Quite the most frustrating tale. Entirely engrossing up until the last 30 pages and then big, huge, FAIL.
First, why create a protagonist who doesn't care about anything that's presented to him? Edward isn't a slacker, but he's not anyone you should bother yourself to care about. Books? Eh. Games? Eh. Weird girl who's been helping me? Yeah, okay, I'll sleep with her, but... Eh.
Second, you made us care about this book-that-doesn't-exist. When you do that, you can't just snatch it away from us in the most horrible manner whatsoever. Unless you're thinking of creating a sequel that would be more along the lines of a thriller than a mystery. (No, really, please don't.)
Third, recognize that creating an engaging narrative about a subject that interests you does not mean you have the slightest idea of how to structure such a tale. Take some introductory novel-writing classes. Get yourself involved with a writer's group. Being a book critic is not a qualification, so just... learn to write.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Petterson, Per (Out Stealing Horses)
I love any novel set in Scandinavia. It's not the fact that it makes me feel cold to read it (as a friend recently put it), but that the language is always spare and to the point. I honestly don't think there's a Norwegian Hemingway-- I think all Norwegian writers channel him.
While I appreciated the style of the writing, it was ultimately confusing in places. There are two to three different timelines, depending on how you look at it, and Petterson does weave them together adroitly for the most part, but at times you are not quite sure if the current character is the boy or the man. This could very well be one of Petterson's points, but it makes it a little difficult to follow.
There's a lot going on here-- the mystery of one's own father, the danger of war, planned and unplanned isolation from a community. I can't easily reconcile the early interactions between the boy and his friend Jon with the later interactions of the man and Jon's brother, Lars. Is this meant to describe the reticence of Norwegian culture? Because there's not much going on on the surface, and it's a mystery to some degree what is happening in these people's brains.
In the long run, I like these kinds of novels for the sense of peace that they give me, even while they're sotto voce discussing things best left unearthed.
While I appreciated the style of the writing, it was ultimately confusing in places. There are two to three different timelines, depending on how you look at it, and Petterson does weave them together adroitly for the most part, but at times you are not quite sure if the current character is the boy or the man. This could very well be one of Petterson's points, but it makes it a little difficult to follow.
There's a lot going on here-- the mystery of one's own father, the danger of war, planned and unplanned isolation from a community. I can't easily reconcile the early interactions between the boy and his friend Jon with the later interactions of the man and Jon's brother, Lars. Is this meant to describe the reticence of Norwegian culture? Because there's not much going on on the surface, and it's a mystery to some degree what is happening in these people's brains.
In the long run, I like these kinds of novels for the sense of peace that they give me, even while they're sotto voce discussing things best left unearthed.
Simonson, Helen (Major Pettigrew's Last Stand)
[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]
I know it's been ages since I updated this review site. No excuse, really, except I was up to my eyeballs in other things. I owe the site a few reviews, so those will be forthcoming.
In the meanwhile... this LT book was really quite delightful. It's not an easy task, trying to combine two cultures into one book effectively, portraying the curiosity, fascination and at times rancor of each side without writing a textbook.
The clash between the old Brits and the new Pakistanis in England is well-known, and I was concerned that Simonson would not be able to do justice to both sides. She doesn't pull this off perfectly-- although the characters' choices make the novel move breezily, they at times feel forced or ridiculous. (Why would the Major take his guns to the cliff? Plot device.)
What seems to work well is two-fold: the humor and the affection. It was not at all surprising to me that the Major would fall for Mrs. Ali, and that it would confuse some and be completely understandable to others. Their journey is ably described through a variety of sarcastic comments that work because how else does one go through life without considerable irritability when it's throwing you curve balls at all junctures?
Mostly, however, I recommend this because I can't remember another book in recent memory that wouldn't let me go-- it was so easy to keep reading and forget everything but the story.
I know it's been ages since I updated this review site. No excuse, really, except I was up to my eyeballs in other things. I owe the site a few reviews, so those will be forthcoming.
