tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-198771962024-03-07T15:12:39.555-05:00Writing in WaxJust a Jewish college girl trying to get her thoughts together before entering "The Real World."Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.comBlogger337125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-52325981391670767762010-10-22T15:04:00.001-05:002010-10-22T15:06:06.674-05:00The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne(#52)<br /><br />When I first read <em>The Scarlet Letter</em> by Nathaniel Hawthorne, I was in a high school English class. As a result, I was looking for very specific things: foreshadowing, symbolism, allegory, and so on. When you are programmed to scan for these literary concepts, you become less of a reader and more of a machine. I clearly remember sitting splayed out on the floor of my kitchen, leaning back on the dishwasher, holding the school-issued copy in my hands. Oddly enough, I recall my position amongst the household appliances more than the story itself. In all respects, I had become like the dishwasher when it came to reading for school—focused, narrow, and intent. I searched, I found, I got an A on the assignment. Period.<br /><br />I’m a lover of English classes in general, but I grudgingly admit that the way they taught us to read took the magic out of the action. If I was too busy looking for symbolism, there was no way I could get lost in a story that survived the 19th century novel mills to become the classic it is today. With this in mind, I set forth into Hawthorne’s Puritan Boston once again.<br /><br /><em>The Scarlet Letter</em> follows the trials and tribulations of Hester Prynne, a woman accused of adultery and sentenced to wear a red letter A over her heart. With her illegitimate daughter Pearl, she lives on the outskirts of Puritan life, embroidering the garments of the rich and holy about town to scrape together a living. In town, Hester’s supposedly dead husband skulks about trying to locate the necessary partner in her crime.<br /><br />On my second reading, I was entranced with the mother-daughter relationship between Hester and Pearl. After having it drilled into my in school that Pearl was the embodiment of the literal and spiritual wilds around Puritan civilization, I enjoyed seeing Pearl as less of a symbol and more a child. I pitied Hester for her struggles with single motherhood, unable to consult with more learned women while dealing with a little girl with a singular mind of her own. Pearl controls Hester with sheer force of personality, so different than the controlled top-down nature of other Puritan families. A book that I had previously seen as just a bunch of cogs propelling me towards a grade suddenly turned into a human drama on the second reading.<br /><br />Ironically, this reading of <em>The Scarlet Letter</em> was spent in similar position as the first, my back propped up against a washing machine in my neighborhood laundromat. Yet, the thrum of the outside machinery coincided more with the life of the book than its individual literary elements. All together, it was a wonderful experience of reliving a story for itself. If you’ve read this before as part of curriculum, give it another chance in the real world. You’ll be surprised and gratified at the result.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-76252487309505169772010-10-18T11:26:00.004-05:002010-10-18T11:46:49.753-05:00Abundance, A Novel of Marie Antoinette by Sena Jeter Naslund(#51)<br /><br />I've picked up and put down this book many times over my course of ownership, lured in by the deckled pages and thrown out by the flowery prose. I've finally finished it and it was decent enough for me to be able to finally put it down, last paged turned, after 24 hours.<br /><br /><em>Abundance, A Novel of Marie Antoinette</em>, by Sena Jeter Naslund, is, as the title suggests, a book about that ill-fated queen from the time she arrive in France until her death at the hands of the French Revolution years later. Naslund does a decent job at portraying Marie Antoinette's growth from blithe little girl thrust into a political marriage to a mature queen and mother who loves the French people, but doesn't truly understand them. Teamed up with an idealistic but weak King Louis XVI, the doomed queen is swept up into political events that she can't possibly control.<br /><br />One thing I liked about Naslund's novel is that it shows Marie Antoinette's sympathetic, but romanticized view of the peasantry. At her own secluded hamlet away from the intrigue of Versailles, the queen apes the farming life of her subjects and fancies living a simple life. Yet, milkmaids do not strip milk from their cows into porcelain buckets and shepardesses do not employ nannies to accompany their children on afternoon walks. Marie Antoinette wears diamond and pearl jewelry while preaching taxation of the country's nobility. Her life is a farce.