BOOKS read by KAT

Fitzgerald, F. Scott (The Great Gatsby)

2012-01-27T12:10:00.000-05:00

This is probably not a book you should read in many, many, itty, bitty sittings. In other words, don't make it a bedstand book. It's short, and can be read in one afternoon without any trouble.

This being a classic, I'm wary of saying anything at all about it that hasn't been said a million times by everyone, especially by much smarter people than myself. So, maybe just some general feelings instead.

The writing is gorgeous, especially his descriptions of places. I especially loved his description of the lawn outside Gatsby's house and how it creeped up to the house itself. What a bizarre and moving way to describe a lawn!
He is also a master of describing the elements of a scene in as few words as possible, while at the same time providing enough words to give you a completely full picture of that scene. Is there anyone else who has ever achieved that?
The story is really just a noir on the face of it. I know there's a ton of symbolism under that face, but I am usually pretty bad at recognizing these even when they're thrown in my face, so I won't pretend to tease that all out.
The last few pages felt to me like a clue to Fitzgerald's thoughts on American culture, and the divide between East and West, which harkened back to the rest of the book, but made you try to re-evaluate the entire book after you set it down. I have ambivalent feelings about that kind of novelistic approach.
If nothing else, the book really makes you hate rich people. Or at least, rich, amoral people.

Scalzi, John (The God Engines)

2012-01-15T16:18:00.002-05:00

This is by far one of the best science-fiction stories I have ever read. In fact, if Scalzi does this well with novellas, all his books should be this length. At least all his books that have one very vital thing to say about our culture and our path forward.

I don't want to say much more about it. I fondly hope that those who are a) already sci-fi fans and b) haven't read it, will seek it out and devour it as I did. I will say three things, though. 1) it is not what it seems it will be 2) the subject matter takes a detour you are likely not to expect and 3) it is a thoughtful review of one of the deepest divides in our society and societies around the world.

Brontë, Emily (Wuthering Heights)

2012-01-14T11:57:00.000-05:00

It is true that I never read this classic in high school (I think we were the Jane Eyre class instead). I will never stop wondering how I would have felt about it if I had read it then as opposed to now.

(Note: I am not reading any commentary on the novel before writing this. On the other hand, that is something I will definitely do before book club.)

It is clearly a clever person's writing. Not even because of its structure, which is a story within a story (within a story, in parts). But for its time, and not forgetting that it was written more than 30 years after Pride and Prejudice, the writing style is exactly what I expected: verbose, formal, passionate. What it is that I was NOT expecting was the gothic horror play that pervades it.

Really. I knew nothing about this book, and had never watched any adaptation on film or TV. I thought it would be dreamy, that the characters would be unforgivable or misguided or awful to each other (but of course, oh so formally) and then everyone would be redeemed through a series of experiences and events that unfold as the story continues. Not even remotely the case here! I am more than eager to find out what history knows of Emily Brontë's life, because it must have been a desperately troubled, and perhaps abusive, one. How else would she be able to drag such hatred of humankind from her characters?

Yes, yes, there's a love story. But it is so deeply hidden for most of the book that it sank into the mire for me, and I forgot it. And ended up having to focus on horrible, nasty, no-good people. Blech. I appreciate the writing, but I am not enamored of the tale.

Fitch, Janet (White Oleander)

2011-12-31T11:02:00.000-05:00

I was going to write that I couldn't be more conflicted about this book, but then I realized that I only had one positive thing to say about it.

Negative #1: The writing. It should be obvious within a few pages that this is a poet writing a novel. The problem with a poet writing a novel is that these are two different art forms. I think it's likely extremely difficult to move from one art form to the other, and this book is evidence of that. The flowery descriptive language is beautiful in and of itself, and it does match the story as it evolves but...

Negative #2: ...the plot is ridiculous. Not the foster homes part; I am certain that is as awful in real life as it is here. But when your protagonist, at barely 14 years of age, becomes, without a word of warning, a sultry, confident seductress, all believability in the character flew out the window. Plus there's the dog attack scene. And the whore next door. I mean, really.

Positive #Only: However, her mother is gorgeously drawn. You admire her and hate her and wonder at her sanity and all these conflicting feelings can only come as written from a daughter's perspective. If you read interviews with Janet Fitch, she makes it obvious that this is the only thing she did not make up in this novel. No wonder it rings with truth.

Ottaviani, Jim (Feynman)

2011-12-12T16:43:00.000-05:00

Yes, this is a bit ridiculous, posting this review but I'd like to say the following: having proofed all his prior self-published work (because where else do you get cheap labor than at home?), I can say this is far and away his best work. Because it had a professional editor (and proofer)? I will say no more.

Scalzi, John (Zoe's Tale)

2011-12-01T19:20:00.001-05:00

Ok, THAT'S why this book seemed so darn familiar. I get to the end and read the Acknowledgements. This book is essentially a remake of the end of the true trilogy, The Lost Colony, only told from Zoë's point of view, about what she did to help save the colony, how she met the werewolves, and what the Obin are really like.

And it's a load of romping fun because Scalzi got to write in his own voice, and by that I mean his blogger voice. Plus, I will admit to tearing up at the end when the Obin talk to her individually, one by one. But... really, Scalzi? This is not up to snuff.

For instance, name me one teenage girl who talks like Zoë does. In fact, I'm fairly sure that 98% of the people I work with are not as clever as Zoë is. As much as she talks about how nervous she is and that her stomach is roiling and she's completely unsure of the path she's taken, all these amazingly smart and sure and thought-out and prepossessing things come out of her mouth when in the presence of much more important or dangerous personages than herself. I'd call that facile, and not somewhat facile.

Plus I hated it when Scalzi killed off a certain important person in Zoë's life. It was completely unfair and uncool and mean. And I like it when stories take a weird or unseen twist. I will chalk this book up to not at all one of his best, and move on.

Grafton, Sue (V is for Vengeance)

2011-11-24T14:05:00.001-05:00

Another better than usual entry in the Alphabet Series. Better than the middle section of the alphabet for sure, and definitely better than most mystery series out there. I was somewhat disappointed by the plot, though.

Grafton does something different here by adding chapters specific to two other characters besides Millhone, told from their point of view. It's clear this is done to garner support and sympathy for these characters, but there's no getting around the fact that this is the weakest part of the book. If she hadn't done this, we, her audience, would feel complete disdain for them. With the chapters added in, we only feel a slight twinge of guilt in liking them and rooting for them at the end.

And why should we root for them? Grafton's hook in this book is the crime of shoplifting, and the toll it takes on retail outlets. She builds the case for being incensed by this almost invisible crime, and then garners sympathy for those who make it happen. It's an odd thing to do. And I'm convinced she needed almost none of it to build the story she did, except maybe to build up her page count.

Even though the novel has some strange choices, Grafton still has a marvelous grasp of language, and there are bits and pieces in here I really enjoyed, chief among them her creation of a bogus government employee paid to count how many cars turn into a particular road. That, and the subsequent "policing" of it, were hysterical. Plus, Millhone does all her usual things, and we love her all the more for it.

Oliver, Lauren (Delirium)

2011-11-16T11:57:00.001-05:00

What a fascinating novel. I am conflicted in almost all my feelings about it, so I think a list is the best way to describe what I'm thinking.

I loved the setting. It hearkens back all the way to Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale" in its bleak portrayal of a society that very possibly meant well and then turned into the worst of totalitarian environments. Her description of the border fence and the regulators made my hair stand on end.
I liked, but did not love, the pervasive and insistent discussion of love. Yes, it is absolutely hands-down the most important part of the novel. But the discussion of it gets bogged down in too many details, and that gets tiring. We all already know why love is important! I mean, perhaps teens do not, and that is of course the audience for this book. I can imagine a teen starting to roll his/her eyes as well, though.
I did not like how long it took to get to the point. If you are not thoroughly aware of where this book is leading, i.e., its last page, by the time you are halfway through, then you need to read a lot more books and watch a lot more movies! The plot is obvious, and it's frustrating to wait for Lena to figure out how horrible her society really is, and that there is a better way.
I am, of course, relieved that this is planned as a trilogy. The setting is intriguing enough that I want to see how Oliver plans to continue this tale.

King, Stephen (The Stand)

2011-11-02T16:49:00.002-04:00

Argh. It really stinks when you don't bother reading the fine print on the Kindle store edition, explaining that this particular version is the unexpurgated version, meaning absolutely everything King blarfed up and put on the page for this tale. I really like his stories, so this was a sad trudge. And Amazon? Why in hell's name do you only make the unedited, uncut version available on the Kindle??

So, the first bit was great, i.e., Act I in which you meet all the important characters and everyone starts dying. Then-- poof!-- you're not in a flu epidemic fantasy, but in a Christian fantasy, i.e., Act II in which all the important characters travel far distances and start getting freaked out about good vs. evil. And lastly, you see what happens to evil and what could happen to good, i.e., Act III in which the same characters travel more distances and learn more about themselves and humanity.

Act II is where you want to smash your Kindle into tiny itty bitty bits. I really liked Acts I and III, they made sense and they were exciting, but in Act II all you get is what my choir director would call noodling: "Yo, altos, here you're noodling because you're unimportant and we really want to listen to the tenors!" So you get quieter and listen harder to the tenors. The problem with Act II is that EVERYTHING in it (and it goes on for about 500 pages) is noodling-- why do we have to listen to our favorite characters worry themselves about whether the town of Boulder is going to be okay with their 7 person committee, and how well Stu Redman can talk at an assembly, him being a hick and all, and... Blah blah blah blah. Get to the POINT. We know what's going to happen in Act III because we are not idiots, for heaven's sake, so get there. Sooner than later would be good.

So all that blather about King's books always being page turners? That's only when he has an editor.

Egan, Jennifer (A Visit from the Goon Squad)

2011-10-20T17:50:00.003-04:00

The first thing I have to say about reading this is that it is very difficult on a Kindle. Our wonderful new-fangled devices don't make it easy to read something that consistently requires you to remember what came in earlier chapters. While you can skip back through chapters, it is time-consuming and doesn't yield what's needed faster than flipping paper pages.

Egan's novel is at its heart a set of stories, each interrelated-- so you can see the difficulty here. These relationships are also not as easy to maneuver as they may sound. A character's high school buddy may be easy to recognize in two earlier chapters but almost invisible in the final chapter, until Egan gives you hints. I find it difficult to remember using hints, and I'm also absolutely terrible at names. So, more work than I wanted.

But it's not the case that this was entirely unenjoyable. Any book with an entire chapter of graphs is at least humorous! If, instead of working so hard, you take each story as its own mini-cosmos, each of them provides an immense amount of well-crafted detail. It certainly felt as if I fully understood each major (and sometimes more minor) character. But because each character is so tightly woven with the others, I wanted a full resolution for all of them at the end, and that (I don't think; again, I could have missed this!) you do not get.

Steinbeck, John (East of Eden)

2011-09-21T12:48:00.001-04:00

If it hadn't been for a misbehaving Kindle I would never have picked this book up. And that's appalling because I love Steinbeck's writing and I can't believe I wasn't made to read this in high school.

Sure, it's a rather convoluted tale with heavy Genesis (so, Christian) underpinnings, and this might irritate some folks. But that doesn't mean it can't be read as a metaphor for people, in general. All of our shortcomings, triumphs, ideas, tragedies... what makes us human to begin with.

There is no grand epiphany in this story, but instead there are multiple ones for each character. Adam has several, and is served in that by Lee and Samuel-- who can't be snakes, so are they the guardian angels of Eden? You could say Kate is a snake but Steinbeck kind of makes her a mix between the snake and Cain.

Enough of trying to understand the metaphors... the best part of the book is how Steinbeck tries to describe the grand scheme of human thought. It's almost as if he's written 600+ pages in order to write 20 pages about why we're always trying to figure things out. Things that are just going to be the way they are, but thinking about them gives us a modicum of control.

I haven't read any in-depth analyses of the book, and I don't really want to. It's clearly a book I have to spend a lot of time, well, thinking about.

Gordon, Jaimy (Lord of Misrule)

2011-09-13T19:26:00.001-04:00

Absolutely, I would title my book after the best horse name in the biz. (Or at least the best horse name in this book.) I think "Lord of Misrule" trumps "Pelter," "Little Spinoza," and "Little Boll Weevil" (although that last one is fairly awesome). Strangely, though, this book isn't really about horses. It's about how we've transformed horses into a substrata of American culture, and all the wonderful and scuzzy things that come from having done that.

I'm sure the book has deeper meanings than that, but the way it reads allows you to simply go with the flow and enjoy the power that Ms. Gordon has -- how she plays with sentence structure, how she develops sympathy for characters lacking in social skills or moral bases, how she can so easily describe various horse personalities... Because it's a strange kind of power, and it makes it a bit of a loopy read. The first 50 pages are going to throw you a bit: who's talking to who? why are people called several different things, meaning I have to conflate those in my head as I'm reading? where in the world is this strange place, anyway?