In the meanwhile... this LT book was really quite delightful. It's not an easy task, trying to combine two cultures into one book effectively, portraying the curiosity, fascination and at times rancor of each side without writing a textbook.
The clash between the old Brits and the new Pakistanis in England is well-known, and I was concerned that Simonson would not be able to do justice to both sides. She doesn't pull this off perfectly-- although the characters' choices make the novel move breezily, they at times feel forced or ridiculous. (Why would the Major take his guns to the cliff? Plot device.)
What seems to work well is two-fold: the humor and the affection. It was not at all surprising to me that the Major would fall for Mrs. Ali, and that it would confuse some and be completely understandable to others. Their journey is ably described through a variety of sarcastic comments that work because how else does one go through life without considerable irritability when it's throwing you curve balls at all junctures?
Mostly, however, I recommend this because I can't remember another book in recent memory that wouldn't let me go-- it was so easy to keep reading and forget everything but the story.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Anderson, Laurie Halse (Wintergirls)
Powerful. I don't love poetic writing, probably because I have little to no use for most poetry. Poetic writing is designed to make you think as well as feel and the combination is often too much for me (polar opposites?). But Anderson's writing does more. She is able to spin a world far better than most writers with an adult audience, and perhaps it is because her works are for a more juvenile audience, but I don't think so.
It isn't the fact that she's a YA author, it's the fact that she understands her creations, gets under their skin (and in this case inside their bones), and makes you feel everything they feel. Which is completely and utterly harrowing.
I did not want to know what it felt like to be anorexic, to be so close to death most hours of the day! Or to be so afraid of life that you would want to cut it out of you. But in terms of understanding what many girls (way too many girls) are doing to themselves, it's a needed piece of literature. In fact, it should be on every high school curriculum.
Except that I think Anderson falls short towards the end. I would think a big component to understanding anorexia and bulimia is to learn what girls can do to counteract their fears and get back to eating again. There is little of that in the book, and I worry that girls looking for some hope and understanding won't find what they need here.
It isn't the fact that she's a YA author, it's the fact that she understands her creations, gets under their skin (and in this case inside their bones), and makes you feel everything they feel. Which is completely and utterly harrowing.
I did not want to know what it felt like to be anorexic, to be so close to death most hours of the day! Or to be so afraid of life that you would want to cut it out of you. But in terms of understanding what many girls (way too many girls) are doing to themselves, it's a needed piece of literature. In fact, it should be on every high school curriculum.
Except that I think Anderson falls short towards the end. I would think a big component to understanding anorexia and bulimia is to learn what girls can do to counteract their fears and get back to eating again. There is little of that in the book, and I worry that girls looking for some hope and understanding won't find what they need here.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Holland, Julie (Weekends at Bellevue)
[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]
I now never want to go see the doctor again.
Yes, I knew doctors were fallible, but like this? The stories she tells (and which are clearly only sidebars related to the main tale) of the sneakiness, anger and most disturbing of all, the pride of these men and women that keep them from providing decent care to patients-- I just didn't want to know this. I want to know that my doctors are well-trained, alert to my problems, willing to listen to me, and not so dang heavy with the drugs.
Granted, this woman is not a general practitioner. No, sorry, she's a psychopharmacologist now. And if that isn't the hugest bunch of hooey I've ever heard! All this woman does is dispense cocktails of drugs to sad, lonely, barely mentally ill patients in a private practice three days a week. She obviously makes enough to maintain a family of four in NYC and 1-2 houses elsewhere (it's a little vague) with this farce of a job. Add to this the fact that her writing is a stunning example of someone so egotistical and narcissistic that it shines like a beacon on every page. I'm certain that a therapist should be able to see these things, especially when they're written on paper.
The Bellevue tales are truly shocking. But that's all they are. Designed to shock. I realize she thinks they're also designed to teach. Really? I'm supposed to learn how to handle myself in a psychotherapy ER by listening to you therapeutically discuss your failings as an ER doc, how you were confrontational and, frankly, emotionally abusive to your patients, something you never learned to rein in and not once realized you weren't suited to doing. Nine years it took you to realize this?! Go to the bottom of the class.
