good laugh, realizing they were on exactly the same page, and worked through their fears. They loved each other and that should count for something. But when pride stands in front of love, a person may retain their pride, but that might be all that is left.
It's a beautiful story, and as I've said in other reviews, I don't especially enjoy McEwan's books, but I think they are very well written. In this case, the writing was so powerful, I couldn't stop thinking about the book after I read it. I had to keep reminding myself that the characters were fictional and that it was silly to get so upset over what happened to them. When something sticks with you like that, that's the mark of excellent writing.
finished reading: August 1, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows
I was in Italy when the book was released. I got my copy about a week after everyone else did because I selected the free shipping on amazon.com I got it on Friday, read about a hundred pages on Saturday, a hundred more on Sunday, on Monday, I got up around 4 or 5 am and started reading it, and I didn't get out of bed until I finished reading it.
I loved this book. I was disappointed with Book 6 because I didn't like what happened to my beloved Snape. My friends were worried that I wouldn't make it through this book.
I admit the first of it was slow going for me. I got a little tired of Harry, Ron and Hermoine in a tent in the woods. Once I got past that though, by the time I was about halfway through the story, I couldn't put it down.
I was pleased with the ending. Overwhelmingly relieved that I wasn't wrong in loving the "bad boy." At the very end, I had a tear in my eye at the mention of "the bravest man I ever knew."
Bravo to JK Rowling for creating this excellent series. Something most writers can only dream of doing -- producing seven well-written, interesting, exciting, beloved novels.
I look forward to re-reading these someday, during a lazy summer, maybe while retreating to a cottage in Britain, accompanied by a visit to Oxford. Someday.
finished reading: July 30, 2007
I loved this book. I was disappointed with Book 6 because I didn't like what happened to my beloved Snape. My friends were worried that I wouldn't make it through this book.
I admit the first of it was slow going for me. I got a little tired of Harry, Ron and Hermoine in a tent in the woods. Once I got past that though, by the time I was about halfway through the story, I couldn't put it down.
I was pleased with the ending. Overwhelmingly relieved that I wasn't wrong in loving the "bad boy." At the very end, I had a tear in my eye at the mention of "the bravest man I ever knew."
Bravo to JK Rowling for creating this excellent series. Something most writers can only dream of doing -- producing seven well-written, interesting, exciting, beloved novels.
I look forward to re-reading these someday, during a lazy summer, maybe while retreating to a cottage in Britain, accompanied by a visit to Oxford. Someday.
finished reading: July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Evening by Susan Minot
I decided to read Evening after seeing the previews for the movie. I’m so glad I read it before watching the movie because the movie was phenomenally disappointing, whereas the book was beautiful.
The book tells the story of Ann’s last days. Much of the story is Ann’s morphine induced rambling, one memory blurring into the next. “I will always, I will never.” The words of every argument, every promise, every broken heart. Once I was involved in the story, I found these passages to be the most poignant element of the story. At the end of one’s life, this is all these days become: fragments, simple phrases that merge into the next, one moment indistinguishable from another, with a few bright, crystalline exceptions.
For Ann, the exception was the weekend of her best friend’s wedding, an event more significant than the three weddings of her own that she would later have.
While the movie is simple and predictable, the book is raw and complicated. During Ann’s final days, she reflects on the idea that when she’s gone, all her memories will go with her. She tries to make some sense of her life, looking around at her many possessions and realizes that she isn’t the things she owned, that her children will not carry on her true essence. All the things that made her who she is exist inside of her and will soon be gone. She had three husbands and gave birth to five children. She endured abuse and loss, she had big houses and pretty things.
She arrives at the conclusion that if life has high and low points, then her highest point happened when she was 25, the weekend of her Lila's wedding. Everything after that was less. Ann got married and had children, over and over again, because it seemed like the thing to do. She submitted to men who would take care of her and adore her, but she always kept her heart to herself, never loving her husbands, never feeling close to her children. And during her last moments all she could think of was the man she believed she fell in love with during the weekend of her friend’s wedding.
But the reader is aware of things Ann doesn’t know, revealing that the love she felt for Harris was one sided. He had no intention of their relationship lasting beyond the weekend. He belonged to another. Ann was beautiful and vibrant, this is clear not only from Harris’ attraction but also the subsequent men who insisted on having her. Harris wanted to have sex with her. He wasn’t different from any other man. But he never planned to spend his life with her.
To Ann though, Harris represented a time in her life when she was happy and hopeful. A time when she was a young woman living in New York City and still believed that she would be a successful singer. I don’t think Ann honestly regarded him as her one true love but after a life of failed loves, she looked back on her time with him as holding potential that was never fulfilled, like so much of her life. She was happy in his arms and she never felt that kind of happiness again. The morning after her last night with Harris, her world fell apart because of a tragedy. Innocence lost. He was the last good thing before everything became real and horrible.
I enjoyed this book because it served as a reflection of a time in which women felt they had few options. They weren’t supposed to go out on their own. They were supposed to get married and have babies. Ann did what was expected of her, and she never lived the life she wanted to have.
And when the evening of her life fell upon her, she saw the brightest, happiest moments of her life. It's a story about regret and guilt and the agony of wondering what might have been.
The book tells the story of Ann’s last days. Much of the story is Ann’s morphine induced rambling, one memory blurring into the next. “I will always, I will never.” The words of every argument, every promise, every broken heart. Once I was involved in the story, I found these passages to be the most poignant element of the story. At the end of one’s life, this is all these days become: fragments, simple phrases that merge into the next, one moment indistinguishable from another, with a few bright, crystalline exceptions.
For Ann, the exception was the weekend of her best friend’s wedding, an event more significant than the three weddings of her own that she would later have.
While the movie is simple and predictable, the book is raw and complicated. During Ann’s final days, she reflects on the idea that when she’s gone, all her memories will go with her. She tries to make some sense of her life, looking around at her many possessions and realizes that she isn’t the things she owned, that her children will not carry on her true essence. All the things that made her who she is exist inside of her and will soon be gone. She had three husbands and gave birth to five children. She endured abuse and loss, she had big houses and pretty things.
She arrives at the conclusion that if life has high and low points, then her highest point happened when she was 25, the weekend of her Lila's wedding. Everything after that was less. Ann got married and had children, over and over again, because it seemed like the thing to do. She submitted to men who would take care of her and adore her, but she always kept her heart to herself, never loving her husbands, never feeling close to her children. And during her last moments all she could think of was the man she believed she fell in love with during the weekend of her friend’s wedding.
But the reader is aware of things Ann doesn’t know, revealing that the love she felt for Harris was one sided. He had no intention of their relationship lasting beyond the weekend. He belonged to another. Ann was beautiful and vibrant, this is clear not only from Harris’ attraction but also the subsequent men who insisted on having her. Harris wanted to have sex with her. He wasn’t different from any other man. But he never planned to spend his life with her.
To Ann though, Harris represented a time in her life when she was happy and hopeful. A time when she was a young woman living in New York City and still believed that she would be a successful singer. I don’t think Ann honestly regarded him as her one true love but after a life of failed loves, she looked back on her time with him as holding potential that was never fulfilled, like so much of her life. She was happy in his arms and she never felt that kind of happiness again. The morning after her last night with Harris, her world fell apart because of a tragedy. Innocence lost. He was the last good thing before everything became real and horrible.
I enjoyed this book because it served as a reflection of a time in which women felt they had few options. They weren’t supposed to go out on their own. They were supposed to get married and have babies. Ann did what was expected of her, and she never lived the life she wanted to have.
And when the evening of her life fell upon her, she saw the brightest, happiest moments of her life. It's a story about regret and guilt and the agony of wondering what might have been.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Atonement by Ian McEwan (audio)
This was our most recent book club selection, though it seems that our book club will never meet to discuss this book.
Every attempt to read this left me uninterested. I decided to pick up the audio version of the book in an act of desperation. I spend at least an hour and half on the road every day, so I figured I could get it listened to in a week or so.