Don't let it dissuade you from keeping on. That kind of power means that you don't have to pay attention to every little detail on the page. As one of my book club members said in response to books like this: it's like Shakespeare, you just let it wash over you. This book is perhaps not quite that... well... dramatic, but it's definitely emblematic of this type of writing.

I really loved my time at a real horse track.

Bacigalupi, Paolo (The Windup Girl)

2011-08-21T15:55:00.003-04:00

I completely understand why this book received the Hugo and the Nebula awards. Any decently plotted tale of the end of peak oil is going to be rewarded. Don't we all want to guess at what that particular future will be like?

It doesn't mean I have to love it, though. I think a few people have said that it is repetitive, and can I just repeat? It's repetitive. Bacigalupi tells us over and over how conflicted Kanya is, how fearful Hock Seng is, the strange obsession Anderson has towards fruit, how much Emiko never sweats. Gah! It gets so annoying. He'll go whole pages with a character saying this same stuff over and over and not moving the plot forward one inch. But for things that are absolutely necessary, he seems to completely forget to tell us, such as when an extremely important personage dies-- we don't learn about it in the scene that discusses it (yes, that sounds as weird stated like that) but later on in scenes with adjunct characters. I had to go back and re-read that bit to be sure I hadn't missed it. Nope, I hadn't.

I'm guessing with a much better editor, this could all have been avoided. Having heard from my author friends about this, editing is super painful-- having to cut all that beloved writing! But tightening a story makes it so much better for so many reasons. You'd be right to say that I can't complain about this one because it won the top awards in its field. But I'm gonna anyway if only to forewarn you.

Because it's still an interesting tale: Thailand as the last bastion of non-sterile seed stock that isn't owned by the DuPonts and Dows of that world, and the struggle to keep themselves autonomous and free from the plagues that have killed off most of their food. It's a terrifying and halfway already real world. I know that's why the awards committees honored it.

Carver, Raymond (What We Talk About When We Talk About Love)

2011-08-16T22:34:00.003-04:00

Carver is a punch in the gut, a blow to the head, a kick in the pants, never a bowl of giggles.

This is emphatically not a fun read. But these stories stay with you. If not the specifics, very definitely the general feel. I hope to hell that Carver doesn't have a lock on our zeitgeist because he finds things to say about us that are not flattering in the least. In his eyes we are a culture of depressed individuals having gotten ourselves in the worst of circumstances and without the means to disengage ourselves. We cannot all be like that! Some of us have to have the possibility for growth, for heaven's sake.

Weirder for me was that I recognized at least 3 of these stories from the movie "Short Cuts" (directed by Robert Altman). The impact of actually reading these particular stories was consequently far less than if I hadn't seen the movie. I mean, Lyle Lovett as the baker is a much more intriguing and horrifying character than Carver's baker. Altman's extension of the story left it Carver-esque but rounded it out enough that the printed story is pale by comparison.

And read the title story aloud to a friend. But make sure it's a very good friend.

Zielin, Lara (The Implosion of Aggie Winchester)

2011-08-16T22:02:00.003-04:00

It is amazing to know real published authors. I don't understand how I know almost a whole handful of them. Me, whose lack of creativity simply oozes from her pores. I guess opposites attract!

I know I can get you to read this delightfully refreshing, slightly acerbic, breakneck-paced young adult novel by saying these five things:

This is Veronica Mars, if Veronica Mars was a goth chick. (If you don't know who Veronica Mars is, well, sheesh.)
The mom was perfect. I completely understood her, and I loved and hated her at the same time. This is what we want our moms to be, down deep.
If you don't know what color a dress is that is the color of a lake at sunrise, it's time for you to move to the Midwest! (And it's one of the nicest allusions to Aggie's growth.)
Don't doubt the innards of this book. They really happened. (Mostly.)
If I could come up with prom king and queen names like Ms. Lara Zielin does, I wouldn't need a job. (You know, you could do just that for a living, Lara.)

Martin, George R. R. (A Storm of Swords)

2011-08-07T20:07:00.003-04:00

Martin is a clever writer, in that he understands how to hold onto an audience. Or at least, a particular kind of audience. If the people who read your book are the type to want a lengthy hierarchy of names they must ingest, memorize and dredge up at the appropriate moment, then increasing the complexity of your characters is really only a good thing to do.

I'm certainly surprised by the amount of family history I can keep in my head, and pleased with myself for bringing it to the foreground at just the appropriate juncture. I would bet, however, there are fans crazier than myself who have actually WRITTEN out the geneaology. Good on them.

Martin is both subtle and unsubtle in his writing approach. He's subtle when it comes to small facts. Small facts that when they change their appearance completely shape the entire story. Those are the gasp-out-loud moments. He is not subtle in the lead up to some very particular scenes. I absolutely cannot say more than this, but while these scenes were jaw-dropping in the effect they had on the story, it wasn't as if you couldn't see them coming.

By two-thirds of the way through this one, I was getting mighty irritated as still nothing had happened. Yup, Martin does a number on us for the last third, and more than one number. And... he brings people together finally. Not perhaps the most important people together, but gosh, it was nice to finally have some reunions.

Putting these aside and reading some actual paper books for a while now...

Christie, Agatha (Ordeal by Innocence)

2011-07-25T13:32:00.003-04:00

This is what happens when you set your Kindle to "wireless on" and you go on a road trip. Sigh. (If your Kindle has a leaky wireless connection, you will run out of battery by the time you get to your destination. If you are stupid enough not to bring your plug with you just in case or even a real paper book, for heaven's sake, you are hosed.)

The cottage had many mothbally, ancient choices. I have read so many Christie novels in the past that their plots all run together in my head, and it was hard to remember even which were Poirot and which were Marple. This one is neither, so that's a bit of fresh air. Unfortunately, the structure remains exactly the same as every other Christie novel so you know exactly what you'll be getting and when. (Pretty much the definition of a perfect beach read, actually.)

In addition, in this tome you get your usual "fear of foreigners," a thread that never leaves Christie's works and strongly hints at the mindset of the upper class and England in general before, during and after the war years. And double bonus in this one: a diatribe against adopted children. Christie may have been an excellent judge of character and understood the psychology of individuals and groups, but her thoughts are definitely dated for this day and age. I can't imagine how I'd feel if I had been adopted and read this book. Heavens.

In all, a lesser work for sure. If you are desiring some Christie, re-read "Sleeping Murder" or "Murder on the Orient Express." Those are far more satisfying.

Martin, George R. R. (A Clash of Kings)

2011-07-05T09:48:00.004-04:00

My favorite reviewer on Goodreads indicated that this sequel was a bit tedious because all the boys are yelling "no, it's my throne, no, it's mine, nanny nanny boo boo!" (I am paraphrasing). Yea, that's true. Martin now knows he has a great deal of time to get his points across so he takes that time and extends the story.

But I very much enjoy the ride. What I like most about Martin's tale is that he has given many characters a voice. And that he does not impugn our intelligence by repeating anything he's said before in another character's voice. In fact, an entire battle can take place off-camera: hinted at by one character, and then post-mortemed by another in a following chapter. The chronology flows forward quickly, in other words.

The drawback to this is that poor Catelyn is never reunited with her sons and daughters, and that's just plain ol' frustrating. I fully understand the plot device, but I would like one reunion, please, before Book 3 is over?? I understand that Books 4-5 are split evenly between the characters of the South and the characters of the North, so obviously my frustration is only going to increase.

In cases like these, it's important to heed Neil Gaiman's advice: "Wait. Read the original book again. Read something else. Get on with your life." (read the rest of Gaiman's post here: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/05/entitlement-issues.html)

Stanton, Doug (In Harm's Way: The Sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis and the Extraordinary Story of Its Survivors)

2011-07-05T08:44:00.003-04:00

I finished this in less than 2 days. I think that's a record for a 250+ page book.

Valid criticisms of this book might include that it reads a bit like death porn, knowing as we do the ending, but those criticisms would have missed the boat (or ship, as it were). As Stanton himself explains in an afterword, his ultimate goal in writing this story was to explore the survivors: their ordeal, their suffering, their lives post-Indianapolis. How do you survive something like this? Naturally, exploration of this gives us insights into the human character as well as insights into war itself.

Clearly, the lack of rescue of these men was due to an extraordinary amount of bad luck (if 8 switches will save your life, and 7 of them fail, this is the situation you'll find yourself in). It also shows how much at fault the Navy really was in this disaster. It's infuriating to read and propels you forward in the story to the next unbelievable bit... and the next one...

However, what I would have appreciated at the end was a little bit more about how Captain McVay felt after he heard what happened to the largest number of floating men, as well as more about how the men felt about being survivors and the guilt that comes with that. I know Stanton must have heard the latter and I'm surprised at the lack of it in the book.

Regardless, it is beautifully written and for that alone it is worth reading.

Cleave, Chris (Little Bee)

2011-06-03T15:37:00.003-04:00

It is a very rare book that I don't want to put down. This was one of them.

The best part about it? The surprise you think they are going to reveal at the end is not the surprise you thought. There are multiple surprises and multiple reveals, and they're all done without forced description, plotting or conversation. I cannot believe it hasn't won any awards (nominated for several, but no wins). The cleverness of the writing alone should have propelled it into many award categories.

The tale of Sarah the white Brit and Little Bee the black African realistically talks about the displacement of cultures and individuals. It pulls no punches. I worry that its obvious leaning towards human rights has classified it in critics' minds as something not quite worthy of top literary spots. How snooty of them, I say. The book excels at discussing weighty issues like illegal immigration, human community and the blinders we all blithely wear, without pretense and without preaching. How could all y'all literary geniuses not reward that??

As the back of the book pleads, I will not say anything about how this book ends, so as to leave the surprise(s) for you to encounter on your own.

Riordan, Rick (The Lightning Thief)

2011-06-01T17:21:00.003-04:00

I only have three things to say about this book:

1. This is Harry Potter except with mythology. There is no other difference. Three friends, on adventures, one's a girl, one's "the one", the main character has 4 syllables in his name, ad nauseum.

2. The writing felt second-rate. This may have been a factor of hearing it read by a not-stellar voice actor (I mean, let's give the baddies all California-guy accents, say what?). Still, it seemed rote, obvious, trite.

3. Stemming from the prior two, it was just plain... boring. You know where it came from, where it is, and where it's going within 4 pages. Good thing I was driving, or I would have nodded off.

I don't think I'll be following up on reading the rest of the series.

Doctorow, Cory (Little Brother)

2011-05-21T21:30:00.004-04:00

Y'know, this may be heavy-handed and barely fantasy, but still every (right-thinking) American should read it. Oh, I'm probably going to get a lot of hate mail for that statement.

I'll state right up front that I didn't agree with every decision young Marcus made. Perhaps this is intentional by Doctorow: making sure that his protagonist is as close to a real, live teenager as he could be. He was scared and angry in all the right places, but he was also a lot cleverer and braver than an average teen. Again, that could be Doctorow pointing out that the young generation is the one that has the chops to fight for what is right, if they're only willing to step up to the plate. However, organizing and/or taking part in mass public demonstrations that are very clearly NOT peaceful or non-chaotic rubbed me the wrong way. I understand the intent: getting everyone to recognize a wide-reaching issue, especially those with blinders on. I'm simply unconvinced it's the most appropriate method. Call me old!

His ending is also a little forced in its confluence of events, although the final outcome is nuanced enough to seem believable.

Overall, the major reason to read this is to revisit the Bush era, its abysmal decisions, and get irritated and frightened all over again. It's a good thing to remember this particular past, so that we Americans can work harder not to fall into the same quicksand again.

Skloot, Rebecca (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks)

2011-05-14T17:50:00.000-04:00

I am impressed.

Skloot's most obvious talent is her ability to tell a story with frankness and clarity. In fact, this type of nonfiction is contained in a specific genre: creative nonfiction. Perhaps I'm a dolt, but I had never heard of that before I read the acknowledgements at the back of this book. This describes virtually every nonfiction book I've read in the past 10 years. No dry, dull tomes for me. You can give me this engaging genre every time.

In particular, it's difficult to marry science reporting with slice-of-life reporting. Initially, I wasn't certain she was pulling it off, but it becomes clear that she is setting the stage so that she can discuss the weightier issues of tissue sampling, patient consent and cell contamination bollixing up oodles of research projects, without detracting from the very real-life drama of the Lacks' family.

Of course, the story of Henrietta Lacks is at the same time appalling and energizing. It can't not be, with its mix of legacy and rejection. You are equally horrified by the lack or respect given to the family (even if some of the legal issues live in a decided gray area) and amazed by the usefulness of the HeLa cells for research, generally and specifically.

If you have never read a nonfiction story, please pick this one up. I would recommend it above every other one I have read.

Martin, George R. R. (A Game of Thrones)

2011-05-09T16:29:00.003-04:00

It could be that reading over-800-page books on Kindle makes them more ingestible, but I enjoyed the start of this series more than Wise Man's Fear. Maybe I won't feel the same way about the second book...?