Oh, and all that blather from your prior co-workers about how they miss you and you'll never be forgotten. Yeah, that's because you took up an inordinate amount of space physically and emotionally. How could anyone forget that?
I now never want to go see the doctor again.
Yes, I knew doctors were fallible, but like this? The stories she tells (and which are clearly only sidebars related to the main tale) of the sneakiness, anger and most disturbing of all, the pride of these men and women that keep them from providing decent care to patients-- I just didn't want to know this. I want to know that my doctors are well-trained, alert to my problems, willing to listen to me, and not so dang heavy with the drugs.
Granted, this woman is not a general practitioner. No, sorry, she's a psychopharmacologist now. And if that isn't the hugest bunch of hooey I've ever heard! All this woman does is dispense cocktails of drugs to sad, lonely, barely mentally ill patients in a private practice three days a week. She obviously makes enough to maintain a family of four in NYC and 1-2 houses elsewhere (it's a little vague) with this farce of a job. Add to this the fact that her writing is a stunning example of someone so egotistical and narcissistic that it shines like a beacon on every page. I'm certain that a therapist should be able to see these things, especially when they're written on paper.
The Bellevue tales are truly shocking. But that's all they are. Designed to shock. I realize she thinks they're also designed to teach. Really? I'm supposed to learn how to handle myself in a psychotherapy ER by listening to you therapeutically discuss your failings as an ER doc, how you were confrontational and, frankly, emotionally abusive to your patients, something you never learned to rein in and not once realized you weren't suited to doing. Nine years it took you to realize this?! Go to the bottom of the class.
Oh, and all that blather from your prior co-workers about how they miss you and you'll never be forgotten. Yeah, that's because you took up an inordinate amount of space physically and emotionally. How could anyone forget that?
Monday, August 10, 2009
Grafton, Sue (T is for Trespass)
Grafton is pulling out all the stops for her final handful of titles in the Alphabet Mystery Series. The middle section of the alphabet was truly the pits-- all of her stories seemed used, with no fresh perspectives. Even though none of her stories make significant commentary on culture or social conventions, other than to point out yet another in a long line of nasty ways that people can dupe you, everything after "C is for Corpse" and before "R is for Ricochet" has even less redeeming value.
Although I'm not quite old enough to be in fear of the situation she sets up in this current novel, even thinking that something like this could happen to me in my dotage makes my skin crawl. As with any mystery, there are occasions while reading that stop you in your tracks, along the line of "oh, c'mon, that was a bit too facile, wasn't it?" But this is precisely where Grafton is getting better-- while she's always been a master of description, she has not been a master of moving the plot along smoothly. I think that's a difficult balance to achieve as a writer. Too much description and things dull. Too little description and you haven't the faintest what the writer is talking about.
I particularly like her last line, and it's only 4 words long. (Have I made it sound enticing enough?)
Although I'm not quite old enough to be in fear of the situation she sets up in this current novel, even thinking that something like this could happen to me in my dotage makes my skin crawl. As with any mystery, there are occasions while reading that stop you in your tracks, along the line of "oh, c'mon, that was a bit too facile, wasn't it?" But this is precisely where Grafton is getting better-- while she's always been a master of description, she has not been a master of moving the plot along smoothly. I think that's a difficult balance to achieve as a writer. Too much description and things dull. Too little description and you haven't the faintest what the writer is talking about.
I particularly like her last line, and it's only 4 words long. (Have I made it sound enticing enough?)
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Bujold, Lois McMaster (Paladin of Souls)
The title doesn't work: a paladin is a warrior, albeit one without armor. Ista is certainly a force to be reckoned with, but a warrior? Nah.