Point being, I listened to this. I didn't actually sit down and read it. I don't know if that matters, but anyway…
Overall, I didn't enjoy the book that much. The heavy wording doesn't seem appropriate for the rather simple storyline. A young girl with an over active imagination accuses an innocent man of a horrible crime. And for some reason that is never quite explained, everyone believes her, despite the lack of evidence. The most likely explanation is that it was a class issue, the child was from a well off family, the man she accused was the servant's son. The life of the person accused is ruined. He serves time and is then forced into the army. This takes place during WWII, I believe.
The book describes his life and the horrors he witnesses while in the army. Also, the reader learns about the life of the woman who loved him. They had one brief encounter before he was sent away. Being that she's the sister of the accuser, she cuts off her family and creates a life of her own as a nurse. She lives a lonely life, waiting for her lover to be free. One highlight of the book is the description of their passion and devotion to each other that continues during their time apart. It's a romance created by letters and ideas and desires because they never had the chance to act on their feelings for each other.
In the end, it is revealed that Briony finally realized that she had done and the harm she caused. But by then it was too late. Evidently she becomes a successful writer. There is one absurd passage in the book though where she submits her story and it's rejected. However, her rejection letter is accompanied by a long glowing review of what a remarkable writer she is. The letter contains numerous questions about what she's written, suggesting that maybe she focus on the consequences of the behavior in the story – the story is, of course, the story of what she thought she saw. The reviewer seems to be the one that points out to Briony the error in her beliefs, emphasizing that this story is a tale told by a confused child, not a recollection of an actual event.
The atonement though, as suggested by the title, never happens. It exists in wanting and hoping, but not in actuality. I felt defeated after listening to this. Since listening to this though, I've read another Ian McEwan book, which left me with a similar feeling. He's an excellent writer, but the stories are a bit rough to handle.
Every attempt to read this left me uninterested. I decided to pick up the audio version of the book in an act of desperation. I spend at least an hour and half on the road every day, so I figured I could get it listened to in a week or so.
Point being, I listened to this. I didn't actually sit down and read it. I don't know if that matters, but anyway…
Overall, I didn't enjoy the book that much. The heavy wording doesn't seem appropriate for the rather simple storyline. A young girl with an over active imagination accuses an innocent man of a horrible crime. And for some reason that is never quite explained, everyone believes her, despite the lack of evidence. The most likely explanation is that it was a class issue, the child was from a well off family, the man she accused was the servant's son. The life of the person accused is ruined. He serves time and is then forced into the army. This takes place during WWII, I believe.
The book describes his life and the horrors he witnesses while in the army. Also, the reader learns about the life of the woman who loved him. They had one brief encounter before he was sent away. Being that she's the sister of the accuser, she cuts off her family and creates a life of her own as a nurse. She lives a lonely life, waiting for her lover to be free. One highlight of the book is the description of their passion and devotion to each other that continues during their time apart. It's a romance created by letters and ideas and desires because they never had the chance to act on their feelings for each other.
In the end, it is revealed that Briony finally realized that she had done and the harm she caused. But by then it was too late. Evidently she becomes a successful writer. There is one absurd passage in the book though where she submits her story and it's rejected. However, her rejection letter is accompanied by a long glowing review of what a remarkable writer she is. The letter contains numerous questions about what she's written, suggesting that maybe she focus on the consequences of the behavior in the story – the story is, of course, the story of what she thought she saw. The reviewer seems to be the one that points out to Briony the error in her beliefs, emphasizing that this story is a tale told by a confused child, not a recollection of an actual event.
The atonement though, as suggested by the title, never happens. It exists in wanting and hoping, but not in actuality. I felt defeated after listening to this. Since listening to this though, I've read another Ian McEwan book, which left me with a similar feeling. He's an excellent writer, but the stories are a bit rough to handle.
Good Omens
I finished reading this during a raging thunderstorm, while watching the Omen. It somehow seemed appropriate to read a hilarious story about the antiChrist while watching a rather stupid movie about the same subject.
After falling for the Sandman series, I'm trying to read the Neil Gaiman novels in order, so I started with this.
I thought it was funny. I enjoyed the bickering angel and demon. I loved the witch in the story. There were so many quotes about witches and angels that I wrote down from the book because I loved them. The bits about how "most books claim witches dance around naked, because most books about witches are written by men."
This is a very clever book. A very light hearted look at the powers of good and evil, the end of the world, and the influence of environment. The definitive take on nature versus nurture.
After falling for the Sandman series, I'm trying to read the Neil Gaiman novels in order, so I started with this.
I thought it was funny. I enjoyed the bickering angel and demon. I loved the witch in the story. There were so many quotes about witches and angels that I wrote down from the book because I loved them. The bits about how "most books claim witches dance around naked, because most books about witches are written by men."
This is a very clever book. A very light hearted look at the powers of good and evil, the end of the world, and the influence of environment. The definitive take on nature versus nurture.
Stardust by Neil Gaiman (audio)
I listened to this while driving to and from Austin. It made the drive, which is usually such a beat down, seem short.
I really like that the book is read by the author because no one understands the characters of a book better than the author.
This is considered a fairy tale for adults. A young man goes off in search of a fallen star in hopes of winning the hand of the woman he loves. But along the way he learns many things about life and love.
There are several different storylines. Tristan isn't the only person seeking the fallen star. In the end the different storylines all mingle together as the characters try to claim the star.
It's a nice story. I do recommend it, this audio version in particular.
I also highly recommend the movie version of this story that recently came out.
Finished listening: June 12, 2007
I really like that the book is read by the author because no one understands the characters of a book better than the author.
This is considered a fairy tale for adults. A young man goes off in search of a fallen star in hopes of winning the hand of the woman he loves. But along the way he learns many things about life and love.
There are several different storylines. Tristan isn't the only person seeking the fallen star. In the end the different storylines all mingle together as the characters try to claim the star.
It's a nice story. I do recommend it, this audio version in particular.
I also highly recommend the movie version of this story that recently came out.
Finished listening: June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses is one of my favorite books. I finished No Country for Old Men in one night because I could not stop reading it. Suffice it to say, I’m a fan of his writing.
Then Oprah selected this for her book club. It’s no secret that I’m a fan of Oprah, though not always of her show. (My husband cheated with my best friend – wtf? I mean, seriously.) Then I read an interview with Trent Reznor, I believe it was in Kerrang. They asked him how he was spending his downtime on the tour, being that he doesn’t drink and party anymore. He said he reads and the last book he read was The Road. (As if I don’t already adore Trent Reznor, do you have idea how much sexier he becomes simply by talking about books?) Either that same day or the next, The Road was given the Pulitzer Prize. Oprah, Trent, Pulitzer – this book had a lot of things working in its favor, along with the fact that I’m already a fan of McCarthy’s writing. I’d been on the waiting list for the book for a few weeks, probably since Oprah selected the book, but that afternoon, the day I found out it won the Pulitzer, I went and bought a copy.
I found it to be written in the same “I can’t put this down” manner. I wonder though if that’s partly because there aren’t any chapter breaks, never a real stopping point. The style is a sort of stream of conscious, flowing from one scene to the next. Of course, if I didn’t find the story interesting, I probably wouldn’t care if there were any official breaks.
By now, I guess most people know the basic premise of the story: a man and his son, walking along the road in a grey, ash covered world that has, for all intents and purposes, ended. They have a shopping cart and a few possessions. They are constantly seeking food and shelter in the remnants of the world.
The book is written in such a way that the reader is placed on the road with these two, experiencing their struggle as they walk towards uncertainty. Maybe that’s why I felt like I couldn’t stop reading this, I needed to keep going. Along the path, they encounter others who have been left behind, dying, starving, insane or marauding.
The father claims he has to keep moving for his son, he has to stay alive because as long as his son is alive, there must be a god.
There’s no explanation as to what happened in the world. I got the impression, from his descriptions of the first signs of trouble that a bomb hit. A catastrophe of some sort took place that destroyed the earth, blocked the sun and made even the oceans turn grey. Infrastructure collapsed and anarchy ensued. The survivors were left to fend for themselves.
The story is chilling, because I think of the incompetence of our government, their inability to mobilize in the event of disaster, the shambles of the current quagmire in the middle east and I realize that in case of disaster we would be very much on our own.