The prep work that Martin has done is obvious once you get past the first 200 pages. If I can't keep all the families and their allegiances straight, how is the author going to?? I imagine he created a bible, such as the Lost creators did, to keep all the relationships straight. Either that or a very intricate-looking wall (a la Flashforward). Martin knows he's writing an epic, and he knows his readers know, so he didn't feel hard pressed to explain every connection between people upfront. And well that he didn't. It's far more intriguing to be a little lost at the beginning and slowly begin to "get it"-- it makes you feel like part of a secret club.

What Martin does that Rothfuss does not is write plainly. I should put that the other way, really: what Rothfuss does that Martin does not is create beautiful descriptions of events as they occur. In Rothfuss' books, this is an absolute necessity. In Martin's book, it would simply get in the way. He cares far, far more about plot and the arc of the story and giving you an ending you can hang your hat on. He's also a master at cliffhangers and punches in the gut. Oof.

And that was a mighty ending. It perfectly positions the world he's created for the next round: what happens to Arya? does Sansa change her stripes? will Jon become the mensch we all see him becoming? will Bran fly? does Robb get to grow as a man or only as a lord? who in the bloody heck is Daenerys?? All these things and more I am sure will be answered in the next book. Or pushed along to the one after that...

P.S. I'm not watching the series on HBO. Not until I'm all done.

Leithauser, Brad (The Art Student's War)

2011-04-27T11:09:00.004-04:00

Lordy. If this is the latest, greatest nostalgic look at Detroit as the city-it-was, then what is this world coming to??

Leithauser may be a well-renowned writing teacher and author, but I believe he has failed in a large way with this ode to his mother and her childhood in Detroit. I think it's safe to say that if you, an author, are going to write something coming from a deeply personal space, you better make sure you're able to step back and view it objectively after that first draft.

There are some truths here (the effect of industrialization, how the war affected those at home, etc.) but in general the overwhelming naivete of the main character is bloody wearing, and very quickly. Oh, the worst thing ever, my mother is a thief, oh, oh! Really? What if your mother were a murderer? Oh, war is hell, it's so hard to go to the hospital and draw portraits of the soldiers, it makes me physically ill sometimes, oh, oh! Really? How do think these mangled soldiers feel themselves?

Gawd. Just stupid, stupid writing.

Rothfuss, Patrick (The Wise Man's Fear)

2011-04-16T12:28:00.003-04:00

I would not have thought Rothfuss could fall prey to the single worst problem with trilogies. To be brief: you MUST advance the plot in the 2nd book of a trilogy.

If you don't, it remains far less than what it should be-- a bundle of nice stories. I definitely enjoyed the stories (although the bit with Felurian made it eminently clear that it is a man writing this book, not a woman). They made Kvothe a bit more of the legend you know him to be in the interludes. Unfortunately, that is all they did. They did not get you further in learning more about both the Chandrian and the Amyr, and for heaven's sake, what do you think I'm reading this trilogy for?? If that little onion of a mystery isn't peeled back a bit every 100 pages or so, I feel gypped.

Even more important, I fail to understand how he thinks he will fit 20+ years of a tale (book 1+2 = about two years of Kvothe's life) into the last book. Do you expect me to believe that Kvothe brought down a kingdom a mere year after the events of the 2nd book, and has spent the last twenty years hiding out as an innkeeper? That's a level of ridiculousness I'm not willing to believe in.

That all said, his writing is as joyful and unforced as it was in the first book. There's a reason I finished an 1000-page book in a mere 3 weeks. His stories are never dull and they often make you laugh out loud at their cleverness. I am disappointed in what he's done here on a global scale, but don't think I don't want to read the last book right now. I bet we wait 6 years for this next one, though. Ugh.

Pollan, Michael (The Omnivore's Dilemma)

2011-03-25T14:22:00.000-04:00

Holy crap. Every single person in the United States has to read this book. In fact, it should be a national directive. Isn't Michelle all het up about food? Can't she make every adult read this? We need to give our First Persons more power, I guess.

Besides the subject matter (more on that in a sec), the main reason to read this is the stellar quality of the writing. It is rare to run across a writer capable of so much: editing himself (both globally and per sentence), while at the same time thoroughly describing something and leading you to the next sentence/paragraph/page seamlessly. I was constantly astounded by this.

Subject matter! Wow. I had my eyes opened. And we eat really, really well in our house, in general. We have an organic farm share, get dairy delivered direct from cows milked that morning, pick up honey and eggs and fruit from the farmer's market, and do our darndest (well, I do) to get grass-fed lamb and chicken. (For some reason, that latter thing is the hardest.) But after reading about corn! in! all! your! food!, I went and took a look at the packaged stuff we can't avoid using, and yes. It is all full of corn. Corn in miniscule amounts, but it's still corn.

In fact, I double-dog dare ya to look at your typical Morton salt container.

Strout, Elizabeth (Olive Kitteridge)

2011-02-27T18:48:00.006-05:00

I'm appalled by how easily this punched me in the gut over and over and over again. I've read my share of down-and-out short stories (e.g., anything by Alice Munro). The ones that make you feel pretty good about your own life because if these sad sacks actually exist, you're doing darn well... This was different.

This isn't technically a novel but instead a set of stories woven together by the common thread of this woman, Olive Kitteridge, a schoolteacher in rural Maine. In many of the stories she barely makes an appearance, other than she taught the main character or just lives in the same town. This in no way detracts from the power of the entire tale. I'm not going to go so far as to say that it enhances it, but it is a clever device in that it allows Strout to add more variables instead of needing to use Kitteridge as the one constant.

Each story already showcases someone lonely, down on their luck, or even blatantly crazy. It's too facile to say that what Strout is doing is twisting and bending these stories to make them even sadder. That might be true. What her main intent is, though, is not plot or theme or story. It's reflection. The whole art-is-a-mirror-reflecting-real-life is a tired trope, but when you engage with a piece of art that truly does this, it'll take your breath away. These stories were far more than sad-- they pulled all the bits of yourself that you aren't interested in seeing from your belly to your head so you have to interact with them.

This is not pleasant, but it sure does provide a whole ton of insight into your own life and your past. I wouldn't necessarily say approach with caution because these stories are eye-opening and unforgettable and shouldn't be missed, but be aware of how they may affect you. There's a reason this won the 2009 Pulitzer for fiction.

Gabaldon, Diana (Dragonfly in Amber)

2011-01-29T21:52:00.002-05:00

OK, I'm done for now. Having read nearly 1500 pages of the trials and tribulations of Claire and Jamie, I'm ready to give it a rest. I still have 6 more books in the series to go (one yet to be published), but I am full up.

I still really enjoyed reading this one, but it felt a bit like a sophomore slump. There are at least 400 pages devoted to their time in Paris, and while replete with stabbings, jealousies and really disgusting hygiene, this part felt like a slog. It is obvious they will not remain in Paris and I was just chomping at the bit to get them back to lovely, not-hygienic-but-full-of-fresh-air-at-least Scotland. It's necessary for the plot, and for what she set up in the first novel, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

Also, Claire and Jamie are much more at odds in this book, and that's nothing to enjoy. Perhaps it's also necessary. I would have preferred that at least one of the truly awful things hadn't happened. It colors their relationship forever and anon, and since there's an awful lot of both forever and anon in this series, I'm afraid it will change my feelings for these characters.

Because Gabaldon does do that: she's excellent at creating characters, filling in all the details, and making you care about them. Granted, she has a whole lot of pages to do that in but I can name a number of lengthy books that don't do this half so well. It's absolutely required when you're writing fantasy, too. The reader has to have something real to hang their hopes on.

Shaffer, Mary Ann and Barrows, Annie (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society)

2011-01-10T16:48:00.001-05:00

My mother-in-law gave me this book to read, and I groaned inwardly. Really? A book with that title? These are things I usually stay away from with a 14-ft. pole. Often they're ultra-cutesy, chick-lit extraordinaire. I'm here to tell you that is definitely not the case here.

I'm not sure what to compare it to exactly as it seems to fit in a category by itself. It is historically accurate, but not an historical novel. It is a series of letters, but not a biography. It is quite amusing at times, but not a joke book. OK, here's what it is: a novel set directly after WWII as Britain is shaking off the dust and rebuilding itself, with an authoress as protagonist looking for her next book to write. A random letter sets many things in motion that eventually lead her to the Channel Islands where she learns how the war affected the inhabitants.

That sounds horribly dry. Did I mention it's really funny in parts? You learn a great deal about Guernsey and the horrible things the people there had to endure, so that's not amusing in the slightest. So, what makes it so engaging is how Shaffer and Barrows can leap from the extremely funny to the downright tragic in the space of a page or two. Similarly surprising is how the authors are able to draw such rich characters via a series of letters, written one to the other.

I dare you not to read it in one sitting, actually. It's that engrossing.

Mann, William J. (How to Be a Movie Star: Elizabeth Taylor in Hollywood)

2011-01-10T13:40:00.004-05:00

I actually agree with this author's thesis: that the studio system, the actress's own proclivities, and the public created the star we know as Elizabeth Taylor. I just found it difficult to wade through the gossip to get there.

Normally I would never pick up a book like this because of all its dish, but my book club foisted it on me. (Don't kill me, TS!) I wasn't all that interested in it for the same reason I'm not all that interested in Us Weekly. Actually I loathe Us Weekly, and thankfully this book is not loathsome. Just somewhat boring.

One of my biggest problems was the repetition. On nearly every page, he pushes the importance of understanding that Taylor grew up in the star-making system, and consequently knew no other way to live. First: I don't need to hear this ad nauseum, I got it the first couple times. Second: it's a little hard to believe that we were in awe of a woman who didn't know how to cook her own breakfast. I should appreciate this for what reason? I understand that movie stars = royalty in this country, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with how we treat them.

I also understand that he missed certain large aspects of Taylor's life. He tells us up front that he's going to do this. But when he tells us off-the-cuff that Burton re-married and that Taylor and Burton starred in something together long after their divorce, it just makes our antennae stand on end. If he's going to give us the play-by-play of their marriage, for what reason does he withhold more juicy gossip? I, for one, am not dying to know, but I can imagine others feeling exasperated.

Obama, Barack (The Audacity of Hope)

2010-12-29T18:52:00.008-05:00

Maybe I read this too late. I wonder how I'd feel about it if I'd read it (listened to it) before or during his presidential campaign. It just seems somewhat naive now.

I can't help but wonder if he still feels the same way about constituents, his fellow politicians, the state of the world, and his pie-in-the-sky ideas for changing the world. While it's certainly an engaging book, and especially if you're listening to him read it himself, it sounds very much like the musings of someone who hasn't done a lot of work yet. I know that the current challenges he's facing are harder to handle than those he's describing in this book. But are these Obama's rose-colored glasses or, as many would worry during his candidacy, simply a lack of experience? I wonder if he'd write the same book now.

I, and apparently the rest of the world, are extremely bummed that this is an abridged version. It wasn't until I took a look at the book's Table of Contents on Amazon after listening to it that I realized that. I mean, the whole chapter on foreign policy is gone! Why would they do that?? Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I will spend the time to read the book after having listened to most of it.

Regardless, his best chapters are "Politics" and "Family." At least in "Family" he discusses some weighty issues in a more light-hearted manner, and at times he even made me tear up. It's comforting to know that his life is not perfect, that Michelle and he had years of trouble after their kids were born, and that he struggles with being a decent dad. To be honest, at heart, that is what makes this book work.

Gabaldon, Diana (Outlander)

2010-12-06T13:12:00.003-05:00

I believe Diana Gabaldon's Wikipedia entry says that her books are difficult to classify seeing as they include elements of romantic fiction, historical fiction and science fiction. Yup. I expected purely romantic fiction when I picked this up. Now before everyone jumps all over me for that, I chose this because it is popularly designated a primo example of good romantic fiction. I read my share of terrible romances as a teen and I wanted to see if the genre had anything better.

But, if this is the best that romance novelists have to offer, then I am still unclear whether there is any really good, purely romance fiction out there. Because the Wikipedia entry has it entirely right-- there is, in fact, so much history in this book (and very well researched history to boot) that I think its primary classification should be historical fiction. I have learned oodles about Scotland before England enveloped it, as well as aiding in dredging up memories from grade school when we learned a bit about living in the 1700s.

Don't let that stop you: it's vastly entertaining, not a history lesson. The first half, in fact, is somewhat devoid of history, being spent primarily on setting the stage. I was a little bored and not sure I wanted to continue through this 600-plus-pages novel. It most definitely gets more interesting in the last half. Really surprisingly interesting. However, if you are averse to time travel and its ramifications, avoid this. She spends few words on it but it is there, and since she ends Book #1 with so many unanswered questions, I expect it rears its ugly little head in force in Book #2.

Hensher, Philip (The Northern Clemency)

2010-12-03T13:59:00.001-05:00

I got 4/5 of the way through this very lengthy book, enjoying the ride itself but not understanding what the heck it was about. Then I read the back cover blurb. Oh! It's about morality! Yes, it is, but the ride is so long and interesting in and of itself that this got diffused and diluted. So, now that I know what it's about, I like it even more. I would recommend keeping this blurb in mind as you read. I found the latter 1/5 even more enjoyable because I knew what Henshaw was getting at.