<br /><br />Still, Naslund takes a very generous view of the queen and grants her faults while also giving her charming characteristics. The book itself is much like the character: well-meaning, but flowery and given to flights of fancy. It can be difficult to work through if you don't have patience with purple prose. However, if you take the time to find the meaning behind the babble, it's a book as charming as its subject.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-82933595783889259492010-10-17T16:55:00.003-05:002010-10-17T17:16:22.282-05:00Lush Life by Richard PriceI got to meet another author at work the other day: Richard Price, author of <em>Lush Life</em>. On first glance, I wasn't impressed. Price is an indescript man, neither handsome nor ugly, not someone that would attract any notice, no matter how empty the room. His off-stage demeanor was standoffish, the kind of of attitude that is either brought on by intense shyness or overiding contempt. After leafing through the first two pages of his urban crime novel, the book seemed sure to hold a similarly low place in my esteem. Still, he was a writer for <em>The Wire</em>, so I popped in to hear the end of his lecture.<br /><br /><em>Lush Life</em> is a lot like the Richard Price that I saw on stage: a gem hidden beneath tightly packed layers of preconceptions. That Price was charming, quick-witted, and a little bit dangerous and so is his book. Set in the Lower East Side, <em>Lush Life</em> is a crime novel that has no mystery. Like <em>The Wire</em>, we know who pulled the trigger; we're just waiting for law enforcement to catch on. The real value in the book is the intense look at shifting environment of that area of Manhattan. It's a neighborhood in constant flux: the Asians replacing Jews, white affluent hipsters replacing immigrants, pioneers replacing natives. The only solids in this twisting mass are the desperately prowling young men, trying to find footing in a society that marginalized them from the day they were born, and the desperately prowling police, grasping at any chance to maintain influence in a sea of crime and political intrigue.<br /><br />If you liked <em>The Wire</em>, you will devour <em>Lush Life</em>. You've seen some of these characters before: kids buying and selling dope on the street corners, the tough female cope, the male officer who has studiously made a mess of every personal relationship, the go-to snitches. Yet, even though you've seen them a million times, Price still makes them terribly compelling. From a book that I figured would turn into a paperweight in under an hour to a novel that I devoured in two nights, <em>Lush Life</em> is forever as shifting as the neighborhood it portrays.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-18449054144966374982010-10-14T16:32:00.001-05:002010-10-14T16:33:54.905-05:00The Black Death: A Personal History by John Hatcher(#49)<br /><br /><em>The Black Death: A Personal History</em> by John Hatcher encompasses an interesting time within a very oddly structured book. I’ve read quite a few historical fiction novels about the plague (see <em>The Year of Wonders</em>) and I’ve skimmed through a few history books about the subject, but I’ve never seen one combined. Clearly, Hatcher was attempting to appeal to those interested in the thoughts and feelings of individuals that rarely get got recorded in the fourteenth century, but also provide a popular history that elucidates the period for those looking for strictly factual content. Unfortunately, the reader ends up with two very different books encased inside the same binding.<br /><br />Hatcher, a renowned scholar of the Middle Ages, spent several decades researching the period around the onset of the bubonic plague in Europe. It’s clear from the factual parts of the book that the man knows what he’s talking about. Pulling from primary sources, Hatcher presents the reader with statistics, royal and ecclesiastical reactions, and the aftermath that changed the path of feudal Europe. In the book’s fictional parts, he pulls he story from the manor records of the real village of Walsham and imagines the villagers’ feelings and reactions from there. Most of the story comes from the point of view of Master John, a fictional cleric who struggles to hold his congregation together as doubt pulls them apart.<br /><br />The problem with this writing strategy is that, while Hatcher presents us with both a Europe-wide view and a focused British view of the plague, he tends to repeat his facts in both accounts. As a reader, it becomes very monotonous and repetitive. I understand that Hatcher needed to cite the facts in his historically accurate account to have credibility, but to hear the same facts repeated from the mouths of his characters was a drag. He must be admired for trying to put out a book that two types of people can enjoy, but also critiqued on the execution. Still, if you’re looking for a book that can give you both an insider’s and outsider’s view of the Black Death, this is the one.