But the predominant thought that kept going through my head was “why would someone want to survive in these conditions?” I don’t have much of a survivalist instinct, at least not when it involves being only one of a handful of people left living in the world.
For example, I’ve never understood people who stock up on gas masks and tape for their windows in preparation for a biological disaster. If the whole world is going to fall apart, I would like to go with it. I have no desire to live in a world that’s been destroyed. Why would you want to be alive inside your house while everything around you went up in flames. Eventually you would have to leave the confines of your home and deal with the horror. I suspect I have different point of view because I don’t have a family. But I can’t imagine wanting my child to have that sort of life either. Why work so hard to keep the child alive when there is nothing left?
While I assume the intent is that this is a story of hope and love, I could never get past the idea that their struggle was one of profound false hope.
Still, it’s very well written. However, there are some truly gruesome scenes in this story. I supposed that is to be expected because, well, it is sort of a story about the end of the world. I was worried because I read most of this late at night while staying at my sister’s house and was concerned that it would give me nightmares. No nightmares, at least none that stayed with me. It does make you think though. A lot of, “what would I do?” No water, no electricity, no fuel, no government. I wouldn’t start walking with no destination in mind. I guess I’d just sit at home and hope the end came quickly.
Then Oprah selected this for her book club. It’s no secret that I’m a fan of Oprah, though not always of her show. (My husband cheated with my best friend – wtf? I mean, seriously.) Then I read an interview with Trent Reznor, I believe it was in Kerrang. They asked him how he was spending his downtime on the tour, being that he doesn’t drink and party anymore. He said he reads and the last book he read was The Road. (As if I don’t already adore Trent Reznor, do you have idea how much sexier he becomes simply by talking about books?) Either that same day or the next, The Road was given the Pulitzer Prize. Oprah, Trent, Pulitzer – this book had a lot of things working in its favor, along with the fact that I’m already a fan of McCarthy’s writing. I’d been on the waiting list for the book for a few weeks, probably since Oprah selected the book, but that afternoon, the day I found out it won the Pulitzer, I went and bought a copy.
I found it to be written in the same “I can’t put this down” manner. I wonder though if that’s partly because there aren’t any chapter breaks, never a real stopping point. The style is a sort of stream of conscious, flowing from one scene to the next. Of course, if I didn’t find the story interesting, I probably wouldn’t care if there were any official breaks.
By now, I guess most people know the basic premise of the story: a man and his son, walking along the road in a grey, ash covered world that has, for all intents and purposes, ended. They have a shopping cart and a few possessions. They are constantly seeking food and shelter in the remnants of the world.
The book is written in such a way that the reader is placed on the road with these two, experiencing their struggle as they walk towards uncertainty. Maybe that’s why I felt like I couldn’t stop reading this, I needed to keep going. Along the path, they encounter others who have been left behind, dying, starving, insane or marauding.
The father claims he has to keep moving for his son, he has to stay alive because as long as his son is alive, there must be a god.
There’s no explanation as to what happened in the world. I got the impression, from his descriptions of the first signs of trouble that a bomb hit. A catastrophe of some sort took place that destroyed the earth, blocked the sun and made even the oceans turn grey. Infrastructure collapsed and anarchy ensued. The survivors were left to fend for themselves.
The story is chilling, because I think of the incompetence of our government, their inability to mobilize in the event of disaster, the shambles of the current quagmire in the middle east and I realize that in case of disaster we would be very much on our own.
But the predominant thought that kept going through my head was “why would someone want to survive in these conditions?” I don’t have much of a survivalist instinct, at least not when it involves being only one of a handful of people left living in the world.
For example, I’ve never understood people who stock up on gas masks and tape for their windows in preparation for a biological disaster. If the whole world is going to fall apart, I would like to go with it. I have no desire to live in a world that’s been destroyed. Why would you want to be alive inside your house while everything around you went up in flames. Eventually you would have to leave the confines of your home and deal with the horror. I suspect I have different point of view because I don’t have a family. But I can’t imagine wanting my child to have that sort of life either. Why work so hard to keep the child alive when there is nothing left?
While I assume the intent is that this is a story of hope and love, I could never get past the idea that their struggle was one of profound false hope.
Still, it’s very well written. However, there are some truly gruesome scenes in this story. I supposed that is to be expected because, well, it is sort of a story about the end of the world. I was worried because I read most of this late at night while staying at my sister’s house and was concerned that it would give me nightmares. No nightmares, at least none that stayed with me. It does make you think though. A lot of, “what would I do?” No water, no electricity, no fuel, no government. I wouldn’t start walking with no destination in mind. I guess I’d just sit at home and hope the end came quickly.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Devil's Feather by Minette Walters
Minette Walters is one of my favorite writers. I think she's written some of the best mysteries ever -- Ice House, Shape of Snakes, Dark Room. But I've not been crazy about her last few books -- Acid House and Fox Evil.
But Devil's Feather is a return to the style I liked so much in her older books. A suspenseful mystery, that integrates current social issues, interesting, likable, well-developed characters, in particular, strong, independent-minded female characters who don't suffer fools and have no trouble taking care of themselves, and a proper British setting.
In this particular story the main character is an international reporter who has covered war and conflict in several different locations. While attempting to investigate the similar murders of some women in different locations, she is abducted. After her release she goes into seclusion, claiming she's writing a story about what happened, when in fact she is trying to deal with the psychological damage inflicted on her while being captured, as well as remain hidden from the man who tortured her. He was a beast using war as a cover for his crime, knowing that the locals would be too occupied with the international conflict to notice the harm he was inflicting on women in the area. He attacked women he viewed as insignificant, and he didn't take kindly to a reporter catching on to his game.
I loved this book. Besides the well told story, this novel also emphasizes the need for women to be strong and willing to fight when necessary. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an engrossing suspense story that includes some ass-kicking women.
Finished reading: June 3, 2007
But Devil's Feather is a return to the style I liked so much in her older books. A suspenseful mystery, that integrates current social issues, interesting, likable, well-developed characters, in particular, strong, independent-minded female characters who don't suffer fools and have no trouble taking care of themselves, and a proper British setting.
In this particular story the main character is an international reporter who has covered war and conflict in several different locations. While attempting to investigate the similar murders of some women in different locations, she is abducted. After her release she goes into seclusion, claiming she's writing a story about what happened, when in fact she is trying to deal with the psychological damage inflicted on her while being captured, as well as remain hidden from the man who tortured her. He was a beast using war as a cover for his crime, knowing that the locals would be too occupied with the international conflict to notice the harm he was inflicting on women in the area. He attacked women he viewed as insignificant, and he didn't take kindly to a reporter catching on to his game.
I loved this book. Besides the well told story, this novel also emphasizes the need for women to be strong and willing to fight when necessary. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an engrossing suspense story that includes some ass-kicking women.
Finished reading: June 3, 2007
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Living History by Hillary Rodham Clinton (audio)
I honestly don't know if any woman in my life has had more influence on me than Hillary Rodham Clinton. I know that might sound extreme to some people, but for me, I spent the early years of my life desperately seeking a strong female role model. I was in high school during the first Clinton presidential campaign. I was disgusted by the fact that my friends now cared about nothing more than boys and makeup. I wanted something more and I needed to know that there were women in the world who did aspire to something more. And there was Hillary, and she was simply brilliant. I latched on to her and my feelings for her haven't faltered over the years. I'm not saying that she's perfect, it isn't a blind devotion, I'll acknowledge fault. She's human. But it is a sincere devotion. Because of her I realized there are strong, successful women, and because of her I became aware of the hatred most of this country feels for strong, successful women. Without a doubt, the main topic on my mind in the coming months will be her presidential campaign. Go, Hill, go!
But this is not a review of Hillary, but rather her book.
I bought it as soon as it came out, but then never got around to reading it. I decided to pick up the unabridged version at the library and listen to it during my daily commute for the last few weeks of my job.
I enjoyed the early parts, when she talks about her family and her college days. It's a side of her that isn't widely seen. You get a better understanding of her background and the basis of her beliefs. She's always been very involved and interested in the world. I also thoroughly enjoyed her description of meeting and falling in love with Bill Clinton. Again, this provides a solid foundation for why she made the choices she has made regarding their relationship. There's a part in the book when she describes how the people around her were shocked by her decision to marry him because she could do so much on her own, why would she choose to be this man's wife and move to Arkansas with him? She loved him, she loves him. She said when she met him they started a conversation and it has been going on ever since.