Try not to be put off by the length... As I said, it's a really nice ride. You stay with each family member (of 2 families) from youth to middle age and because of how long it is, you learn a great deal about how each character thinks and changes over time. If there's anything amiss, it's that aspects of people's character change often, without warning, and/or you don't learn about a basic fact of someone's character until very late in the book (take Francis, for instance). I would bet a million dollars that Henshaw did this precisely and on purpose, but it's sometimes off-putting. Keeps you thinking, of course.

There's also the British aspect of this that I always enjoy so much. Not just the fact that they say they're "off to hospital" and all that, but that life is the same and yet slightly twisted. I mean twisted because it feels as if everything (food, housing, jobs, traffic, etc. etc.) is about 15 degrees off from "normal." It's strange, in the nice sense of strange.

Phillips, Gin (The Well and the Mine)

2010-11-22T17:27:00.002-05:00

This is an admirable first novel. I'm sure all first novellists quail at that kind of sentence as it is patronizing and implies room for improvement. Well, that's partly true here. I don't wish to be patronizing, but I do think there is room for improvement.

The book centers on an event at a family's water well and how life unfolds for each member after this event. Phillips' character development is very good (apart from the mother, Leta, who I feel is never done justice, but more on that in a sec), and her plot moves along fairly briskly. What I thought didn't quite work was in the grand scheme of things-- by setting this novel in the cornpokes of Alabama in the 1920s, there is no way not to discuss racism. I get that. But, it felt very much like a rehashing of themes discussed by many, many others over many, many years... without any visible stylistic difference. I'm thinking of The Help, which I also just read. That was unique (and it wasn't just that it was written by a white woman).

I did like that she gave voice to each of the family members, which felt like a smooth way around some of the problems inherent in first person narrative. But the character of Leta bothered me greatly. She is portrayed as a saint with no rough edges or deep thoughts until about 3/4 of the way through when her childhood is described and she reveals the ideas and problems she keeps inside. That's way too late! She seemed absolutely unreal before this point.

I liked the mystery of the event at the well, but I thought its resolution was spoiled by the penultimate critical event of the book which in the end was absolutely nothing at all. And, lastly, the title? Who suggested that? It actually doesn't fit the theme and it doesn't fit the plot.

Gaiman, Neil (Anansi Boys)

2010-11-08T15:39:00.002-05:00

Wow. Seriously, there aren't any more Lenny Henry audiobooks out there? That is the saddest thing I've ever heard.

If I picked up the book today every word would be spoken in my head in Henry's indelible Jamaican accent. He's got the high-tone Brit, lower-class Brit and super-annoying-cliche-ridden Brit down pat, but it's when he gives voice to the elder statespersons of the book that it really takes off. His Florida kaffee klatsch cum witch haven cannot be believed until you hear it done in that Jamaican accent, and flawlessly.

Definitely a fantasy offering, as it leans heavily on the spirit world, old myths, and inconceivable leaps of logic, it's the tale of two brothers split apart in childhood discovering they are two halves of a whole and that this changes what they really desire out of life. Oh, and their father is the embodiment of one of those old myths, just to keep things interesting. It's true, this is probably mostly for teens, but it's not without its adult themes. Plenty of death, sex and career-vs-job discussions to keep everyone alert.

The ending is a bit pat, and you can probably see it coming a mile off, so the journey is more fun than the result. But even for those who prefer endings with mystery and a lack of resolve, I will guarantee that listening to this will not disappoint. And it won't be making you dumber. Do you expect more from a fantasy tale?

Beagle, Peter S. (The Line Between)

2010-11-08T15:07:00.002-05:00

It probably doesn't help that I read this in bed, which means that I would re-read the same page at least twice, falling asleep after two pages total, thereby only reading one new page a night. But, I swear it didn't help that Beagle is prone to repeating himself at the end of paragraphs, in an obvious move to get his point across more forcefully. Such as (not verbatim): ... I told him what was going to happen. I told him, you know. ...

I would consider this the laziest of writing. If you're not able to get to the point of what you want to say inside a paragraph, then you need to edit that paragraph to do so. Not just punctuate it, for heaven's sake.

This was more irritating as I got further through the stories. So, I enjoyed the mouse tale and the witch/warlock tale quite a lot (the fables seemed fairly useless), but when I reached Quarry, that tale put me over the edge. First off, its premise is clouded. Second, because that's clouded, you don't care about the protagonist. Third, what house? what's weird about it again? who's hunting them? huh?

Everyone says The Last Unicorn is the best thing he's written, and so maybe I'll try that, but I lack a great deal of enthusiasm for it. Especially since his Two Hearts tale in this short story collection (supposed to be a sequel to The Last Unicorn) was a whole lot of who cares for me. (And a double dose of huh.)

Lewis, Michael (The Blind Side)

2010-10-13T20:16:00.002-04:00

I am not a football fan, not even close. So, I came at this book via the route most Americans probably took. I saw that there was a new flick and that it had an engaging actress in it and that it had some Oscar nods. Looked good, rented, watched.

Yup, it was a good movie, but the first 5 minutes were particularly intriguing. Why begin a rags-to-riches tale by discussing how the game of football has changed due to the lack of defense around a passing player (i.e., the quarterback)? Yes, it impacts the story, but this was not the story they were telling. Since I knew the film was based on a book, I thought I'd give that a try as well. (In the interest of full disclosure, several folks had highly recommended it by that time.)

Michael Lewis is now in my list of top 5 favorite non-fiction writers. I mean, here's a book with an overabundance of details about the game of football, all to describe the importance of one player: the left tackle. How much more boring can you get? Lewis' gift is to weave the statistics of the game, the players and, most importantly, the coaches into a tale that keeps you glued to the page. Really. Even a page spouting the percentage of complete passes for this quarterback and that quarterback and yet another quarterback... kept me waiting breathlessly for the reveal. And there was always a reveal.

The family in the film, the Tuohys, and their adopted son, Michael Oher, are in half of this book and are just as engaging to read about-- Michael's story is sad, startling and ultimately triumphant-- but, believe it or not, the chapters about the game itself were why I kept on reading. No, I will not be turning into a football fan as a result, but that's not why I read it and not why you should read it. Read it because Lewis is a master at the art of journalism in its most pure form.

Boyd, William (Restless)

2010-09-21T20:40:00.000-04:00

I'm not mustering a lot of enthusiasm to write this review. It wasn't that the writing wasn't keen and the characters weren't well drawn and the setting wasn't pretty darn fascinating. It's that it started off so slowly. And that surprised me.

In the beginning, our heroine (or one of our heroines) is being wooed to the life of being a spy, but in a most lethargical manner. Emotion doesn't overrun anyone, and there aren't any impassioned speeches. Instead everything's very British and upstanding. Even the sex scenes, while plenty pornographic (oddly), are discussed in a remarkably detached manner. Nothing about the plot is confusing, that's quite nicely laid out. It's just the overall ambience that refuses to draw you in.

The best thing about the book is learning even the tiniest bit about spying, and in particular, about WWII and British spies in America. It left me wondering what Boyd was not telling us, or what he simply is unable to know because it's all still kept in locked steel vaults. I think of the recent, and ongoing, problems with Russian spies in Britain, and I wonder if this is something pervasive and unique to that country. It's all very intriguing.

If you're looking for a bit of a laconic read, and a world you likely know very little about, give it a try. But it's not a wholehearted recommendation.

McCall Smith, Alexander (The Full Cupboard of Life)

2010-09-04T15:53:00.003-04:00

It's fairly difficult to not fall in love with Botswana after reading one of the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency books. McCall Smith's purpose in life seems to be to prove that all of Africa is not scary, wild and corrupt, and that Botswana is a shining example of an African nation with a unique set of circumstances and problems, to be sure, but one that is correctly civilized.

I say this a bit sarcastically because while I'm sure it has a large element of truth, McCall Smith forces it down our throats over and over and over again. This is what I find most hilarious about these books, that there is so much repetition. To be specific, in any of the books in this series, you are sure to see every one of these 4 things:
- traditionally built women, not skinny like these young people are
- old-style values, not the way these young people carry on
- cups of bush tea, designed to refresh the mind
And, most important of all,
- "97% success in the Botswana Secretarial College exams"
This latter one is repeated so often in conjunction with a certain character that I think these books should have drinking games associated with them. Read the book at one sitting, and see how drunk you get by the end, downing a shot for every time you hear that phrase.

Look, I wouldn't be reading my 5th book in this series if I didn't enjoy these plots: they're slow and soothing, and they envelop me in a culture I am not at all familiar with. They are like a cup of bush tea-- very refreshing!

This one, in contrast to the previous 4, I listened to on audiobook. The narrator is Lisette Lecat, a South African playwright. She threw me with her enunciation of the Mma's and Rra's liberally sprinkled throughout the text, but now I couldn't imagine saying them this way in my head (the correct way, I assume) when I read my next No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency book.

Gaiman, Neil (The Graveyard Book)

2010-09-03T14:22:00.001-04:00

Gaiman has a certain tone that carries from his comics to his books to his screenplays. It's kinda obvious to say that his tone is dark, since that's what he's known for, but it's different from most darkly written things in that it has heart. This is definitely obvious in this book, which I would certainly hope, seeing as it was written for a juvenile audience.

It is, however, a bit offputting to be confronted by 3 deaths and one pending death within the first two pages of the book. I wonder how many countries/states have banned this book from their libraries and schools, even with its Newbery Medal in 2009. (Although I'm told that a lot of the most excellent children's books have deaths in them.) The gruesome nature of the deaths, even though there is no blood or gore or anything of the sort, was pretty darn disturbing. But, if you can get past that and into the next chapter, there's a good reason to stick with it.

It's the care Gaiman takes in constructing his characters that makes his setting more cosy than creepy. A young (live) boy living in a graveyard with the denizens (dead) of the graves could be decidedly creepy. Instead it warms the cockles of your hearts, watching the boy navigate among ghouls, slithery snake-y creatures, and really bad men. Gaiman does this best in the chapter about the Danse Macabre, changing the meaning and intent of the original legend, and leaving you with a warm, fuzzy feeling that...

Well, just read it, okay?

Eggers, Dave (Zeitoun)

2010-08-19T10:32:00.004-04:00

I have very little to say about this book. It is great, and everyone should read it.

I'll be a little more descriptive: as much as you know about the Hurricane Katrina fiasco, there are some things you don't know. It won't be hard to stick with the book through the part of its story that you may be well aware of. Eggers is an excellent writer (and I dare say that he's most excellent when telling someone else's story rather than his own), and he handles sensitive subjects like this one very well. I guarantee that the last 1/3 will be appalling to anyone with a heart and soul, and Eggers does a superb job laying out the facts in depth before providing any commentary or opinions of his own. Since it's written in the 1st person, from both Abdulrahman and Kathy's POVs, the opinions technically are not Eggers' own. Although I believe he wouldn't have written this if he hadn't had similar opinions...

Rothfuss, Patrick (The Name of the Wind)

2010-07-26T11:50:00.003-04:00

Ah. This is like a fresh breeze on a super-hot, sticky Midwestern summer day. I read so many duds or near-duds in the genre of fantasy that when I find something that is so well-written, it truly is a breath of fresh air.

Due to many circumstances (life getting in the way, mostly, it sounds like), the next book in the series is not due out until next March. Part of me wishes I'd waited to read this book until late February because I am now extremely eager to see what happens next in the saga of Kvothe (pronounced Ku-oth), hero, musician and magician, but also very much a flawed man.

Set in a world slightly different from ours (um, it has magic) and a few ages back (folks still wear cloaks on a regular basis), it's not like the territory Rothfuss is traveling is different from any other fantasy territory that's come before. You have the usual setting for these types of stories, evil geniuses, wayward muses, mysterious women, etc., etc. That's not what makes it great. What makes it great is that Rothfuss builds ultra-believable characters against a strong base that he has worked hard to make sound real. He also does something few others can do for me anymore in fantasy-land: he makes me laugh out loud in surprise every 20 pages or so. In a book that's 662 pages long, that is a gigantic feat of writing.

I truly wish more of my friends read fantasy. I am always hesitant to recommend something I feel so strongly about in a genre that few seem to enjoy (especially women, a constant sadness for me). To repeat myself (and perhaps over time make a convert or two), I feel the same way about fantasy as I do about sci-fi: the best of these books reflect issues and problems in the real world. I'm certain Rothfuss has done this in spades.

King, Stephen (The Dead Zone)

2010-07-19T10:03:00.005-04:00

I'd only read one thing by Stephen King before, a short story about people stuck on a raft in a lake (called "The Raft," natch). It was hands-down the scariest thing I'd ever read and I don't think I slept that night at all. Likely, that kept me away from King for a couple decades, but recently after a particularly stimulating off-topic book club discussion, I got re-interested in his oeuvre. Hubby was also interested in trying another book of his, so for multiple reasons (which I won't bore you with here) we chose this one.