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-48736622250653461132010-10-12T16:33:00.000-05:002010-10-12T16:34:14.447-05:00Old School by Tobias Wolff(#48)<br /><br />I’m a public school kid. I spent my elementary years in an inner city school where the teachers manually cranked out math assignments from the old mimeograph and our school books were donated by richer school districts. From sixth until twelfth grade, I moved into one of those richer school districts and enjoyed the novelty of a Xerox, but watched as our 30 year old natatorium began to collapse in on itself. I finished off my educational career at a state university, where funding was ample enough to begin building two new dorms after I had graduated. What I’m try to say here is that I’ve seen friends in their private school uniforms and met up with old classmates who described garden parties on the greens of Princeton, but have never experienced it myself. It’s a mystery, but an intriguing one.<br /><br />I suppose that’s why I’m always seeking out books about boarding schools, those elite institutions where the rich make contacts and children are separated from their families for the sake of education. During <em>The Magicians</em> and the Harry Potter novels, the magic didn’t interest me as much as life within those closed circles. <em>The Secret History</em> was a trove of insight into a privileged world. So when I picked up <em>Old School</em> by Tobias Wolff, it was love.<br /><br /><em>Old School</em> follows the literary exploits of an unnamed narrator in a post-World War II school where writing is a sport with very tangible prizes. Each year, three different writers visit the school and meet with the one boy whose literary work as sufficiently impressed them. Competition to be that one boy is great, driving the students to curl over their typewriters night after night in a flurry of concentration. Winning not only gains a famous author’s attention, but the audible admiration and silent fury from the student body. In other words: nothing like a public school.<br /><br />Wolff manages to lay out a school that seems ridiculously overblown in theory, but tangible in print. He also has a firm grip on the voices of the authors featured in the story: Robert Frost, Ayn Rand, and Ernest Hemingway. Their conversations with the fictional characters are perfect counterparts to their real-life works. Wolff has a keen ear for voice and has clearly dedicated himself to the Great American Classics.<br /><br />The book turned into something much more than a look into the foreign world of boarding schools. It inspired me to track down all of those Hemingway novels that I read in high school, to give William Faulkner another try, to continue to avoid finishing <em>The Fountainhead</em> (I’m not perfect, you know). It’s time to bring that public school education back into action. So, thanks, Tobias Wolff.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-73154215878218145732010-10-11T20:08:00.003-05:002010-10-11T20:53:03.504-05:00Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger(#47)<br /><br />From experience, I can say that sometimes a story suffers from uncooperative characters. You begin building your plot from exposition up, placing your carefully crafted characters in situations that they were designed for. It should be perfect. But characters don't always take the road that you lay out before them. It's usually your fault-- you gave them specific personalities and whims, and changing them mid-story to fit your plotline is difficult. When you bash them into different people, the story suffers tremendously.<br /><br />That was my problem with <em>Her Fearful Symmetry</em> by Audrey Niffenegger. She sets up these interesting characters-- two subtly warring twins, an amature ghost, an OCD crossword architect-- then seems panic when their personalities battle with the story. Niffenegger's story is unique, so the contention can be sad to watch. After their estranged Aunt Elspeth dies, mirror twins Julie and Valentina move into her cemetary-side apartment in London and gradually adjust to independence from their parents and each other. They are not alone, however-- Elspeth still haunts the apartment, watching as her two relatives live her life while she floats in limbo.<br /><br />It's an intriguing storyline, but the characters don't fit the actions that Niffenegger sets out for them. After interacting with the ghostly Elspeth, one twin is warned out of nowhere by her aunt's beau that Elspeth always has an ulterior motive, that she really doesn't have her niece's best interests in mind. This pronouncement doesn't fit with anything that Elspeth has demonstrated so far in the story, yet it foreshadows later events. The OCD crossword puzzle master manages to drive his wife of 25 years away, yet blithely accepts medication from his brand new neighbor girl. It seems like Niffenegger had a goal that the character keep obstructing with traits that <em>she</em> designed, so she shoulder-checks them out of the way for the sake of a pre-planned ending.<br /><br />I find it strangely upsetting that these characters and the story can't seem to get along. I really want to love this book for the dark, slightly unnerving theme of the transient nature of self, but I can't get over the actions that the characters are supposed to take. I'll end up reading the book again for the descriptions and occasional chills, but it will never be truly great in my eyes.