But once she gets to the part about Bill's political career and particularly his presidential career, I was bothered by the way the story becomes a strong defense for their every action. It made me sad, because I thought of how, in a way, her life, and in this case, her life story becomes nothing more than the act of defending her husband and often making excuses for his actions. (Here's the point where I should state that I am also a huge Bill Clinton fan, but still...) This is a woman who very much had to set aside her goals and aspirations for the dreams of her husband. During these portions of the story, I didn't feel like I was learning any new information. These were the same arguments that we heard when they were in office.
I did however like the stories about the work she did for international women's rights. I remember that time and how awesome it was that she was taking part in those trips and trying to make a difference.
Also, I began to get the impression that because she is still very, very much in the public eye, she can't provide a truly honest assessment of these events. She's still running for office. In many ways, parts of this book read as if they were excerpts from campaign literature.
It will be a long time before she's in a position to publish the honest story of what it was like to be the president's wife, especially a president such a Bill Clinton. She isn't in a position now to tell the full and accurate truth regarding her feelings and impressions. Maybe she'll be comfortable enough to share that story someday. And maybe when she does share that story, it will be accompanying her account of what it was like to be the first president of the United States.
But this is not a review of Hillary, but rather her book.
I bought it as soon as it came out, but then never got around to reading it. I decided to pick up the unabridged version at the library and listen to it during my daily commute for the last few weeks of my job.
I enjoyed the early parts, when she talks about her family and her college days. It's a side of her that isn't widely seen. You get a better understanding of her background and the basis of her beliefs. She's always been very involved and interested in the world. I also thoroughly enjoyed her description of meeting and falling in love with Bill Clinton. Again, this provides a solid foundation for why she made the choices she has made regarding their relationship. There's a part in the book when she describes how the people around her were shocked by her decision to marry him because she could do so much on her own, why would she choose to be this man's wife and move to Arkansas with him? She loved him, she loves him. She said when she met him they started a conversation and it has been going on ever since.
But once she gets to the part about Bill's political career and particularly his presidential career, I was bothered by the way the story becomes a strong defense for their every action. It made me sad, because I thought of how, in a way, her life, and in this case, her life story becomes nothing more than the act of defending her husband and often making excuses for his actions. (Here's the point where I should state that I am also a huge Bill Clinton fan, but still...) This is a woman who very much had to set aside her goals and aspirations for the dreams of her husband. During these portions of the story, I didn't feel like I was learning any new information. These were the same arguments that we heard when they were in office.
I did however like the stories about the work she did for international women's rights. I remember that time and how awesome it was that she was taking part in those trips and trying to make a difference.
Also, I began to get the impression that because she is still very, very much in the public eye, she can't provide a truly honest assessment of these events. She's still running for office. In many ways, parts of this book read as if they were excerpts from campaign literature.
It will be a long time before she's in a position to publish the honest story of what it was like to be the president's wife, especially a president such a Bill Clinton. She isn't in a position now to tell the full and accurate truth regarding her feelings and impressions. Maybe she'll be comfortable enough to share that story someday. And maybe when she does share that story, it will be accompanying her account of what it was like to be the first president of the United States.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Memory Keeper's Daughter (audio)
I listened to this book while driving back and forth to work during the last week or so of my job. Mid-May of this year.
This was an interesting story. A doctor delivers his twins one winter night, when the roads are too icy for his wife's doctor to get to them. The first child, a boy, is fine. The second child has Downs Syndrome. He hands the baby to his nurse along with an address and tells her to drop the child off at that location. When his wife regains consciousness he tells her the second baby died, thus setting into motion a life full of lies.
The nurse gets to the place, described as a "home for the feeble minded." She's horrified by what she sees and decides to run away and raise the child as her own.
The book describes the lives of the two children over the years and their family environments. One child is raised in the ideal suburban setting, the other by a struggling single mother. But one child is surrounded by cold, distant parents - a father consumed with his guilt and a mother who never got over the death of her child - the other child surrounded by love and support.
The story is in some ways a reflection of the times. But more troublesome than being unwilling to raise a child with a disability is the way the father had no regard for his wife and chose to not even tell her of the existence of their child.
This is a story about a man who had no respect for his daughter or his wife. In the beginning, as he describes his wife, it becomes apparent that he regards her as nothing more than a pretty doll, never imagining that she might have feelings and ideas. He alone makes the decision to send their child away. Later in their marriage, he becomes angry and insecure when his wife decides to get a job and then starts her own travel company. He takes up photography, the manner in which he goes about this hobby is indicitive of his obsession with perfection and appearances. He has no interest in anyone's actual feelings. He just wants everything to look right. ... the evil that men do.
I found the parts of the story about the nurse raising Phoebe to be most interesting, because she becomes involved in education reform in a fight to get her "daughter" the kind of attention she needed. But at the same time, I was bothered by the awareness that the woman's devotion to the child originated from the unrequited love she felt for the doctor. (It's been a while since I read the story, so I don't remember any names.) She couldn't have him, she couldn't be the mother of his children, so she lived in a sort of pretend world, raising his child. It made the woman seem very pathetic, but in the end, she redeemed herself for her "crush".
I recently read a story in this month's issue of Vanity Fair about Arthur Miller having no relationship with his son who had Downs Syndrome. But after reading this story, even Miller doesn't seem as evil, because the mother of the child was allowed to have a relationship with her son. But the mother wanted to keep the child with her. And this again, shows that father doesn't always know best. This will be a better world when women stop submitting to their husbands' orders, and when husbands start respecting their wives opinions and decisions.
This was an interesting story. A doctor delivers his twins one winter night, when the roads are too icy for his wife's doctor to get to them. The first child, a boy, is fine. The second child has Downs Syndrome. He hands the baby to his nurse along with an address and tells her to drop the child off at that location. When his wife regains consciousness he tells her the second baby died, thus setting into motion a life full of lies.
The nurse gets to the place, described as a "home for the feeble minded." She's horrified by what she sees and decides to run away and raise the child as her own.
The book describes the lives of the two children over the years and their family environments. One child is raised in the ideal suburban setting, the other by a struggling single mother. But one child is surrounded by cold, distant parents - a father consumed with his guilt and a mother who never got over the death of her child - the other child surrounded by love and support.
The story is in some ways a reflection of the times. But more troublesome than being unwilling to raise a child with a disability is the way the father had no regard for his wife and chose to not even tell her of the existence of their child.
This is a story about a man who had no respect for his daughter or his wife. In the beginning, as he describes his wife, it becomes apparent that he regards her as nothing more than a pretty doll, never imagining that she might have feelings and ideas. He alone makes the decision to send their child away. Later in their marriage, he becomes angry and insecure when his wife decides to get a job and then starts her own travel company. He takes up photography, the manner in which he goes about this hobby is indicitive of his obsession with perfection and appearances. He has no interest in anyone's actual feelings. He just wants everything to look right. ... the evil that men do.
I found the parts of the story about the nurse raising Phoebe to be most interesting, because she becomes involved in education reform in a fight to get her "daughter" the kind of attention she needed. But at the same time, I was bothered by the awareness that the woman's devotion to the child originated from the unrequited love she felt for the doctor. (It's been a while since I read the story, so I don't remember any names.) She couldn't have him, she couldn't be the mother of his children, so she lived in a sort of pretend world, raising his child. It made the woman seem very pathetic, but in the end, she redeemed herself for her "crush".
I recently read a story in this month's issue of Vanity Fair about Arthur Miller having no relationship with his son who had Downs Syndrome. But after reading this story, even Miller doesn't seem as evil, because the mother of the child was allowed to have a relationship with her son. But the mother wanted to keep the child with her. And this again, shows that father doesn't always know best. This will be a better world when women stop submitting to their husbands' orders, and when husbands start respecting their wives opinions and decisions.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Paint it Black by Janet Fitch
This book is thoroughly depressing, but so very well written that I quite willingly stepped into Fitch's carefully cultivated world of misery.