I'm guessing it is not representative of his work. It's possible he was already in the throes of severe addiction at this point (he wrote it in 1979, he quit in 1987). I wonder if this is the case because the story, while not wayward, tends towards off-topic description on a regular basis. OK, the political discussion *is* actually on topic since it takes up a huge portion of the latter part of the story. My thinking as I was reading it, though, was "why not just write an essay about politics?" Why try and merge venting about politics with the forward progress of the plot? It stuck in my craw and wouldn't leave.

Also, this is not horror. Not by any stretch of the imagination. There are some bits that make you go "ew" and other bits that make you go "ugh" but that's about it. I was actually disappointed. Although King is a good enough novelist that he can create a page-turner out of almost nothing. He excels at characterization, and he makes us care about the characters he's created. That, if nothing else, is a reason to read his books, I would say.

I'm guessing I ought to read "The Stand" next, as that seems to be a fave. Other recommendations?

Asimov, Isaac (Asimov's Mysteries)

2010-07-12T16:34:00.002-04:00

A Goodreads friend reviewed this, and it immediately piqued my interest because it is sci-fi and it is mystery and the two together are really hard to do. Up to this point, I had only read Larry Niven's attempts at this (best compilation of these: The Long Arm of Gil Hamilton) and was quite satisfied with his results. I figured it was time to try another sci-fi grand master and see what I got.

1. Asimov is not Niven. He did not write at the same time, and while they both have strange misogynistic leanings in their writing, Niven is a breath of fresh air compared.
2. Niven can think outside the box. Each of Asimov's stories in this collection, excepting the last one ("The Billiard Ball"), are written according to a template: problem, hints as to the source of the problem, some extra blather if you're lucky, solution. They do not deviate from this path, and by the time you've gotten to story #3, you're already bored.
3. Each of these stories is based on some piece of hard science. Most of these stories' solutions are based on when and where that piece of hard science is different from usual (e.g., when you're not on Earth, it acts like...)
4. "The Billiard Ball" is special because you may not see the solution in advance. The hard science used is delightfully futuristic, even in today's world, so that may be why it works better than the others.

Just read the last one, then, and maybe "Marooned off Vesta" and "Anniversary" if you want to see how Asimov was much better in his younger days. (Interesting fact: "Marooned off Vesta" is his very first published story. He was 18.)

Pratchett, Terry (The Wee Free Men)

2010-07-07T09:34:00.005-04:00

If this book doesn't have you talking in a fake Irish accent every time you pick it up, then you can probably ignore all of Terry Pratchett's books. This has the kind of clever silliness that could rub you the wrong way if you're not in the mood for it or prefer your sci-fi books to be more clever than silly.

So, this little frolic is about a girl who wonders if she is a witch, has had her brother taken by an evil fairy queen, and is beset by these odd little blue men (those of the Irish accents) who attempt to help her defeat the queen and get her brother back. See what I mean? I can't even begin to imagine how awful this type of tale would be in a lesser writer's hands. Even though I'm not a writer, I know this much: building a fantasy world and populating it with characters we have empathy for might be a difficult task in and of itself, but making it *believable*? That is the trick.

And funny! Once in a blue moon, I'll hear my husband laugh while reading a novel. This one made him giggle. A lot. Laugh out loud moments are aplenty, and as you might guess, those wee men are the ones making that happen. In fact, the girl herself is a deadly serious, too-smart-for-her-own-good type of girl. We empathize with her, but she's going to a damn formidable woman, you can see that right away.

My only quibble with the book is its length. By that I mean, that there are several twisty plot bits towards the end that seemed about thrice as many as necessary. One really excellent, slightly lengthier twisty bit would have served the book better. I got a bit tired of waiting for the true end.

Stockett, Kathryn (The Help)

2010-07-02T09:54:00.006-04:00

I believe the term irony applies extremely well in this situation. Stockett has written a book about a book that through word-of-mouth becomes a popular bestseller, and that book she wrote? It's a popular bestseller. I wonder if she wondered about that. Every author hopes it will happen.

There's a good reason it's popular. It's extraordinarily well-written, in different voices no less, includes several mysteries that leave you on the edge of your seat for pages and pages, and... dare I say it... assuages our white people's guilt. I'm speaking only for myself here, but the righteous indignation that I felt when reading about the treatment of black women in the South in the 60s comes from the fact that I am both removed from it (by the passage of time and lots and lots of legislation) and still in it (why else the need for diversity training?). I firmly believe we need a lot more books like this, if only to surface these feelings on a regular basis.

There's no happy ending to this novel. There are some satisfactory conclusions, but Stockett makes sure we don't forget the overall environment of time and location, and that there are myriad small and large changes still to take place. If I have any quibbles with the book, it's that the satisfactory conclusions are a bit obvious, and in at least one part, forced. Because the rest of the story is so believable, this barely registered with me until I had to think about writing a review.

Haruf, Kent (Plainsong)

2010-06-13T15:26:00.004-04:00

I am a sucker for minimalism. (Check out the last review: all that description drove me up the wall.) Probably all of my favorite books work hard to give you the basics and let you draw your own conclusions as you move from page to page. Even the title of this one tells you what to expect when you crack it open.

Haruf is drawing a painting here: a small town in somewhere America, populated by not-so-simple people, but drawn by Haruf so that they seem that way. Not until you get close to the end do you realize that he's said so much in such a short time. The loneliness of the two little boys, the base need to do the "right thing" as evidenced by the teenage girl, the fierce protectiveness never but once displayed by the boys' father.

It's not perfect: the father and mother are not realized as completely as I would have liked. Neither is the teenage girl-- all that potential misery, and you don't see 1/10 of what you would expect. Granted, all his characters are far more calm and/or laid back than you or me, so misery may not be in the foreground. It's almost like a lesson in how not to freak out over bad circumstances. When his characters do lose it, how he writes lessens its impact, somehow.

McCann, Colum (Let the Great World Spin)

2010-05-25T16:13:00.002-04:00

I have little to zero strong feelings about this book. Perhaps it's because I knew that at least part of the story would be about Philippe Petit, the tightrope walker who walked between the WTC towers, and the movie about him (Man on Wire) left me underwhelmed. (Not from any lack of wonder about his feat, but the filmmaking itself was somewhat odd.) It's no secret that it can be difficult to divorce how you feel about a subject in one medium from another medium.

But, I don't think that's the entire reason why. Even with walking into it without any positive expectations, the longer I went in it, the less I cared about any of the characters or how McCann was weaving their stories one into the other. I'll admit to feeling somewhat manipulated, especially by the end story, and irritated by the overabundance of descriptive text (do we need a description of the sky in 40 different ways one right after the other? can't you just stick to one?), but in the end, it just felt like I was picking up the book only to get to the end so me and my book club buddies could discuss it. Not a great reason to keep on going.

Surprisingly, the bits I enjoyed the most were the fictionalized accounts of Petit's endeavors-- what it took to get the wire straight and without snags, how he almost died in a snowdrift, the feel of the wire under his feet. Perhaps McCann should try historical fiction, maybe that would ring truer?

King, Laurie R. (The God of the Hive)

2010-05-07T15:19:00.001-04:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

I'm always thrilled to see a new Laurie R. King. Here are the reasons I was not all that excited this time around.

1) One of the joys of reading her books is her interest in theological concepts. Where else-- in the world-- are you going to get religious concepts mixed up with mystery? (And if you say Dan Brown, I'll smack you.)
2) I didn't read the previous book, and that is clearly an oversight. Not that you had to know what happened, she introduces that nicely, but it sorta feels like she left all her best ideas in the previous book.
3) She doesn't put Holmes and Russell together until 4/5 of the way into the book. One of the joys of these books is how these characters interact, each learning (albeit stubbornly) from the other. When they can't play off each other-- and since they rely on no one else, all you get is their thought processes-- it's a bit dull.
4) Furthermore, they act especially grumpy towards each other, with Mycroft getting in the mix there. In the end, it's hard to tell if they're all still pleased to be a family or not. I don't need my books to be wrapped in a bow, but this is fundamental to this series...

See, Lisa (Shanghai Girls)

2010-04-23T22:22:00.006-04:00

I'm pleased that this book seems to be telling it like it is, i.e., the gory details of wartime Shanghai as the Japanese are invading. Better than some other tales from that time (i.e., The Distant Land of My Father) that tend to gloss over the horror of war and the indescribable ambiance and character of 1930s Shanghai. So for that, I am grateful.

Still, in many ways this book felt like a list to me. Everything that could possibly happen to these sisters, and their entire family, did, down to the burning (twice) of L.A.'s original Chinatown. To me it seemed as if See was cataloging all the interviews she had conducted (and she talks about those in the author's note at the end), and stuffing them in sideways and sometimes backwards.

It's not that I didn't feel the girls' plight because See is not a bad writer, but I actually stopped halfway through to finish another book and felt not all that interested in returning to the story. It just wasn't compelling, or at least not to me.

The most fascinating aspect was the concept of the Chinese beautiful girl, and there I learned quite a bit. It's also clear that See expects to be writing a sequel that would have the potential to say more about this art form. You could find me signing up for more, if that happens.

Turner, Megan Whalen (A Conspiracy of Kings)

2010-04-14T15:32:00.003-04:00

Somehow this one seemed shorter than the rest. Like, bigger print and smaller pages. Hopefully, I'm just imagining it and I simply sucked it in all at once without noticing its length.

After all-Gen-all-the-time in the last 3 books, it was dispiriting to have him only for a short while in this one. Yes, he still gets all the good lines so he's worth it for however long Turner wants him there, but more Gen in the next one, darn it!

Did anyone else find it a little unrealistic that Sophos becomes kingly so quickly? Someone who hides and bemoans his fate for most of his life doesn't just magically become an excellent speaker, an efficient tactician and a skilled persuader. So that bolsters my argument that it WAS too short a book...

I think there are only 2 fables told, so at least she learned her lesson there. And, while I thought the final chapters were great fun, I also thought the plotting was rather obvious from the point at which the gift from Attolia/s is revealed through to the end.

Helprin, Mark (Freddy and Fredericka)

2010-04-06T16:05:00.002-04:00

After the joy of listening to the Harry Potter audiobooks, I needed something new and asked the tweet-world what I should read next. This was the sole recommendation. (Really? Do you all just not listen to audiobooks or have you all been disappointed by everything you've listened to lately?)

This is odd. A more appropriate word doesn't exist. It's a fictionalized tale of Princess Diana and Prince Charles, replete with parachute jumping, speed-reading dentistry texts, the inner workings of a bike gang, and falcons. If you have a better word for this, let me know, I'd love to hear it.

It is often very funny, but in a sad, sorry sort of way. The humor is meant to describe and explain the most ridiculous facets of both British and American life, but American society gets the greater share. Fortunately, this is interspersed with gorgeous descriptive passages about our continent's natural beauty, to take the edge off.

I just couldn't figure out what to take away from it: societies can learn from each other? we're all teetering on the edge of rapid decline? we should pity royalty and assume they're all very smart? I could use some help here.

Grafton, Sue (U is for Undertow)

2010-03-29T10:58:00.003-04:00

For the first time, I'm not connecting Grafton's title with the subject of the mystery she's written. Yes, the title is explained (and particularly, it's explained how this is not the correct word to use for a riptide effect), but even in a metaphorical sense it doesn't work. For me, I think that's the case because "undertow" could describe the characters in every single one of her mysteries. They are all sucked in and floundering and panicky.

I really do think Grafton is ramping things up for her last 8 or so novels (she has 6 to go), though. The writing is both taut and descriptive and entertaining, and she got to have a lot of fun this time describing how hippies can not be a barrel of laughs, plus how hard it is to be a writer. For the latter, she creates a character learning to write as a teenager and becoming a hugely successful mystery writer 25 years later. Cute, but the only problem with this is that this kid has a deep dark secret, which I can just imagine the press trying to get to the bottom of. "Ms. Grafton, does this mean YOU have a deep dark secret you'd like to share with us?"

There is one place the story falls down-- at the end, and this is where Grafton can sometimes fail us. She spends quite a bit of time with a hapless yet likeable young man, getting us to feel sorry for him, and then never revisits the ramifications of his life and his family at the end. I needed that, didn't you?

Zusak, Markus (The Book Thief)

2010-03-08T18:53:00.004-05:00

The New York Times reviewed this with the following phrase: "the kind of book that can be life changing." That got my dander up. Really? You're going to tell me up front that this book is so good I can't help but have it affect me? What if I don't like it as much as you? Am I then, somehow, defective? Thanks, NYT.

I was untrusting, I'll admit it. While I may not have found the book life changing, it may very well be that for teen readers. The book's magic is in how it slowly reveals aspects of German life across the board in the 1940s. We learn not only what it is like to have been a Jew during that time, but a communist, a child, a rich person, a poor person, a soldier, etc. I can't imagine a more gentle entrée into such a horrifying world.