Bujold takes a somewhat minor character from "The Curse of Chalion" and creates a story around her. It's not a stupid thing to do: Ista was enigmatic in the first book, and with a long history of madness and guilt, who could resist using her in another book? I disliked how down in the dumps Bujold made her-- didn't think it quite fit with the guilt she felt over her ancient murder/accident. She has a lot of guilt, you'd think she'd welcome any effort on the part of the gods to change that. To change anything about her current, ultra-boring life.
All the browbeating and general grumping about are finally done away with in the last 50 pages, but geez, it's just too late. 450 pages, lady! You could have done this story in 250 pages with no problem. It shocks me that it won the Hugo and the Nebula. "The Curse of Chalion" was so much the better book. I suppose that's like Whoopi Goldberg winning for "Ghost" instead of "The Long Walk Home."
I found the humor in the last 50 pages welcome, although I know others who were irritated by making a harsh situation comedic. Well, that's the Bastard for you, no?
Bujold takes a somewhat minor character from "The Curse of Chalion" and creates a story around her. It's not a stupid thing to do: Ista was enigmatic in the first book, and with a long history of madness and guilt, who could resist using her in another book? I disliked how down in the dumps Bujold made her-- didn't think it quite fit with the guilt she felt over her ancient murder/accident. She has a lot of guilt, you'd think she'd welcome any effort on the part of the gods to change that. To change anything about her current, ultra-boring life.
All the browbeating and general grumping about are finally done away with in the last 50 pages, but geez, it's just too late. 450 pages, lady! You could have done this story in 250 pages with no problem. It shocks me that it won the Hugo and the Nebula. "The Curse of Chalion" was so much the better book. I suppose that's like Whoopi Goldberg winning for "Ghost" instead of "The Long Walk Home."
I found the humor in the last 50 pages welcome, although I know others who were irritated by making a harsh situation comedic. Well, that's the Bastard for you, no?
Friday, July 24, 2009
Kington, Miles (How Shall I Tell the Dog?)
[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]
Two-thirds of the way through this book, Kington notes that a book that has only "the best bits" would be considered boring, supposedly because it would be exhausting to read. Unfortunately, I disagree because his book does not have only the best bits and is boring nonetheless.
Kington wrote this book as a series of humorous tales related to his growing pancreatic cancer. I applaud the effort of writing about this life event comically, since it can't have been easy or fun at times. But, there is, at its essence, nothing funny about cancer. So reading it you are wincing nearly the entire time, even when you're laughing.
The hardest laughs are at his description of his father-in-law, the yodeling bits, and the cards he wrote up to describe his cancer, in case people were looking leery. He clearly had a gift since there are laugh-out-loud parts, and maybe it's just that nothing is consistently humorous even to one individual. But... does he want to remembered by this (albeit lightweight) tome? I'm fairly sure I wouldn't.
Two-thirds of the way through this book, Kington notes that a book that has only "the best bits" would be considered boring, supposedly because it would be exhausting to read. Unfortunately, I disagree because his book does not have only the best bits and is boring nonetheless.
Kington wrote this book as a series of humorous tales related to his growing pancreatic cancer. I applaud the effort of writing about this life event comically, since it can't have been easy or fun at times. But, there is, at its essence, nothing funny about cancer. So reading it you are wincing nearly the entire time, even when you're laughing.
The hardest laughs are at his description of his father-in-law, the yodeling bits, and the cards he wrote up to describe his cancer, in case people were looking leery. He clearly had a gift since there are laugh-out-loud parts, and maybe it's just that nothing is consistently humorous even to one individual. But... does he want to remembered by this (albeit lightweight) tome? I'm fairly sure I wouldn't.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Bechdel, Alison (The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For)
I've never reviewed a collection of comic strips before, and it's quite possible I never will again. But I feel it's my duty to proselytize this particular strip for two reasons: a) it reflects a lifestyle that too many people know next to nothing about and b) it is invigorating and eye-opening.