My primary goal in reading fiction is the element of escapism, and I judge the quality of writing by the ease into which I can slip into an existence other than my own. While iced in on a cold, rainy Saturday, I felt transported to LA, circa 1980, immersed in the decadent of punk rock / art scene.
Josie Tyrell came to LA with nothing but a desire to escape the tow yard in Bakersfield and her white trash family. While working as an art model, she met Michael, an art student and Harvard drop-out with famous, wealthy parents who wanted to live in the "true world". He wants to be part of Josie's world, one in which people take care of themselves, one in which he's not controlled by his parents and their history, he wants to be his own person for the first time in his life. Michael though, despite his desires, suffers from depression, more severe than he or Josie or his mother, Meredith, can understand.
One day he tells Josie he's going to his mother's house to paint and a few days later Josie receives a phone call informing her that he's been found dead in a hotel room, a gunshot to the head in an apparent suicide.
That's how the story begins. The rest of the novel is Josie's attempts to understand what happened, what went wrong, the signs she might have missed, a place to lay the blame. But instead she discovers more secrets and lies and confusion, and more questions than she will ever find answers.
Josie finds herself forming a bond with Michael's mother, the only other person who knew him. They cling to each other because no one else could possibly understand their shared pain. Josie is drawn into the world that destroyed Michael and is then faced with the decision to succumb or pull away.
Because of the superb writing, the characters in this story feel so real. Josie's memories of Michael's gradual slide into darkness, her fear and admiration of Meredith, and her struggle to continue a new life, one without the only person who ever made her feel real. Michael was the first person who didn't look at her as if she was trash, and yet, the more she learns about him, the more she begins to question what she believed was their love.
I suspect it could be the result of my own unstable mental state that I felt so connected to Josie. Not because I know anything about living in California or being an art model or having a boyfriend that committed suicide, but rather because I could relate to her determination to have something more, something better than her past told her she could have - even if that meant being left with nothing.
There's a scene near the end of the book when Josie's sitting in traffic wondering why she couldn't have been satisfied with something simple.
I read that passage and immediately felt like I knew the character and understood everything she wanted. The burning a person feels when they escape a small town and yearn for something more, something so out of their reach. The easy way out is right there in front of you, but if you take that path, you know you'll never have a shot at what you really want. So you opt for nothingness rather than simple mediocrity.
You hold onto that possibility as the world crumbles around you.
This is a story about people trying to pull away from that which controls them, without letting go, because they can't or they won't. This is about coming to terms with a past full of horror and degradation or allowing it to destroy you, actions and words that you can never take back, memories that you have to learn to live with, set them aside and move on. Most of all, this book is about trying desperately to find something beautiful in a world that is filled with ugliness. Josie didn't even know there was beauty in the world until she met Michael. But then Michael gave up his search, overwhelmed by the process, leaving Josie behind to continue looking on her own.
I really liked this book.
My primary goal in reading fiction is the element of escapism, and I judge the quality of writing by the ease into which I can slip into an existence other than my own. While iced in on a cold, rainy Saturday, I felt transported to LA, circa 1980, immersed in the decadent of punk rock / art scene.
Josie Tyrell came to LA with nothing but a desire to escape the tow yard in Bakersfield and her white trash family. While working as an art model, she met Michael, an art student and Harvard drop-out with famous, wealthy parents who wanted to live in the "true world". He wants to be part of Josie's world, one in which people take care of themselves, one in which he's not controlled by his parents and their history, he wants to be his own person for the first time in his life. Michael though, despite his desires, suffers from depression, more severe than he or Josie or his mother, Meredith, can understand.
One day he tells Josie he's going to his mother's house to paint and a few days later Josie receives a phone call informing her that he's been found dead in a hotel room, a gunshot to the head in an apparent suicide.
That's how the story begins. The rest of the novel is Josie's attempts to understand what happened, what went wrong, the signs she might have missed, a place to lay the blame. But instead she discovers more secrets and lies and confusion, and more questions than she will ever find answers.
Josie finds herself forming a bond with Michael's mother, the only other person who knew him. They cling to each other because no one else could possibly understand their shared pain. Josie is drawn into the world that destroyed Michael and is then faced with the decision to succumb or pull away.
Because of the superb writing, the characters in this story feel so real. Josie's memories of Michael's gradual slide into darkness, her fear and admiration of Meredith, and her struggle to continue a new life, one without the only person who ever made her feel real. Michael was the first person who didn't look at her as if she was trash, and yet, the more she learns about him, the more she begins to question what she believed was their love.
I suspect it could be the result of my own unstable mental state that I felt so connected to Josie. Not because I know anything about living in California or being an art model or having a boyfriend that committed suicide, but rather because I could relate to her determination to have something more, something better than her past told her she could have - even if that meant being left with nothing.
There's a scene near the end of the book when Josie's sitting in traffic wondering why she couldn't have been satisfied with something simple.
Pg. 345 - In an alternate universe, she would be going home from a day at the bank, the Auto Club, the State Farm office, thinking about her own kids and what she would make for dinner in her suburban kitchen in El Monte. Tuna casserole with potato chips crumbled on top. Her young husband picking them up at day care. What was so wrong about that? Something simple and basic, attainable. She wanted too much, that was her fault, not just Michael's love, but everything everything everything. Genius and wealth and culture, art and achievement...
I read that passage and immediately felt like I knew the character and understood everything she wanted. The burning a person feels when they escape a small town and yearn for something more, something so out of their reach. The easy way out is right there in front of you, but if you take that path, you know you'll never have a shot at what you really want. So you opt for nothingness rather than simple mediocrity.
Pg. 383: She liked the city, people close all around, crowds, the feel of something happening. Music, nightlife, being on the list, the girl everyone wanted to know – the possibility of more than dishes and diapers and the grocery store.
You hold onto that possibility as the world crumbles around you.
This is a story about people trying to pull away from that which controls them, without letting go, because they can't or they won't. This is about coming to terms with a past full of horror and degradation or allowing it to destroy you, actions and words that you can never take back, memories that you have to learn to live with, set them aside and move on. Most of all, this book is about trying desperately to find something beautiful in a world that is filled with ugliness. Josie didn't even know there was beauty in the world until she met Michael. But then Michael gave up his search, overwhelmed by the process, leaving Josie behind to continue looking on her own.
I really liked this book.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Twilight of the Superheroes by Deborah Eisenberg
Sometimes, after reading a book like this, I wonder if maybe I'm just not as intelligent as I think I am. Maybe I'm simply too dense to "get it". I picked up this book because it was on several "best of" lists at the end of last year, and I liked the title – Twilight of the Superheroes.
The book is a collection of several unrelated short stories. Overall, I didn't feel like the stories had much substance.
When I read something, I want to be entertained or informed, surprised or amused, I want to be taken to a new place, a different world, or I want a connection with my current state of existence. I felt none of that with the stories in this book.
The stories never revealed much about the characters, they touched on the ideas of family and relationships and the breakdown of such. They all felt if they contained the potential for something more, but never quite got there. If anything, after I read the stories I felt like, "why did I just bother reading that if I wasn't going to learn anything more about these people?"
If someone else has read this and loved it, feel free to let me know what I missed, because I was fully expecting to like this and am disappointed that I didn't.
The book is a collection of several unrelated short stories. Overall, I didn't feel like the stories had much substance.
When I read something, I want to be entertained or informed, surprised or amused, I want to be taken to a new place, a different world, or I want a connection with my current state of existence. I felt none of that with the stories in this book.
The stories never revealed much about the characters, they touched on the ideas of family and relationships and the breakdown of such. They all felt if they contained the potential for something more, but never quite got there. If anything, after I read the stories I felt like, "why did I just bother reading that if I wasn't going to learn anything more about these people?"
If someone else has read this and loved it, feel free to let me know what I missed, because I was fully expecting to like this and am disappointed that I didn't.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Finally read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I have to admit I'm disappointed.