My minor quibbles were two: At times I was irritated by the author's deliberate fore-shadowing. It *does* work, but instead of it easing you into knowledge that will be coming pages later, it arrives like a bolt out of the blue and causes a literal gasp to escape. I'm not convinced that this was his original or true reason for doing this. The other quibble is the last line, which I cannot reveal, but which, if you've seen all of Robert Redford's movies, will bother you as much as it did me.

Dong Hwa Kim (The Color of Earth Trilogy)

2010-02-23T09:02:00.003-05:00

As I've said before, I don't often review the graphic novels or comic strips that I read. This one, however, was for book club, so I feel a bit obliged.

Having a bit of knowledge on the history of manga graphic novels, or at the least a vague understanding of where they started and how they've spread, this particular selection was, um, different. I know there are all types: samurai-based, tween love, erotic, heck there's even one based on the life of Buddha (and it's fantastic). I know Japan is the motherland, but that the style has branched into other Asian countries and definitely to our country.

What you expect in the first few pages-- another tween love tale, but told traditionally-- becomes surprisingly explicit. The drawings themselves are not, but the dialogue frankly discusses the sexual awareness of a young Korean girl living with her mother in a tiny town long ago. This part feels very real. This also, however, showcases a connection between mother and daughter that does not feel real.

The agenda of the book is the future of this girl: slated for marriage, hopefully to a nice man, bound to live with her in-laws for the rest of her life. Honestly? I can't relate. And the falling-head-over-heels-for-any-guy-who-looks-at-her, which might feel right for a young girl, doesn't sit right in conjunction with the mother who blatantly encourages this behavior. Wouldn't a considered opinion work better for everyone? Even in that day and age, I would have thought this would be of considerable importance.

The art itself is stellar, especially the sweeping countryside panels. Unfortunately, the story stuck in my throat.

Turner, Megan Whalen (The King of Attolia)

2010-02-22T18:43:00.004-05:00

Well, blow me over. I did not think it was possible for Turner to top herself after the second book in the series, but I love being proven wrong.

Things she did oh so very right:

1) Only one meandering story of old, and it's not a real one (okay, none of this is *real*, but you'll know what I mean). Plus, it has a real anchor in the story.
2) She grows Gen. While he's still the same pouty, obnoxious, indelibly flawed Eugenides of the previous novels, she makes him politically astute and even more charming than before. Gen is a tough character to round out, and yet she once again molds him into something we have not yet seen.
3) Within 10 pages, you realize that Gen is not the central figure. Instead, it's this guy Costis, and why should we care about him? We should care because moving the narrative to a minor character affords Turner a huge degree of freedom in telling this tale. And, Costis himself? He's absolutely worth the notice.
4) While this was made obvious in the other books, it's clearer here: you must, imperatively must, read between the lines. She's not going to coddle you, and if you don't get her offhand comment on page 27, you're going to miss its impact on page 207.

Horrified I am that no public library in Ann Arbor or nearby has ordered a copy of her next book, due out March 23. I'm pretty sure I can't wait too long to learn what shenanigans our dear Eugenides manages to get himself into.

Thompson, Shawn (The Intimate Ape: Orangutans and the Secret Life of a Vanishing Species)

2010-02-17T11:03:00.002-05:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

A guest review today, so it won't count towards my book challenge. (Darn.)

My assessment after two chapters didn't change upon finishing the book: the authorial voice chosen irritated me. When writing about his own experiences, he's a bad Hemingway, wearing his self-righteousness and obvious sense of moral superiority-- see the last chapter on the non-question of whether he or any of the researchers he met would eat orangutan meat-- on his sleeve. He feels things very deeply, thinks of them with too much overt sentimentality, and expresses it all poorly. When writing about others, his indignation at humanity is just as high, but expressed more carefully, if not consistently. Overall, this felt like a string of unconnected essays, a feeling confirmed when he talks about having been a journalist who had to re-learn how to write for the book (back to class, then!). For example, I noted multiple variations on the sentence "My 13 year old son Pearce, who is my son and is 13 and whose name is Pearce." It wasn't that bad, but if you check the index you'll be surprised at the absence of "my son" and "13" from the list of entries. Overall, some good material squandered by a too intense focus on the author's feelings.

Turner, Megan Whalen (The Queen of Attolia)

2010-02-10T11:33:00.005-05:00

Wow, so much better than the first book. There is a major plot change about 25 pages in, one designed to make you gasp, since it changes EVERYTHING. By the time you get to the end of the book, this also shows Turner's deftness as a writer. She is able to radically change your thinking with regards to one major character, and that is no small feat, I don't care what kind of book you're writing.

There is also no way you can do something on that level and not make some holes. Case in point: Eugenides' emotions and facial expressions run the gamut towards the end of the book, in particular in how he interacts with Attolia (and to some extent Eddis). This feels false. The book would have been better without some of these rapid changes.

My problems with the first book (mostly its slowness) still exist, but less so. While oodles of time are still spent on political intrigue and geographical features of the 3 countries, it feels like it fits better. I'd guess this is due to the fact that we finally meet and learn about the people directly involved in these machinations.

My friend's pre-teen daughter has read all these, and I am wistful. It is beyond clear to me at this point in my life that complex adventure and/or mythology stories are much harder for me to parse than when I was a kid. I adored The Silmarillion then, which I tried picking up again last year: nearly choked within the first 10 pages. I guess I was smarter as well as more patient then.

Turner, Megan Whalen (The Thief)

2010-02-01T11:31:00.005-05:00

Be warned: when a friend recommends a book, I will read it. And I'll be honest about what I thought. (Sorry, friend!)

I definitely like series that are aimed for teen/young adult, but don't talk down so much that they're unpalatable for the adult community. This one does an excellent job of that. Our hero is flawed: recalcitrant, mysterious, annoying. Most kids books try to make heroes more than perfect, which is extraordinarily irritating. Why can't they be more like you and me?

However, the biggest problem with the book is that it. takes. forever. to. get. to. the. point. This hero of ours is supposed to be brilliant at thieving. So, can we please let him do some of that before we're more than halfway through the book? There are long, dull travel passages, lengthy stories about old gods, and lectures on geology and politics. Blurgh. How are the kids standing it? I kept zoning out every page or so.

This friend of mine was wise to tell me in advance that the first book is decent, but that the next two in the trilogy are far superior. Whew-- I'll go take those out of the library right away.

Barlow, Toby (Sharp Teeth)

2010-01-21T14:41:00.004-05:00

I cannot begin to tell you the amount of kicking and screaming that ensued for an entire year as my husband tried to get me to read this book. No, says I, I will not read a book that's written in verse. It's not in verse, try the first page, he says about forty-umpteen times. You'll like it, I promise, he says another forty-umpteen times.

So now he gets to say "I told you so" since I did end up getting past that first page and enjoying the story. It is not difficult to read, in fact it goes very quickly written the way it is. The verse is not in any sense poetry. It is prose, just written in short lines instead of long ones. Although he does get to do cool things with indenting that provide an emphasis he couldn't easily get in regular prose.

Probably not a book for everyone. It was obvious I would like it because tales about otherwordly creatures are fascinating to me. There are so many ways you can frame the problems with our culture and society inside of a fantasy-- heck, that's why I read fantasy. It's reality turned on its head. However, there are some fairly horrific bits, stomach-turning in fact. Me, hard and embittered as I am, didn't have a great deal of difficulty with this. If you have a softer inside (for which I envy you), beware.

It's a bit confusing at times, keeping all the characters straight. There is a cast of characters at the back of the book, which I only discovered once I'd finished. This will help if it's in your copy. In particular, it'll help you keep the werewolf packs straight. Yup, that's right-- werewolves.

McCullough, David (John Adams)

2010-01-20T14:12:00.009-05:00

At 651 pages, plus notes, references, reading group guide and interview with the author, there was no way I was going to read this book on my own. Thank heavens for book club and deadlines. I feel as if I ate and slept Mr. John Adams-- and it was a great meal and a restful sleep.

A Pulitzer prize-winning biography should be descriptive, factually correct, entertaining, illuminating and, as often as possible, surprising. (I just made up those criteria, you can make up your own.) Boy, does this one have all those in spades. My favorite parts...

Descriptive: The love affair between John and Abigail was stupendous in its quantity and quality. McCullough gives you more than a flavor for it and leaves you wanting more.
Factually correct: This one, of them all, I have to take on faith. Still, if I were an author and I listed 100 pages of notes and references, I think I'm saying "c'mon, try me, I dare ya."
Entertaining: Time! When Adams was overseas and asking to be discharged from his role as plenipotentiary to France (or the Netherlands or England), it took months and months and months for him to learn what Congress thought of that idea. Not to get an answer! Just to know if they were listening. I am counting my blessings this very second.
Illuminating: Party politics suck. Not that we're not well aware of that in this day and age, but from the moment Washington took office and while fledgling America was warding off both Britain and France, we took time to play the "I'm right, you're wrong, because you're a Federalist/Republican" game.
Surprising: Jefferson, Franklin and Hamilton were douches (in the words of one of my book club members)! Adams' bedrock character was far and away the one I personally want to emulate. The other three are pathetic.

As if you can't tell, I think this is one of the best non-fiction books I've read. You will too.

Sawyer, Robert J. (Flashforward)

2009-12-07T15:04:00.001-05:00

Forget the book, watch the series.

Sawyer is not that good a writer, but his ideas are phenomenal. There's a lot of stumbling around in the book-- mostly via descriptions of the physics that take pages, and descriptions of the characters that don't advance the plot or make us care for the characters any longer or any more than we do.

I was particularly confused by the ending. I'll admit that the physics has to be explained, and that Sawyer does not do a bad job of making it clear what the issue/solution is, but making something compelling and clarifying something are two wholly different approaches. In the ending, however, he makes a point about human consciousness and its existence negating the possibility of consciousness elsewhere in the universe-- and boom, he'd lost me. Seems like an important point, and in conjunction with the setting for the ending, really important to get it just right.

The idea for the novel, however, is what sets it apart-- everyone has a flash forward at the same time and of the same time in the future. How does that affect the world? How does the world respond? How does it affect our thinking about the future? As I said, the series is doing a far better job (we'll see how season 1 ends). Do yourself a favor and skip the reading part.

Grossman, Lev (Codex)

2009-11-30T14:37:00.004-05:00

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.

Petterson, Per (Out Stealing Horses)

2009-11-16T14:43:00.003-05:00

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.

Simonson, Helen (Major Pettigrew's Last Stand)

2009-11-16T09:51:00.003-05:00

[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.

Anderson, Laurie Halse (Wintergirls)

2009-09-05T21:42:00.002-04:00

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.

Holland, Julie (Weekends at Bellevue)

2009-09-01T20:23:00.004-04:00

[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?

Grafton, Sue (T is for Trespass)

2009-08-10T15:22:00.005-04:00

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?)

Bujold, Lois McMaster (Paladin of Souls)

2009-08-04T10:42:00.006-04:00

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?

Kington, Miles (How Shall I Tell the Dog?)

2009-07-24T16:58:00.005-04:00

[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.

Bechdel, Alison (The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For)

2009-07-17T16:49:00.005-04:00

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?

Larsson, Stieg (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo)

2009-07-09T16:01:00.003-04:00

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.

Bujold, Lois McMaster (Shards of Honor)

2009-06-30T16:09:00.003-04:00

Why is it that I had to resort to ILL from my public library to get this highly-lauded first novel from a respected sci-fi author? For shame, for shame. All copies must have been stolen by eager fans.

I've read one other book by Bujold: The Curse of Chalion, and did not have the same problems with her pushy feminist approach in this novel. A female starship captain may not have been commonplace in this universe, but even her enemy scoffing that women could even be considered for rank in the army didn't bother me. Bujold made this fit without creating way too obvious a place for it.

Our female captain has her own set of balls, of course, falls in love with the only man who would do for her, and both of them are so full of honor and loyalty as to make you gag in sections. The intelligent writing, scenic descriptions, and complex characterizations more than make up for any failure there.

I was enamored enough that I plan on reading more of her Vorkosigan saga. Even though there will be no appearances of any of the characters from this novel. The universe itself is drawn so deftly, I'm sure not to miss them.

Thurber, James (My Life and Hard Times)

2009-06-17T16:26:00.005-04:00

I'm not sure I agree that Thurber has been our best (American) humor writer, or our best short story writer. What about Raymond Carver? Doesn't Jon Stewart count?

Certainly, I find his writing humorous, but I also find it a bit monotonous. In this semi-autobiography, I tired easily of the bumblings in the dark. There were far, far too many of these stories. The electric car piece is hands-down the best of them all, but I feel he never achieves that level again in the "collection." His cartoons are consistently amusing, and since he started as a humorist in that arena, I wish he had further developed that.

However, it looks like I ought to try his short stories instead. Since it is mentioned in the short biography at the back of this book, I sought out "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" and nearly died laughing. "Pocketa-queep"-- oh, my stars.