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-85613672067041656012010-10-05T16:47:00.000-05:002010-10-05T16:48:41.514-05:00Medieval People by Eileen Edna Power(#46, btw)<br /><br />The problem with owning an e-reader is that you don’t get that closure of money changing hands. You just click through Amazon, pressing the One Click Buy button with impunity while your credit card quietly sobs in your wallet. In an attempt to limit the damage on my bank account, I went through Amazon’s free Kindle books and picked up Eileen Edna Power’s <em>Medieval People</em>.<br /><br />Power’s book follows six medieval lives based entirely on literature (in this case, wills, poems, and contemporary observations) beginning at the fall of the Roman Empire. Most, if not all, of her information is culled from primary sources, which she cites copiously throughout the book. Based on this information, Power constructs the real life conditions and actions of peasants, housewives, abbesses, merchants, and explorers.<br /><br />The individual sketches are interesting, but suffer from language that borders of the painfully purple. Power has a tendency to gush, especially over her male subjects. One man, Thomas Betson, is described as perhaps the epitome of romantic manhood based almost entirely on the love letters he wrote to his preteen fiancé. I’m not making a comment on May-December arranged marriages in the Middle Ages, but of Power’s starry-eyed conclusions that surely a man who wrote letters such as these could do no wrong. I don’t want to cast aspersions at Power’s scholarship—she obviously scoured crumbling documents that most regular people have never seen. Instead, I might say that her language and outlook might have something to do with the era in which the book was written. Originally published in 1924, the book may have been trying to evoke a feeling of simpler times, something that people must have longed for in the years between the two World Wars. If this is so, it probably served its purpose.<br /><br />If you’re still interested in this book, I would suggest finding a hard copy. While the free Kindle version is certainly readable, it’s missing all of the images that probably make the book truly come alive. Though I found parts eye-rollingly painful to read, I will keep this book in my Kindle if only to refer to the primary sources contained within.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-10923339610996141382010-09-30T12:53:00.003-05:002010-10-11T21:04:49.221-05:00The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Steig LarssonI finally did it. I finally completed the <em>Millenium Trilogy</em>.<br /><br />It shouldn't be that difficult-- it's only three books, after all. It's just that it's such a struggle to get to the good parts of all three books that it maked me almost too frustrated to go on. <em>The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest</em> sometimes seems more like a treatise on Swedish politics and legal system than any sort of mystery/action/airport novel at all.<br /><br />After Lisbeth Salander's failed attempt to kill her father, she lands in the hospital with a bullet in her brain. Journalist and apparent lady magnent Mikael Blomkvist once again strides forth into the underbelly of the government to proved Salander's innocence and bring down an insidious government agency. Seems exciting, right? Well, the only things that got me engaged in the novel were Erika Berger's stalker, Salander's hacking skills on a Palm, and the paragraphs on women warriors before each new section of the book. The rest was an exercise in restraint as I tried to keep my thumb from pressing the "Next Page" button on my Kindle at warp speed. I honestly don't care if Blomkvist is some sort of Swedish Don Draper and journalistic savant. Seriously, I never want to hear about it ever again.<br /><br />Now, I have to be fair here. The novel might have been much better written in its original Swedish and its eccentricities much better understood by a native Swede. The phrase "Knights of the Idiotic Table" might have sounded so much less ridiculous when read the way it was meant to be read. And I also have to tell the truth: if Larsson had lived to write another book, I might have read that too, if only to satisfy my curiousity about Camilla Salander. I'm ashamed.<br /><br />If you're still interested in reading this book, Amazon has a new thing where you can preview the whole first chapter right on your computer. I'm not shilling for Amazon-- I just thought it was a cool thing.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-10154797513430583462010-09-11T15:44:00.003-05:002010-09-11T16:04:53.287-05:00The Girl Who Played with Fire by Steig Larsson<em>(Review #44)</em><br /><br />It's interesting how mentally sitting on a book for a while can make a difference in your opinion of it. A while ago, I reviewed <em>The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</em>, the first entry in Steig Larsson's <em>Millenium Trilogy</em>, and gave it pretty positive treatment. Months later, I've had a chance to think beyond the initial thrill that comes with finishing a book and really think about it. It wasn't a grand addition to Western literature; it wasn't even a masterpiece of airport mystery rags. The story was engaging enough, but it was so strangled by product placement and ridiculously irrelevant details that it's all I can do to remember the plot. But I remember how many Billy Pan Pizzas Salander ate, oh yes, I do.