I bought the book the week it came out last summer. I started reading it and had to stop shortly into the novel because I was disturbed by the direction the character of Snape was taking. I love Snape. I've got a thing for bad boys, not so much bad, but misunderstood. The dark, mysterious loner, the inept social skills and the brilliant mind. Plus, Alan Rickman portrays that characters in the movies and I think he's so sexy and even more so when decked out in the Trent Reznor circa early 90s look.
A few pages in, things were not looking good for Snape and I stopped reading. A common trait about women who love bad guys, we prefer to stay in denial when others are trying to point out his bad traits.
Now though, with the announcements being released about the last book – title was revealed a few weeks ago – I felt like it was time to finally get that book read. I couldn't avoid it forever and it would be stupid to have read the first five books and then just stop.
Over Thanksgiving I bought a paperback copy of the book because I had quite a bit of traveling planned for the next few weeks (ie lots of time spent sitting in airports) and didn't want to lug around the hardbound copy of the book.
I managed to get through the 600+ pages in a few long sittings. Never once though did I feel like the story grabbed me, propelling me through the pages unable to put it down. It did however provide a nice escape while spending time in airport waiting areas. However, when not stuck somewhere waiting, it was something of an effort to pick up the book.
With each book, I find I like the character of Harry even less. That doesn't at all lessen my interest in the story, but it does diminish my emotional attachment to the main character. When I read stories about school situations, I tend to compare it to my own school experience and try to figure out which students would be part of which clique. Harry, the "chosen one" and star athlete would be the kind of student I would have avoided. I guess you could say I would have been more of the Neville and Luna type of student.
Well, if you've read the book, factoring in my feelings for Snape, you know exactly why I was upset by the ending. I wasn't that bothered at all by the part of the book that was supposed to be upsetting because I was too angry about what happened to Snape.
I didn't particularly enjoy reading this book, but I am at least anxious to read the final book, in hopes of some sort of satisfactory resolution.
I bought the book the week it came out last summer. I started reading it and had to stop shortly into the novel because I was disturbed by the direction the character of Snape was taking. I love Snape. I've got a thing for bad boys, not so much bad, but misunderstood. The dark, mysterious loner, the inept social skills and the brilliant mind. Plus, Alan Rickman portrays that characters in the movies and I think he's so sexy and even more so when decked out in the Trent Reznor circa early 90s look.
A few pages in, things were not looking good for Snape and I stopped reading. A common trait about women who love bad guys, we prefer to stay in denial when others are trying to point out his bad traits.
Now though, with the announcements being released about the last book – title was revealed a few weeks ago – I felt like it was time to finally get that book read. I couldn't avoid it forever and it would be stupid to have read the first five books and then just stop.
Over Thanksgiving I bought a paperback copy of the book because I had quite a bit of traveling planned for the next few weeks (ie lots of time spent sitting in airports) and didn't want to lug around the hardbound copy of the book.
I managed to get through the 600+ pages in a few long sittings. Never once though did I feel like the story grabbed me, propelling me through the pages unable to put it down. It did however provide a nice escape while spending time in airport waiting areas. However, when not stuck somewhere waiting, it was something of an effort to pick up the book.
With each book, I find I like the character of Harry even less. That doesn't at all lessen my interest in the story, but it does diminish my emotional attachment to the main character. When I read stories about school situations, I tend to compare it to my own school experience and try to figure out which students would be part of which clique. Harry, the "chosen one" and star athlete would be the kind of student I would have avoided. I guess you could say I would have been more of the Neville and Luna type of student.
Well, if you've read the book, factoring in my feelings for Snape, you know exactly why I was upset by the ending. I wasn't that bothered at all by the part of the book that was supposed to be upsetting because I was too angry about what happened to Snape.
I didn't particularly enjoy reading this book, but I am at least anxious to read the final book, in hopes of some sort of satisfactory resolution.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
The Mercy of Thin Air by Ronlyn Domingue
The title is what drew me to this book. The cover featured the hazy image of the back of a young woman. The saying goes "don't judge a book by its cover" but in truth, a nice cover and an enticing title does quite a bit to make a book stand out among the many books on display at the bookstore.
In this case, the description of the story sounded as intriguing as the cover. Set in New Orleans, a woman, dead 70 years, exists in a realm of "in-between", seeks information about the man she once loved, while observing a newlywed couple struggle with the trials of the living.
I was hoping for something beautiful and tragic and dark. And it was, to some extent. But also, the story possessed a strong sense of practicality that I thought detracted a bit from the intensity it might have had otherwise. This wasn't quite the story of ghosts and lost lovers mired in voodoo that I'd hoped it would be. I liked this book, but I wanted to love this book.
There almost seemed to be too many storylines running through this book. We learn bits and pieces of different people's lives, past and present, enough to make me curious and interested, but not enough to make me care or connect to the people. It felt like maybe too much was attempted. I didn't feel like enough attention was paid to the ways in which the stories connected. The connection is somewhat surprising, but it felt rushed in the end. I felt like I didn't learn enough to fully understand what had happened or more so to really feel the effects of what happened. I had questions at the end -- and if anyone else has read this book or does read this book and would like to discuss, get in touch with me. Seriously.
I'd summarize this book as being about people who met the love of their lives -- their soul mate, the person who set them on fire, the one -- then lost that person. The story lies in how each person manages to move forward, knowing they will never feel love like that again, and in each instance settling for someone comfortable and safe. A practical love. The stories are presented in a way that assumes that this is what a person is supposed to do -- settle for someone you know you can never love as much as the person you lost. This idea bothered me immensely, because while I understand that this is the most logical choice, a person cannot build a life with a ghost, I also believe that in some situations a person would be better off alone with their memories than sharing their life with someone they don't passionately love. Why should Amy settle for Scott? Nothing about his character makes me think he was worthy of her love.
In life, we're forced to live in a logical and practical manner, but in my fiction, I want the characters to find a way to surpass those boundaries and refuse to settle.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld
A more appropriate title would have been "Tales of a Prep School Nothing."
If judging a book by its cover, I would immediately steer clear of this book because of the obnoxious amount of pink on the cover. With its simple cloth pink and pale green belt, the cover shouts "girl book," "superficial book," "book about pointless female blathering." Had I judged this book by its cover, I would have been correct in my assessment.
I only read this because someone in our book club selected this book. Oddly enough, the book was selected by the only male in our book club. He said he was interested in the idea of prep school.
I hated this book. I tend to prefer stories with a bit of depth and meaning, both qualities this book was clearly lacking.
I found this book to be offensive on two levels. As a writer, I was offended that something so badly written was published. As a woman, I was insulted and infuriated by the portrait it painted of young females. Books like this perpetrate the myth that young women care about nothing except their appearance and boys. Shocking as this may sound, there are some women who having bigger, more important interests and goals and place getting laid fairly low on the priority list. Had I not known, I would have assumed this book had been written by a man because you don't expect a man to know any better, but it wasn't. Despite the name Curtis, the author is not male.
The story spans the four years the narrator, Lee, attends prep school. She's on a scholarship and the impression is given that she's going to provide some insight into what it is like to be a poor white girl surrounded by wealthy students with entitlement issues. Instead, the book is mostly about how Lee keeps to herself, never gets involved with anything, never really talks to people, doesn't care about academics, obsessing about what people think about her and has a big crush on a guy named Cross. We hear a lot about how she's unhappy and doesn't fit in, but she never makes any attempt to change her situation. She doesn't seem to have any interests or hobbies, knows nothing about music or current events. She truly is a "nothing".
I have a strong understanding of the "outsider," the kid who doesn't fit in with the "popular" crowd. But usually that student has some creative abilities, she/he is into music or art, or they excel in academics. Lee does none of these things. Something that I found baffling was the fact that she was on scholarship, but had very bad grades. I would assume that to keep a four-year scholarship a student would be required to meet certain requirements, but that never seems to be an issue. Also, if she was on scholarship, shouldn't she have at some point displayed some sort of academic inclination? At least with grades she could have created some niche for herself. She could have been the "smart" girl.