It could be that it's just too tough to write about your own life, and easier to make up someone else's. It sounds like his life was indeed difficult, at least towards the end (he went blind). While laughter is the best tonic, it felt to me as if he was either making up the humor in his strange family's turmoils or deliberately over-exaggerating it to allay the pain.

Leon, Donna (The Girl of His Dreams)

2009-06-16T14:58:00.002-04:00

If you read back through my posts, you'll see me waxing rhapsodic on Donna Leon's novels. I'm not going to repeat myself here. Instead, I'll say, sadly, that I think Leon peaked in "Suffer the Little Children" and "Through a Glass, Darkly". Both of these offered deft social criticism as well as an entrancing mystery. This novel tries to do the same but feels tired, as if she's saying "oh, have I not written about the Rom before, ok, let me get that out of the way."

It's certainly a depressing subject, and as per Leon, she tries to provide all sides of the issue-- not making them heroes and not making them villains, which I admire. I know it's difficult for some folks to read about, so I'll point out that this novel revolves around the death of a child, in somewhat graphic detail. Not the death per se, but the aftermath, which is nearly as bad.

So, if you haven't read the two I recommend above, I'd pass this one up for those. The themes remain the same: food, family, honor and loyalty, and, Commissario Brunetti reading classical literature. Always a hoot.

Gruen, Sara (Water for Elephants)

2009-06-08T11:16:00.002-04:00

One friend said she hated this book. One said she loved it (and others said they liked it a lot). Obviously a must read.

I can see both sides. I loved the book for its readability-- it drags you along with it, whereever it seems to be going. Vet student, hops a train, becomes part of a circus, falls in love, interacts with crazy folks, and more! This life is interspersed with the vet as a much older man, which becomes wonderfully relevant at the end.

But I also disliked it (didn't hate it at all) because Gruen is working so hard to shock you on every page. Yes, I know that goes with the territory of a breakneck plot, but for certain scenes it feels extra-special gratuitous. I recognize the work involved in giving the reader something new and exciting on each page, while also tying it into a complex plot, however a little less craziness would have been welcome at times. (Although, I suppose that is the circus for you.)

The culmination of the novel has two twists. The first I thought was obvious (reread that dedication) while the second made me smile hugely. It's what you were hoping for, and Gruen is kind enough to give it to you.

Anderson, Laurie Halse (Speak)

2009-06-03T13:27:00.005-04:00

On my continuing foray into the realm of YA, I was given this book to read. In fact, although the recommendation goes against everything in me as a librarian and pro-book advocate, this is the kind of book that should be passed around. From friend to friend, from mother to daughter and especially from father to son. This novel is an absolute must for every teen to read.

It's possible not everyone will see what's coming, so I don't want to give away anything. It's just as powerful knowing as not knowing. In fact, it's one of the very few books that I read portions of aloud to my husband, mostly because they were amusing but also because they evoke without bitterness the atmosphere of high school.

Don't get me wrong-- this is a tragic tale. But, Anderson has found a way to deftly merge a story that should cause every heart to weep with a general reminiscence of teenage years alternately funny and horrifying. It's simply illuminating, there's no better word for it.

So I think it's best not to reveal any plot at all. Believe the cover, as schmaltzy as it sounds. This actually is a contemporary classic.

Shreve, Anita (A Wedding in December)

2009-05-22T13:24:00.008-04:00

This publisher's marketing department is grasping at straws. From the back cover: "The reader may be surprised at how quickly the pages turn." Um, that's certainly a phrase that can be construed in multiple ways, negatively being one of them.

But that's Shreve for you. Her novels are designed to move along, to not incur deep thoughts, and to leave you wondering if you just read chicklit or something more erudite. Because if you look for subtext, it is there, it's just "lighter" subtext than what you would expect in literature.

For instance, the story within a story is written to suggest the power of changing the tale you are writing in whatever way you choose, while the novel's narrative hints at the possibilities of doing this in real life. It's a good setting for a tale of a December wedding (gawd, who let that title through, could it be more boring?) between high-school sweethearts who have lived full lives and then re-met each other at a reunion, plus how all their high-school friends have lived or wish to live their lives. But her writing is just too simplistic to firmly frame the subtext.

I wish Shreve would try her hand at a different genre. Wouldn't it be fascinating to see how she'd handle, say, YA or sci-fi?

Coetzee, J.M. (Disgrace)

2009-05-19T11:41:00.003-04:00

I am absolutely, positively sure that I do not get all the deep meaning in this Booker Prize winning book from a Nobel laureate. I'm often stymied by the highly lauded material.

It's an odd one, this book. I think Coetzee is trying to unravel the tangled web that is South Africa and its race relations, but I have trouble understanding how the romantic dalliances of the protagonist apply to that. And, as a woman, it's difficult to read scenes of what I consider date rape with no acknowledgment of this from the writer throughout the course of the book. I understand the need to create a character who is complete and, while he does experience personal growth, does not embrace a way of thinking that is alien to him. Nonetheless... it is difficult to read and not shudder thinking about the readers who are young men and might think this is an okay way to live one's life.

But I suppose this is the strength of the novel. It never falls back on cliche. Each character is someone I've never met before in fiction, whether it is Professor Lurie, his daughter, Petrus the "caretaker", even the pet shelter owner. They are beautifully crafted, leading us, with Lurie, into the disgrace of the title. Ultimately, it was difficult for me to see how Lurie could continue on having suffered so much. But... he also performed his own brand of creating suffering in others. Are we meant to understand this as a life balance? As kismet?

I am able to glean some deeper meanings from the novel, but am particularly looking forward to book club this month because I am certain that my compatriots will have alternate and deeper insights. And I'm sure I don't want to have missed them.

Zielin, Lara (Donut Days)

2009-05-18T15:57:00.002-04:00

Reviewing a friend's book is triply difficult: you don't want to offend, you want to get the word out, and you are nervous about your review being written adequately. That being said, I'm going to go for it.

Because in this case, it's really easy. I loved this YA novel, hands-down. It comes out on August 9, and I urge each and every one of you to buy it. Why, you say? First, a bit about present-day YA as I see it...

I'll admit to having read only a handful of current YA, all of them chosen by pals who thought I would like the new voice of young adult fiction. Why, oh why, could we not have had voices like this when I was still reading Judy Blume books? OK, Blume wrote in the 70s, what feels like one of the more emotionally-closed-off decades to grow up in. Perhaps that's why these books pop out at me so much.

In the case of Donut Days, the setting, issues, concept and plot all seem so fresh and new, and yet so grounded in today's world. Besides being a structure that works handsomely in this genre, Lara has chosen a setting that could have been impossible to deliver to any generation: the evangelist culture and how faith and its trappings can wreak havoc on the young. But... not in a manner that completely disses this culture, another impossible to have pulled off.

So, please, once you've read it, comment on this blog. I'd love to hear what you thought.

Black, Benjamin (The Silver Swan)

2009-05-18T15:38:00.006-04:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

This is the problem when you put your book reviewing off and all of a sudden you have three, almost four, books to review in a row. Let's see... I picked this book on LibraryThing Early Reviewers because it was a foreign-published book originally and I've had more luck with those lately. That said, it was not in the same league as the latest one I chose that way.

I'm sorta phasing out on murder mysteries, unless they're absolute classics or I adore the writing. Reason being, it's just not that hard to figure out whodunnit. I mean, the author usually has a limited cast of characters and one of those has to be the one who did the deed or else how would the story work?

Maybe I'm "eh" on this book because it's set in such a depressing place and time. Actually, speaking of time, I had the darndest time figuring out whether this was set in the present or sometime around WWII. Descriptions of clothing, transportation, pubs-- it was confusing, and I don't think it was just me being a dolt.

So, it's nothing awful, but it's just not particularly exciting. Certainly not what the reviewer on the cover is frothing about.

Díaz, Junot (The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao)

2009-04-21T15:09:00.002-04:00

There's just too much to say about this book. In actual fact, there's too much to complain about with this book.

I'll start with the thing that irritated me the most: Mr. Díaz, if you are interested in writing a book that will stand the test of time, do not, repeat, do not include multiple references to non-mainstream pop culture. Do you really think that the majority of your readers know who Luba is and how big her boobs were? Does The Watcher matter to anyone other than those who know who drew the first Spiderman comic book (yes, I know)? And while I enjoyed the references to the Lord of the Rings trilogy, check out page 200 in the hardcover first edition and see if you recognize it. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Second, all the untranslated Spanish? Yes, I know that one argument for this would be that this country might do well to become bi-lingual. But. I am well-versed in Latin-based languages and I had a hard time. What about those who aren't? Especially when obviously crucial pieces of information are not given an English equivalent.

Third, okay I get it about Trujillo. Enough. Please stop repeating it.

Fourth, that introduction that made absolutely no sense because we hadn't even started the book yet? Dude, make it a postscript.

The plot itself was not awful-- poor doomed family from the Dominican Republic, why their lives were a mess and how they tried to escape them. In that respect, he's a decent writer. But I refuse to discuss the plot here. I'm still too mad about his structure.

Brust, Steven (My Own Kind of Freedom)

2009-04-07T10:24:00.006-04:00

I've never read fan fiction before. I consider it hyperventilation from nerds who can't write and should be getting back to their coding RSN. (This coming from a nerd herself.) But Brust is an actual sci-fi author, albeit a bit strange (his Wikipedia picture needs no words) and prone to creating novels set in other authors' universes.

Perhaps because he was writing fan fiction, he released this novel under a Creative Commons license allowing users to download, share and read the novel without purchasing it. Normally, I would have assumed it was crap, but because it was Brust and because I'm a monstrous fan of the doomed Firefly series, I had to give it a go.

Not bad. Brust did his homework-- the characters all speak and act as they would have in the television show, which is no mean feat. Each character had subtleties that I would have been hard pressed to describe in text, and Brust pulls that off. As well, he creates a tale that fits in the Firefly timeline and is akin to the stories we saw on TV. With some nice little bon mots thrown in (especially River's).

Problem is, it's really bloody obvious what's going to happen in the end. Why is Mal staying on the planet? Well, duh, any brain-dead reader can tell that from what Brust laid out early in the novel. Sigh. I know it's really hard to create mysteries, and that sci-fi mysteries are the hardest of them all. Which is why we should honor those who can and Whedon above them all.

Le Guin, Ursula K. (The Left Hand of Darkness)

2009-03-30T15:57:00.006-04:00

I found it fascinating to re-read this for book club, probably twenty years after I read it the first time.

I suggested the book because I find it appalling that more people-- and by people I mean women-- don't read good science fiction. Why is this genre ignored and other genres are not? Women devour mysteries and romance, and yet good science fiction has all the elements of fantasy that these others do. I would suspect that it is because of the hard sci-fi aspect of most examples of the genre: endless noodling about the Fardles' new gamma ray thruster and how it works, with no regard to how that fits into an actual story.

Le Guin is a rare example of all that works. First, she's a girl. Second, she can write. Third, she's smart as hell but doesn't noodle.

I had forgotten how erudite she actually is and she can sound far too academic for her fantasy audience. It's understandable-- the world of Gethen with its ambisexual/bi-sexual beings is so alien to us in terms of basic functioning, much less culture, that she needs to warm us up to the idea of it first. But by the time she has reunited her main characters-- Genly and Therem-- and even though her setting is a seemingly endless trek across a glacier, the pace feels far quicker.

The subtle discussions into feminism, sexual identity, communication and political science are left as an exercise for the reader.

Scalzi, John (The Last Colony)

2009-03-26T13:16:00.005-04:00

I do enjoy it when the last book of a trilogy turns out to be just as good as the first book. Middle books, eh. They can be long-winded or slightly boring or off-topic or without purpose. I mean, think about "The Two Towers." All that riding around Rohan and trekking through the woods with Ents. Snore-o-rama. And then, blam! The last book nails it.

It'd be silly to equate this trilogy with Tolkein's, but my point is the same. Scalzi returns to the first character he created, John Perry, brings along his now-wife, Jane, and the adopted daughter, Zoe. Plants them in a strange setting and puts the fate of the world on Perry's shoulders. Many plot twists later, and you have an excellent set-up for the end of the book.

Plus, he adds a wise-cracking secretary who makes you hoot with laughter. He should be a humor writer, really, this stuff doesn't just roll off the keyboard. Although, amusingly, this character makes it clear that he does write a (very well-read) blog on the side (http://whatever.scalzi.com/). Because writing a blog is all about the clever.

Krueger, William Kent (Boundary Waters)

2009-03-26T12:56:00.003-04:00

My mom gave us this book and said it was "pretty good, I liked it." I'm always wary of a half-hearted recommendation because I'm so picky in terms of decent writing. Sure, it's a mystery and it'll follow a general structure, but it's the little things that make a mystery worthwhile and if it didn't have that, I'd feel betrayed somehow.

I suspect that what kept me going through this book was the setting. Both in terms of it being set in an Indian reservation and much of the book being a (slow) chase through the wilderness of northern Minnesota. That's different and intriguing. And he's not a bad writer. He knows how to add details about characters and their lives in the appropriate spots and not make it look forced. That's not easy.