<br /><br /><em>The Girl Who Played with Fire</em> suffers from similiar issues. I could probably draw up a catelogue of items from Ikea that Salander purchased for her 25 million kronor apartment or the jacket/sweater combination Blomkvist wore on any given day, but the little plot details have been lost. The plot itself can be gripping at times, but it suffers from the kind of coincidences (mostly centering around Salander) that make it incredibly unbelievable. I don't want to take away the "seriously?" factor for new readers, so I won't spoil them here. To give the book its due, I was reading furiously through the last few pages, which is where things climax to a nasty end.<br /><br />Since I'm a pathological completist, I will be reading the final book in the trilogy. There are a number of plot points that still need to be tied up, so perhaps I might be able to come away with a satisfactory feeling of accomplishment. I'm not going to warn people away from reading this because there are some parts that are suspenseful enough to raise the heartrate. I will, however, caution you that just because all three books spent a bazillion weeks on the bestseller lists doesn't mean that they are any better quality-wise than the box of damp medical mysteries I picked up from the side of the road the other day.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-69287123716777449872010-08-17T17:15:00.001-05:002010-08-17T17:16:45.767-05:00Sacred Hearts by Sarah DunantAny reader of my reviews knows that I’m a sucker for historical fiction. If it sucks, I will finish it anyway, bitching all the way. If it’s good, I thank the fiction gods above. Sometimes it’s hard to find that good novel that makes an honest attempt at historical facts and attitudes while also maintaining an engaging writing style. Sarah Dunant’s <em>Sacred Hearts</em> has it nailed.<br /><br />I’ve read several of Dunant’s novels before, all set in Renaissance Italy. She has a fascination with women, art, and the Counter Reformation. This one is no different. Set in Italian convent of Santa Caterina, it explores the world of high-born nuns who aren’t necessarily in the convent for spiritual reasons. Because the price of dowries skyrocketed in the 16th century, many noble women were placed in nunneries at a far reduced price, imprisoning women who had no desire to enter a marriage with Christ. To alleviate these woes, Dunant’s Santa Caterina convent allows these women to be nominally nuns, but to also pursue the art of music, writing, and conversation. Amidst all of these noble nuns is Zuana, the herbalist in charge of the infirmary. Steady and faithful, she is put in charge of a troublesome, duplicitous, frightened novice. As Zuana struggles with her own beliefs, the structural hierarchy begins to fall around her as the Counter Reformation picks up steam.<br /><br /><em>Sacred Hearts</em> is so well-written that you feel encased in the walls of the fictional convent, even a little frightened when you get brief glimpses of the outside world. You follow these nuns in their ecstasies, in their hysterias, and in their struggle to preserve their way of life from infiltrating fanaticism. It’s almost a shock when the novel comes to its inevitable end because it’s like leaving otherworldly sisters behind. Maybe it’s because I went to an all girls camp for 10 years, but I was comfortable in that women’s world, their haven from the rules of patriarchy. Whatever it is, I look forward to re-reading this book when I have the time.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-6318208951547894232010-08-03T17:42:00.002-05:002010-08-03T18:03:36.193-05:00My Lobotomy by Howard DullyAlright, so imagine you're a normal 12 year old boy. You've got all of the standard 12 year old boy issues, but with the added bonus that your beloved mother died when you were young. You've been living at home with your father, stepmother, biological brother, and two stepbrothers. Your stepmother, for some reason, <em>hates</em> you. To her, you're a budding psychopath, a towering inferno of rage and malicious intent.<br /><br />So she has you lobotomized.<br /><br />Yep, she and your father pay a man to stick a glorified ice pick in your eye sockets, wiggle it around a little in your gray matter, then send you on your way.<br /><br />That's what happens to Howard Dully, author of the memoir <em>My Lobotomy</em>. Dully's experience with the actually lobotomy is only half of the story. He spends his life shuttling between half-way houses, institutions, and jails-- wanted by nobody. Finally, he gets the chance to read his medical file and learn the horrifying truth behind his brutal surgery.