But, as I mentioned, she does develop a crush on a guy her freshman year. For the next three years she has absolutely no contact with him. Then one night for no reason at all, he walks into her room and climbs into her bed. As further proof of her "nothing" status, she allows him into her bed, without question. He then proceeds to fuck her on a fairly regular basis. They have no relationship at all outside of the bed. Lee seems honored that she's being used in such a way. She has no qualms about the fact that Cross acts like he doesn't even know her on campus. You realize later that the sex is nothing more than him making the most of his senior year. "He's really into being a senior," advises Lee's roommate, Martha. Later in the book, it is suggested that he's making his way into the beds of many of the female students, compiling a list with his roommate. Lee exhibits absolutely no self-respect. Without hesitation she gets down on her knees on the concrete floor of an empty classroom and delivers a blowjob when asked.
This story might have been able to redeem itself if the author had provided some element of contrition or regret in her reflections. The story is told as a remembrance of her past, from the viewpoint of an adult. But she seems to have learned nothing from her experience. I felt like even as an adult, she remained the "nothing" that she was in school. If anything, she still provides desperate hints that maybe, just maybe Cross did like her. She confronts him at the end of her senior year, not because she finally realizes that she's been used, but rather because she's upset that he quit showing up in her room for sex. At this point, he has a real girlfriend, someone he talks to and hangs out with in public view. She tells him that he made her feel bad about herself and she walks off, and she seems elated, even looking back on that moment because he called her name as she walked away. Even as an adult, she seems unable to accept the fact that he thought nothing of her.
Aspects like that make this book seem uncomfortably autobiographical. She never acknowledges how pathetic and stupid she behaved. She never seems to realize that she was used, that she repeatedly allowed herself to be used and was considered nothing more than a joke to Cross and his friends. I don't understand how someone could tell a story like this, why someone would imagine a story like this and be so blind to the story she was actually telling, unless she was merely relaying events from her own past.
I never figured out the point of this story. What was the author trying to say? What was there to be gained from reading this? What was I supposed to take away from Lee's experiences? Nothing especially insightful happened. Evidently even Lee gained nothing from her prep school experience.
The story was boring anecdote after boring anecdote. She had a teacher from the Midwest; she cut hair; she taught someone to ride a bike; she nearly failed her math class. A lot of little stories that lacked cohesiveness. Maybe if Lee had been a more interesting or observant person these tales might have been enjoyable, but instead I kept thinking, "Why? Why? You, stupid, stupid girl." The first three years were unbearably boring. I didn't find it interesting until the sex during her senior year and that was mostly for the train wreck effect. So gruesome I couldn't look away. Fittingly, it seemed to be the only thing Lee was truly interested in as well.
The writing was inconsistent and the characters were never fully developed. Sometimes the descriptions were brief, but for some reason anytime the author described a bathroom event she felt the need to be crudely accurate. Sometimes Lee was awkward and self-conscious, but then amazingly clever and funny when finding herself seated at the lunch table with the popular kids. Every once in a while, there would be a line or two of brilliance, like this:
"It was like being drunk, how you so rarely feel drunk enough to do the thing you want to, you still feel pinned back by your own sense of the rational or the proper, but the next day, hung over, you realize just how drunk you were. You had a window of opportunity. If you had used it, you probably would have embarrassed yourself, but in not using it, you wasted something irretrievable."
But lines like that were rapidly negated by pages of nothing. She lost her underwear and someone found it. Then she wanted a flower from Cross but didn't get one and her roommate did, and she sent him one and oh woe is me...
I admit it, I'm bitter. Why does crap like this get published when I know that my friends and even I can write better than this? The rest of us are toiling away at our soul-killing corporate jobs while someone who strings together this mess gets paid to write. Life is not fair.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Left Bank by Kate Muir
I read a review praising this book and subsequently put my name on the list at the library. Well known Parisian couple – a philosopher and an actress – cope with the disappearance of their child. At least that's what I thought it was about. Oh, and the actress is from Texas. I usually love a good story about a Texas girl who gets her ass out of the country and does well for herself.
That was a very misleading review. The child's disappearance, though a catalyst to the main elements of the novel, isn't nearly as dramatic as one might imagine.
This is the story of a married couple, the husband very involved in being "French" (i.e. carrying on numerous affairs because he considered it to be his obligation as a French intellectual). He's trying desperately to be Sartre. WWJPSD he asks himself anytime he faces doubt. His wife, in his mind, and hers as well for a bit, is nothing more than a lovely trophy. But eventually his wife starts to see how false and shallow her marriage is by seeing how it affects her daughter and gradually she pulls away from her husband and starts to find herself ... and as I'm describing the book I'm realizing that it could have been a great story. But it gets so bogged down with the details. The endless descriptions of the husband's favorite cheese and the nanny's erect nipples under her thin blouse and wife's red shoes against the gravel. I just skimmed through the last of the book because I wanted to find out what happened. But I didn't care enough about the characters to ever really curl up with this book and dive in.
I wanted an escape to Paris, a glimpse into the life of the intelligent and the beautiful, but it read like any other bad marriage in which the husband thinks much more of himself and his desires than those of the people who he is supposed to care about. This could have been a story about a doctor and his socialite, model wife living here in Dallas. It could have taken place anywhere. Paris doesn't have a monopoly on self-absorbed men, women in denial or bad marriages. Don't waste your time with this book.
That was a very misleading review. The child's disappearance, though a catalyst to the main elements of the novel, isn't nearly as dramatic as one might imagine.
This is the story of a married couple, the husband very involved in being "French" (i.e. carrying on numerous affairs because he considered it to be his obligation as a French intellectual). He's trying desperately to be Sartre. WWJPSD he asks himself anytime he faces doubt. His wife, in his mind, and hers as well for a bit, is nothing more than a lovely trophy. But eventually his wife starts to see how false and shallow her marriage is by seeing how it affects her daughter and gradually she pulls away from her husband and starts to find herself ... and as I'm describing the book I'm realizing that it could have been a great story. But it gets so bogged down with the details. The endless descriptions of the husband's favorite cheese and the nanny's erect nipples under her thin blouse and wife's red shoes against the gravel. I just skimmed through the last of the book because I wanted to find out what happened. But I didn't care enough about the characters to ever really curl up with this book and dive in.
I wanted an escape to Paris, a glimpse into the life of the intelligent and the beautiful, but it read like any other bad marriage in which the husband thinks much more of himself and his desires than those of the people who he is supposed to care about. This could have been a story about a doctor and his socialite, model wife living here in Dallas. It could have taken place anywhere. Paris doesn't have a monopoly on self-absorbed men, women in denial or bad marriages. Don't waste your time with this book.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
Read this book as our second book club selection. I loved this book. It's about a man who spent the first fourteen or so years of his life thinking he was female. But it's about so much more than that.
This book spans three generations of a Greek family that moves to Detroit from Turkey. Within the 500 or so pages of this novel, topics such as culture (the contrasts between the Greek culture and the American culture) and family and gender assumptions (what really makes a person male or female? Biology or psychology, nature versus nurture) and history such as the wars in Greece and Turkey as well as the history of the city of Detroit are all covered extensively. I found this book to be so interesting.
Our book club could have talked about this book forever. That's why I don't feel especially compelled to write much in this review.
I highly recommend this book though.
This book spans three generations of a Greek family that moves to Detroit from Turkey. Within the 500 or so pages of this novel, topics such as culture (the contrasts between the Greek culture and the American culture) and family and gender assumptions (what really makes a person male or female? Biology or psychology, nature versus nurture) and history such as the wars in Greece and Turkey as well as the history of the city of Detroit are all covered extensively. I found this book to be so interesting.
Our book club could have talked about this book forever. That's why I don't feel especially compelled to write much in this review.
I highly recommend this book though.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
Two people at work read this book recently and eagerly proclaimed their love for it. It's been on my very long "reading" list for over a year, so I decided to check it out when I saw it on the shelf at the library the other day.
Initially I was put off by the premise of the book. I'm not a big fan of stories about children. Particularly stories about extremely clever children who think like adults. But I got over that fairly quickly and began to like the book quite a bit. I found the character of Oskar, with all his rambling thoughts and fears and inventions to be endearing. But as much I adored the passages about Oskar, I abhorred the storyline about the grandfather. It was so absurd, and stupid. I realize it was supposed to be quirky or surreal or something like that -- he can't speak because he's too sad, he gradually lost his words and now he carries around daybooks and writes all the time, he remembers a house made of walls of books, to look outside you removed books to create windows, cute, right? Groan. I felt like it clashed horribly with the story of Oskar.