Unfortunately, the ending is obvious, although there's not much he could have done about that. But the reason why the woman they are trying to find in the wilderness went there, and what she plans to do when she gets out, rings false for a whole host of reasons. None of which I can divulge, but see if you think that it doesn't seem to jive with what you've learned about Cork O'Connor's town and how the community lives.

Sjöwall, Maj and Wahlöö, Per (The Laughing Policeman)

2009-03-01T14:24:00.002-05:00

I guess long ago they didn't call these mystery novels or crime stories, they called them police procedurals. Or at least they did for stories like those written by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö, set in Stockholm and starring Martin Beck, police detective.

For some people, their stories may seem plodding because they detail the work performed by the police while solving the crime. Every bit of detail. But if you read closely, you find humor, different and engaging personalities and above all, their description of how the world has been changing. I like how Sjöwall put it, that their intent was to "use the crime novel as a scalpel cutting open the belly of the ideologically pauperized and morally debatable so-called welfare state of the bourgeois type." A chance to describe their feelings about Sweden, or any major socialized society for that matter.

This is my third of their decalogue, and I'm not reading them in order. I'm also not terribly worried about that, for while the personalities age and change, each story stands on its own. I think their first, Roseanna, is still my favorite but this one grabs you from the get-go and doesn't let off until the final line. As with all their novels, the last line is well worth reaching.

Scalzi, John (The Ghost Brigades)

2009-02-21T17:23:00.002-05:00

Hmm, I didn't like this as much. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it felt like there was more exposition on dense scientific subjects, not interspersed enough with conversation and action. But if I look back, there was almost the same amount of that in Old Man's War.

I'm guessing the newness of the created universe made the first book in the trilogy a revelation. In the second, you know the universe, and you're just irritated that he has moved on to other characters, and concentrated on the Special Forces soldiers to boot. Yes, I'm probably the only person ever to read this book that was not as interested in the Special Forces as in the regular CDF soldier. But, really, they're a lot more freaky. At least I can identify with someone who was real-born to begin with.

Not by any stretch is this a bad book. Just overwritten in places, and a bit dull in others. Naturally, I'm going to go ahead and read the third book, since his style is pleasing and more than gets the job done. Onwards.

Scalzi, John (Old Man's War)

2009-02-10T15:11:00.002-05:00

My friend Jane gave me the first two books in this trilogy, promising good space opera without the complacent misogyny of a dyed-in-the-wool 1950s sci-fi writer.

It is precisely so: a ripping good yarn with a "hey, we're mere mortals but we CAN save the world" theme that you would expect from a Heinlein book. But without the female characters consistently in the rearview mirror, and called "sweetie" and "honey" and "where are my slippers?" to boot.

In fact, this didn't hit home to me until John Perry, our protagonist, learns about the death of one of his space-army buddies. She dies a gruesome Army death, and does her best to the last to kill as many nasty aliens on her way out. That she's female? Not even a factor. It's like a gust of fresh air when you realize that fact.

The basic plot: Perry joins the military at 75 thinking the Colonial Defense Forces have a good thing going if they want the old brain and the old body as well. How will they modify him? How long will he need to serve? What will the aliens look like, and how will they fight?

Read and find out. I'm on the next one already, "The Ghost Brigades," and will be sad when I finish the final one, "The Last Colony."

Ephron, Hallie (Never Tell a Lie)

2009-02-01T16:44:00.003-05:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

This is the first mystery by a woman famous for having written the bible on how to write mysteries (Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel)? Huh, I guess practicing what you preach is a lot harder than it sounds.

I've never seen so many telegraphed clues in one book; I think I spotted at least 6. Anyone who's read at least a dozen mysteries will be able to spot them all as well, I guarantee it. This means that by page 25 I knew the outcome of the book. I even bet my husband a thousand dollars that I'd be right (which he cleverly didn't take since I was bemoaning clues and plot as I read).

It's not that the writing is terrible. In fact, it's good-- I would be surprised if it weren't, seeing as Ephron is a professor of creative writing. Her post-crisis ending is particularly inspired. But it seems to me that clever writing is a different talent from clever plot direction. While you are enjoying the story of Ivy and her too-good-to-be-true husband about to have their first baby and what unfolds around their seemingly perfect life, you just wish it were over because you already know what will transpire. Or maybe for some, that lets everything off the hook and you can just sit back and relax?

Dessen, Sarah (This Lullaby)

2009-01-30T17:09:00.006-05:00

I honestly think that adults are not supposed to read YA. I don't mean that in a bad way-- it's really fun to read young adult literature. It's just that it's often quite obvious what the author is up to.

This book is a case in point: her first 50 pages are setting the scene as any novelist would do. But Dessen goes the extra mile to make it clear to the reader what kind of high schooler the protagonist is, i.e., her modus operandi regarding guys, what clique she fits into, her personality quirks, why love is something she doesn't understand. Mature fiction (for want of a better word) will often completely skip such banalities, assuming you're going to get it on your own or that figuring that out is integral to understanding the book.

Remy is a hard-bitten, thick-skinned, not altogether nice girl on her way to Stanford, with one more summer to have flings before she does. It's a bit difficult to get past the "not nice" part, even if that girl reminds you of someone you knew during that stage of life (*cough*). Yes, it's realistic, but maybe a bit too far in one direction?

Still, I really like Dessen's writing-- it's breezy and entertaining and forthright and hey, she even does meta themes (Mom's books vs. Remy's life). I've heard her others are quite good, so they go on the list.

Ford, Jamie (Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet)

2009-01-25T22:05:00.004-05:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

For a first novel, this is a good effort. By no stretch, a great effort, as it pretty much follows the mold for every love-lost-then-regained book I've ever read. But its setting makes it worth the read-- Seattle in 1942 just after Pearl Harbor and as the Japanese internment camps were being built.

It's clear that Jamie Ford is writing from experience, that of himself, his father and his grandfather. The many descriptions of life for Henry as a Chinese-American boy, the environs of the International District in Seattle, and the early jazz recordings of the time give the book a flavor that keeps it from being wholly trite.

I'll confess to heartily enjoying the ending, no matter how obvious it was. Even though the adult Henry was never fully realized (why did he really keep so much from his son? and does their interaction actually change or just feel forced?), I still felt empathy for the character and his plight.

Don't run out and buy the book, but if you're looking for something light and entertaining, this might be an excellent choice.

Roberts, Gregory David (Shantaram)

2009-01-16T14:13:00.010-05:00

This book is for anyone who hates to have books end, who hates that they won't be able to interact with the characters any longer. Because it is one long, epic, many-faceted tale, taking you on this man's journey through Mumbai (Bombay) as a criminal, a slum-liver, a healer, a Bollywood insider, an expat, and a prisoner.

I actually am the type of person who reacts to lengthy books with a groan of despair that makes it hard to crack the spine to begin with. But there was so much variety in Shantaram that I never got tired of the tales told. If there is a better love story to India, Indians and Mumbai in particular, I don't know it (and I don't think The Far Pavilions does a better job). Roberts hearts India, and makes you desperate to visit and experience what he experienced (well, most of it).

Quibbles with the book: it's wrapped up a teeny bit too neatly. If, in fact, a lot of this actually happened to him personally, I want to know where he took liberties. Was it only the endings (of tales, of characters)? Additionally, all his characters are at heart good people with good motives-- criminals with hearts of gold and all that. A bit cliché, no? And lastly, while I understand he might not have had any direct contact with women and how they are treated in India, there is little to no mention of some of the horrors they endure in this country. I have to wonder how much else he left out.

Rowling, J.K. (The Tales of Beedle the Bard)

2009-01-02T16:04:00.002-05:00

Disappointing. I expected this series of stories originally mentioned in the Harry Potter books to be far more engaging and to provide greater insight into the universe Rowling created in the HP books. To be honest, I wanted it to be just like an HP book, and it is far from that.

I think the clue we get is in the afterword, which describes how Rowling and some fancy Countess banded together to create a children's fund (which disturbingly doesn't seem to do any actual work, but is more involved in networking), and this book was written by Rowling so that its profits could aid the fund. A worthy cause, sure, and the book isn't expensive by any stretch of the imagination, but couldn't she have put a little more of her heart into it?

Instead we get decently written, but obvious, fairy tales accompanied by footnotes written by Rowling herself (dull) and annotations by Dumbledore (funny, but incongruous). The last tale does provide a tiny bit of information on why Dumbledore acted the way he did in the last couple HP books, but not enough to have made it worthwhile reading the entire Tales.

Theorin, Johan (Echoes from the Dead)

2008-12-04T13:29:00.005-05:00

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

Finally, I get a decent book from LT-- one in which I'm not rolling my eyes at the writing every few pages or wishing the themes were less yawn-inducing. And, actually, I have no idea how well written the original book was since this is a translation of a Swedish murder mystery. Because it climbed to the top of the charts over there, I expect the decent writing is coming through in the translation (especially in terms of the descriptions of the island of Öland and its cold, harsh beauty).

There are Swedish murder mystery authors whom I've enjoyed before (Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö , Henning Mankell), even as their books reflect a dour sensibility among the Swedes. You never put one of these books down and feel really good about humanity. It seems to me that Theorin's book tries hard to not reflect the "nasty, brutish and short" theory of life as these others did.

However, the ending is absolutely and definitively Scandinavian. I suspect if I were Swedish it may seem fitting (and it's not as if our protagonist is left with nothing), but seeing as I'm not, it seemed particularly cruel.

Proulx, Annie (Bad Dirt: Wyoming Stories 2)

2008-11-30T15:25:00.002-05:00

I made the mistake of reading the first Wyoming Stories collection (Close Range) before seeing Brokeback Mountain, which somewhat ruined the movie for me. Here's hoping none of her other stories get made into film, because I did it again.

And I'm doubting these will-- the first collection was sweeping, lonely, grandiose, heartbreaking. Pretty much everything you think of when you think of Wyoming. The second collection has stories are spiteful (Man Crawling Out of Trees), ridiculous (The Hellhole), and wrong (Florida Rental). They all seem to center on the fact that now she's lived in Wyoming for a while, has gotten used to it, lost the rose-colored glasses, and is now a teeny bit bitter about her chosen state.

She's still an excellent writer even when she's off target. Descriptions of how particular rednecks live or what the wind feels like when it blows every day all day do work. But she needs to stay away from one-liners and meandering tales that end with entirely different conclusions.

I may read Fine Just the Way It Is (the third collection of Wyoming Stories), but only if someone tells me it's better than this one.

Simmons, Dan (Ilium)

2008-11-10T19:47:00.003-05:00

How very unfortunate that Simmons' duologies fail with the second book as much as they succeed in the first book. I was really looking forward to reading Olympos, the second book of this duology, until I read the abysmal reviews.

But apparently, Simmons plays even more havoc with his created world-- that of a re-imagined Trojan War, set on Mars no less, and the Earth that can no longer house true humans except those who live exactly 100 years and have no culture to speak of. Is it actually possible to include more, and more complex, characters than Zeus, LGM (little green men), Caliban, and a 1400-year-old wandering Jew? So I hear.

Consequently, I won't be reading Olympos. But I recommend Ilium with the caveat that it doesn't end tied with a neat red bow. If you don't mind that, these particular flights of fancy are engaging, for the most part well-drawn, and illuminating (as a mirror to our own lives).

Patchett, Ann (Bel Canto)

2008-10-12T13:33:00.005-04:00

Without reading any critiques of this book, I'm certain it's about equating music with love, and love with music. Only I can't quite figure out how. Both are beautiful, both take you to unseen places, both sustain us in hard times, both are memorable.

But in this setting? A group of famous and high-class people are kidnapped at a dinner party in some third world country and held for months in the country's VP's house. Because they are not killed outright, they grow and learn and even love together. But I don't think Patchett is only trying to create a story around Stockholm Syndrome, because why else would she make music such an important piece?

Making the characters a little too perfect rubbed me a bit the wrong way. Gen is the perfect translator, Roxane is the perfect soprano, Ruben is the perfect host. If they're all so exemplary, why is it that they make so many mistakes, up to and including the final, fatal ones?

McCarthy, Cormac (The Road)

2008-10-04T19:41:00.002-04:00

I read this book in 2 sittings, 5 hours total, within a 24-hour window.

But I can't say this is a book you cannot put down. I wanted to put it down many, many times. Because it is unflinching in its portrayal of one view of a post-apocalyptic world (one that I think is closer to the truth of what would happen than similar books I've read). I gave myself little breaks in which I would stare out the window, miserable, until I was ready to soldier on.

That is precisely what the father and son in this book are doing, attempting to get to someplace warmer and hopefully peopled by the "good guys." Walking the interstates and country roads, they are emblematic of the human spirit and soul in its incredible resilience.

And yet there is so much more to the book. The father is of the dead past, and while a good guy he does not have the faith in the present and future that the son has, never having lived in the past. I don't think I've read a book in which the innocence of children is so adequately and completely described. Unfortunately, it makes the story all the more heart wrenching. I recommend it, but I also recommend that you read it as fast as you can.