This comic is far from one-sided, and I believe that's one of its strengths. As a heterosexual myself with not as many gay friends as I might like, I'm sure I had one and only view of lesbian life before reading it. All assumed based on what I've read and what I've imagined. Well, thank you, Alison Bechdel if for nothing else than showing how extraordinarily multi-sided the lesbian culture is. Which should be absolutely no surprise to any right-thinking person but also proves how blindered we all live.
But there's more! Bechdel is trained as an academic, and she's also clearly a newshound, so on top of the culture you get a biting critique of our political world in the U.S. for the last twenty years. I dearly wish she had continued the comic if only to see what she would have written and drawn about Obama's election (her strip went on sabbatical in May last year).
I almost wish someone would make a film based on the strip. Although I'm having a tough time casting it in my head (who plays Mo? Sandra Bullock or Samantha Morton?), the characterizations are so rich and realized, it should be a snap for a screenwriter to put together a script. Why not give Bechdel a shot at it first, actually?
This comic is far from one-sided, and I believe that's one of its strengths. As a heterosexual myself with not as many gay friends as I might like, I'm sure I had one and only view of lesbian life before reading it. All assumed based on what I've read and what I've imagined. Well, thank you, Alison Bechdel if for nothing else than showing how extraordinarily multi-sided the lesbian culture is. Which should be absolutely no surprise to any right-thinking person but also proves how blindered we all live.
But there's more! Bechdel is trained as an academic, and she's also clearly a newshound, so on top of the culture you get a biting critique of our political world in the U.S. for the last twenty years. I dearly wish she had continued the comic if only to see what she would have written and drawn about Obama's election (her strip went on sabbatical in May last year).
I almost wish someone would make a film based on the strip. Although I'm having a tough time casting it in my head (who plays Mo? Sandra Bullock or Samantha Morton?), the characterizations are so rich and realized, it should be a snap for a screenwriter to put together a script. Why not give Bechdel a shot at it first, actually?
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Larsson, Stieg (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo)
Having just come off the final GIRLPOWER episode of Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, I see clear parallels to this book-- which is all about perceptions of women and their strengths.
Poor Harriet Vanger, murdered many years ago, through a series of strange entanglements comes to the attention of a busted, soon-to-be-imprisoned corporate journalist. It's not your typical murder mystery, being wrapped up in corporate espionage and idyllic very-small-town Swedish life. (You don't expect me to read typical murder mysteries anymore anyway, do you?)
But back to the views of females-- besides Harriet, one of the main characters is Lisbeth, a young investigator. I have never seen, in print, a more sympathetic description of a person with borderline Asperger's Syndrome. In her case, she has a low capacity for social interaction, is super-smart and technically proficient, and has had enough troubles being female in her lifetime to land her in an abysmally unfair situation. It is not in any sense a classic case of a woman with "man problems," but the question of whether you could define Lisbeth as a victim is front and center. Is she? Yes. And definitely no. Really, a complex, realistic character.
If you care not a whit for espionage or Sweden or strange inter-personal relationships, read this only for the depiction of Lisbeth and you will not be sorry.
Poor Harriet Vanger, murdered many years ago, through a series of strange entanglements comes to the attention of a busted, soon-to-be-imprisoned corporate journalist. It's not your typical murder mystery, being wrapped up in corporate espionage and idyllic very-small-town Swedish life. (You don't expect me to read typical murder mysteries anymore anyway, do you?)
But back to the views of females-- besides Harriet, one of the main characters is Lisbeth, a young investigator. I have never seen, in print, a more sympathetic description of a person with borderline Asperger's Syndrome. In her case, she has a low capacity for social interaction, is super-smart and technically proficient, and has had enough troubles being female in her lifetime to land her in an abysmally unfair situation. It is not in any sense a classic case of a woman with "man problems," but the question of whether you could define Lisbeth as a victim is front and center. Is she? Yes. And definitely no. Really, a complex, realistic character.
If you care not a whit for espionage or Sweden or strange inter-personal relationships, read this only for the depiction of Lisbeth and you will not be sorry.
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