<br /><br />I'll admit, I was a little skeptical for the first 100 pages. The evil stepmother story is as old as time-- surely there must have been some medical reason to justify scrambling the brains of a pre-teen. Yet, as I continued reading, Dully presented actual notes from the doctor who performed the surgery, which left me depressed over the lost childhood of an innocent kid. This book is not a work of art, but it's a decent exploration of insanity and family.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-36218478586061929772010-08-02T20:49:00.003-05:002010-08-02T21:32:52.502-05:00The Last Queen by C.W. GortnerIt was the dark of night and the last e-ink page had been turned, leaving me staring anxiously at a list of books that had either already been read or didn't interest me at the moment. I began to tremble, sweat sprang from my forehead with all the vigor of Victoria Falls. I had failed to line up my next book and I was already suffering withdraw, literary DTs. Blindly, I scrambled with my Kindle, flipping frantically through Amazon's Kindle Store. A historical fiction novel lept out at me, though I had sworn to stay away from them for a few days. It was empty calories, a quick fix, a potential shot to the veins. And it was well praised by Amazon reviewer. I pressed "buy" with all the desperation of a back alley junkie.<br /><br />And I read. When I finished, I put my head down and cried.<br /><br />Screw you, you foul Amazon review bitches.<br /><br />I'm not sure what I was expecting from C. W. Gortner's <em>The Last Queen</em>, but I got what I deserved: pap, plain and simple. It's not that it wasn't thoroughly researched, because it seemed to be. It just kills me that I couldn't be more drawn into a book about Juana the Mad, which should have been terribly exciting. Think about it: the daughter of the Catholic Kings of Spain is sent to marry a Flemish archduke, who eventually ends up being a royal douche. She then stands to inherit the the combined kingdoms of Aragon and Castile as all of her older siblings drop dead. Eventually, she stalks her husband's casket all around Spain while trying to hold on to the throne. I ask you, how can this not be interesting?<br /><br />My answer would be that the fault doesn't lie with Juana's story; it's with the storytelling. Gortner spends an entire novel trying to establish a character that is truly grounded and a fighter against impossible odds-- a woman at the mercy of the machinations of men. This Juana is calculating and shrewd, though a little too trusting when it comes to her family. Then, suddenly, she's insane for about three pages. Then she's back to her old self again, never to relapse. It's a weird, uneven characterization that just doesn't work.<br /><br />I've got a dozen other petty complaints with which to waste a reader's time, but I'll spare you the details. Instead, I can let you know that I am seeking therapy-- no person should have to suffer from poor reading material, no matter how desperate they are for the warm velvet of literature. Don't do it, guys. It's not worth it.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-47976735275892917262010-07-31T21:20:00.003-05:002010-07-31T21:41:14.104-05:00The Lonely Polygamist by Brady UdellIt always amazes when a book is populated with characters that I find annoying or distasteful, yet I'm satisfied with my reading experience by the time I finish. I like a book with colorful characters with a few flaws, but I usually would like to root for at least one of them. In <em>The Lonely Polygamist</em> by Brady Udell, I found myself wanting to to line up every character, <em>every single character</em>, and just do a running slap until I ran out of faces. Still, I don't regret a minute of the reading experience.<br /><br />The novel details the life of Golden, an almost reluctant polygamist, his four wives, and 28 children. He's too meek to really be the patriarch of such a clan, so the children run wild while his wives brood over his continuous, seemingly willful absence. As the story progresses, the reader learns the secret history of the family and each member's struggle for control over their own lives in a world where little individuality is accepted.<br /><br />As much as I wanted to punch literally everyone in it, the book offers an interesting view into the dynamics of a plural marriage. Imagine <em>Big Love</em> in novel form and you pretty much have it. Polygamy is such an exotic phenomenon, yet it exists in our own backyards. If I met a polygamist family, I would have so many questions that would probably be too rude to say out loud: What keeps it all together? How do the children get the individual attention that they need and deserve? How does the arrangement stay vital? So many questions, but no polygamists to ask.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-72398403280832289762010-07-28T21:09:00.003-05:002010-07-28T21:30:49.906-05:00The Magicians by Lev GrossmanThere have been nights when I have stayed up late wondering, pondering, trying to fathom a world where wizards are in fact among us, Hogwarts is in upstate New York, and Harry Potter is an emo alcoholic from Brooklyn who spends way too much time reading Narnia-knock offs. Oh, the sleepless nights; oh, the endless days! But, lo, author Lev Grossman has taken up the torch and set pen to paper with this very idea, making my life that much easier.