Oskar's dad died in the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. After his death, Oskar found a key and then decided to try to find the lock that the key would open in hopes of learning more about his father. A significant part of the story is about Oskar's quest as he travels through New York and the five boroughs seeking the lock for this key.
Oskar's observations and contemplations provide some truly beautiful passages of loss and regret and fear. I think anyone, any age can relate to his loss of innocence and his desires.
And the passage that captivated me, the part I had to keep re-reading:
It reminded me of how I feel every time I hear about some tragedy in the world and wish that I could have my friends all right next to me rather than wonder where they are at that moment. Suffice it to say, I loved parts of this book.
But then you have to go back to the daybook entries of his grandfather who abandoneded his grandmother before his father was even born. He's just so very sad and he left because he was scared to love anyone and didn't want to love the baby. But 40 years later, after learning the son he never wanted to know is dead, he returns, and he's so very sorry. Talk about too little way too late. I despised this character so much, I couldn't get past my distain for him. I suspect that's the sign of good writing if someone can conjure up such strong feelings. But I felt like that wasn't the intended response, instead I was supposed to feel sorry for him, because you know, he's just so sad and he'd lost so much. As I'm reading this though I'm thinking of all the people around him who have lost just as much, who are going on with their lives as best they can and I think he is a pathetic worthless man who doesn't deserve the forgiveness of the family he abandoned. He walked out on a pregnant wife because he never quite got over the death of a pregnant girlfriend and he felt completely justified in his actions, never bothering to consider what his actions would do to his wife -- his wife, who had lost her entire family in the same fire that took the life of his girlfriend. I have no sympathy for people so absorbed in their own pain that they treat those who depend on them so horribly. He returns wanting forgiveness, wanting to know all about the son he didn't want, wanting to become a part of his grandson's life.
Had that storyline been eliminated from this story, I would have liked this book much more than I did. To me it felt like two stories, and when the two storylines do interact, it doesn't seem to play a significant role in the story, point being, had it been left out, it would not have detracted from the main story.
Another thing that bothered me was the formatting of the book. I was annoyed by the blank pages or pages with one sentence. I was distracted by the pages covered with red ink and I didn't think the photos contributed much to the story.
Overall though, I'm glad I read the book.
Initially I was put off by the premise of the book. I'm not a big fan of stories about children. Particularly stories about extremely clever children who think like adults. But I got over that fairly quickly and began to like the book quite a bit. I found the character of Oskar, with all his rambling thoughts and fears and inventions to be endearing. But as much I adored the passages about Oskar, I abhorred the storyline about the grandfather. It was so absurd, and stupid. I realize it was supposed to be quirky or surreal or something like that -- he can't speak because he's too sad, he gradually lost his words and now he carries around daybooks and writes all the time, he remembers a house made of walls of books, to look outside you removed books to create windows, cute, right? Groan. I felt like it clashed horribly with the story of Oskar.
Oskar's dad died in the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. After his death, Oskar found a key and then decided to try to find the lock that the key would open in hopes of learning more about his father. A significant part of the story is about Oskar's quest as he travels through New York and the five boroughs seeking the lock for this key.
Oskar's observations and contemplations provide some truly beautiful passages of loss and regret and fear. I think anyone, any age can relate to his loss of innocence and his desires.
And the passage that captivated me, the part I had to keep re-reading:
We need much bigger pockets, I thought as I lay in bed, counting off the seven minutes that it takes a normal person to fall asleep. We need enormous pockets, pockets big enough for our families, and our friends, and even the people who aren't on our lists, people we've never met but still want to protect. We need pockets for boroughs and for cities, a pocket that could hold the universe.
Eight minutes thirty-two seconds...
But I knew that there couldn't be pockets that enormous. In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that...
It reminded me of how I feel every time I hear about some tragedy in the world and wish that I could have my friends all right next to me rather than wonder where they are at that moment. Suffice it to say, I loved parts of this book.
But then you have to go back to the daybook entries of his grandfather who abandoneded his grandmother before his father was even born. He's just so very sad and he left because he was scared to love anyone and didn't want to love the baby. But 40 years later, after learning the son he never wanted to know is dead, he returns, and he's so very sorry. Talk about too little way too late. I despised this character so much, I couldn't get past my distain for him. I suspect that's the sign of good writing if someone can conjure up such strong feelings. But I felt like that wasn't the intended response, instead I was supposed to feel sorry for him, because you know, he's just so sad and he'd lost so much. As I'm reading this though I'm thinking of all the people around him who have lost just as much, who are going on with their lives as best they can and I think he is a pathetic worthless man who doesn't deserve the forgiveness of the family he abandoned. He walked out on a pregnant wife because he never quite got over the death of a pregnant girlfriend and he felt completely justified in his actions, never bothering to consider what his actions would do to his wife -- his wife, who had lost her entire family in the same fire that took the life of his girlfriend. I have no sympathy for people so absorbed in their own pain that they treat those who depend on them so horribly. He returns wanting forgiveness, wanting to know all about the son he didn't want, wanting to become a part of his grandson's life.
Had that storyline been eliminated from this story, I would have liked this book much more than I did. To me it felt like two stories, and when the two storylines do interact, it doesn't seem to play a significant role in the story, point being, had it been left out, it would not have detracted from the main story.
Another thing that bothered me was the formatting of the book. I was annoyed by the blank pages or pages with one sentence. I was distracted by the pages covered with red ink and I didn't think the photos contributed much to the story.
Overall though, I'm glad I read the book.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
I re-read Wuthering Heights recently. At work I learned that most people in the office had never read the book, so I suggested we start a book club and this be our first book.
As expected, it broke my heart again. I never know what to expect when I re-visit books from my past. When I re-read One Hundred Years of Solitude, I discovered I no longer loved the book. When I went back to Bell Jar, I discovered it meant more to me that it could have ever meant when I was a teenager. With Wuthering Heights though, I loved it just as much as I remembered loving it.
So much passion and desperation, and so much loss. I found myself hesitant to read it though, I kept stopping not wanting to go further because I knew that the situation would only get worse.
Now, almost fifteen years after the first reading, the story still resonates with me. Not because I've ever experienced anything anything like that, but rather because of my lack of passion in relationships. As a teenager I found myself longing for a feeling that intense, assuming it would be in my future. Now as an adult, I find myself facing that awareness that I'll never feel that. It's another sort of fear, my hope has become loss. What if you never find your soul mate? Do you settle for someone less or do you spend the rest of your life alone?
I've always joked that the book ruined me. Too often I find myself in boring, passionless situations which I then quickly end. I'm not happy in relationships because I'm waiting for my Heathcliff. Heathcliff, after all these years, remains as dark and intense as ever... always waiting for my Heathcliff...
my contribution for my book club:
http://prn-da-book-club.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-i-like-wuthering-heights.html
As expected, it broke my heart again. I never know what to expect when I re-visit books from my past. When I re-read One Hundred Years of Solitude, I discovered I no longer loved the book. When I went back to Bell Jar, I discovered it meant more to me that it could have ever meant when I was a teenager. With Wuthering Heights though, I loved it just as much as I remembered loving it.
So much passion and desperation, and so much loss. I found myself hesitant to read it though, I kept stopping not wanting to go further because I knew that the situation would only get worse.
Now, almost fifteen years after the first reading, the story still resonates with me. Not because I've ever experienced anything anything like that, but rather because of my lack of passion in relationships. As a teenager I found myself longing for a feeling that intense, assuming it would be in my future. Now as an adult, I find myself facing that awareness that I'll never feel that. It's another sort of fear, my hope has become loss. What if you never find your soul mate? Do you settle for someone less or do you spend the rest of your life alone?
I've always joked that the book ruined me. Too often I find myself in boring, passionless situations which I then quickly end. I'm not happy in relationships because I'm waiting for my Heathcliff. Heathcliff, after all these years, remains as dark and intense as ever... always waiting for my Heathcliff...
my contribution for my book club:
http://prn-da-book-club.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-i-like-wuthering-heights.html
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