<br /><br /><em>The Magicians</em> doesn't claim to stray from the beaten path (forged by seven <em>Harry Potter</em> books, lest we forget), but it has discovered a new way of walking it. Like Rowling's world, this novel gives us a loner main character, a school of magic, and plucky students who stretch their skills in the name of knowledge. They go on wonderous adventures, eventually facing the evil baddy at the end. But J. K. kept her characters on a strict diet of butterbeer and wacky hijinks, whereas Grossman's characters sloshed, hammered and pissed about 90% of the time. When they aren't off their face, they are desperately trying to make a name for themselves in a school full of backstabbing geniuses.<br /><br />Perhaps the most startling difference between the two works is how disaffected the kids are after they graduate. Rowling tied up all of her loose ends in a sickeningly neat package; Grossman sets his kids in an overwhelming freedom after a very rigid boarding school experience. In a mish-mash of drinking, sex, and unemployment, these kids start tearing themselves, and each other, apart. Judging by the reactions to freedom that I saw in college, I have to believe that all of this behavior is very realistic. It's satisfying to see that even with all the magic in the world, we all are capable of the same self-distructive actions.<br /><br />I truly do recommend this book, both if you've read the Harry Potter series and if it never piqued your interest. It is a mature, honest portrayal of not always likeable people in extraodinary circumstances.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-16638805024672017232010-07-21T16:04:00.002-05:002010-07-31T21:19:55.332-05:00A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin<em>(Ed. Note: #38)</em><br /><br />If you’re reading this and you haven’t read <em>A Game of Thrones</em>, stop. Just stop. Before I started reading these books, I had a few things spoiled for me and I’m sad that I didn’t get the full effect of the story. Once I realized that I had to stay away from everything, I had the most amazing reading experience. I urge you to take my advice and read no further.<br /><br />Are they gone? Good.<br /><br />Anyway, <em>A Clash of Kings</em> is the second book in George R. R. Martin’s <em>A Song of Ice and Fire</em>. After the Eddard’s execution and the scattering of the Stark family, Westeros is now in the grips of civil war, a literal clash of kings. The land and smallfolk are besieged by the marauding armies of five kings—Robb Stark, Balon Greyjoy, and Robert Baratheon’s brothers and son—Stannis, Renly, and Joffrey. During all of this, a sixth claimant of the crown, Daenerys Targaryen, wanders the East with her band of followers, caring for her three newborn dragons.<br /><br />If you’re thinking that sounds like a tough storyline with too many names, you don’t know that half of it. There are so many side stories and characters that typing it up would do more harm than good. Like the previous book, <em>A Clash of Kings</em> demands to be reread several times before you can see the tapestry instead of the individual threads. Everything is connected; it just takes some concentration to figure it out.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-90212424976933087292010-07-13T17:47:00.003-05:002010-07-31T21:20:18.756-05:00A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin<em>(Ed. note: #37)</em><br /><em></em><br />I don’t really know how I got peer-pressured into reading <em>A Game of Thrones</em>, the first book in the <em>A Song of Ice and Fire</em> series by George R.R. Martin. I’m not usually into fantasy novels, the exception being the <em>Kushiel</em> books and anything Tamora Pierce has ever written. I enjoy the historical fiction element that is present in many of these novels, but I could do without the dwarves, elves, and whatever fantastical creatures that usually populate these world. I read Lord of the Rings—no need to travel roads that are imperfect in comparison. Still, I Kindled <em>A Game of Thrones</em> and fell in love.<br /><br />Martin is a beautiful world builder. The fictional Westeros and the surrounding lands are so grounded in reality that I can imagine them as medieval British counties, complete with a working feudal system. The geo-political and family squabbles feel drawn out of history books. And not an elf to be seen. Sure, there is a dwarf, but he’s an actual little person, not a mythical axe-bearing hairy guy.<br /><br />This book’s plot is based on setting up the following books, but it is not short on action. Through different viewpoints separated by chapter, we follow the House Stark, headed by honorable Lord Eddard Stark, and its relations with the throne and House Lannister, the queen’s family. Historically speaking, the plot reminded me of King Edward VI of England and the Woodvilles. We see a once valiant and fair king run to fat and indolence while his wife’s family worms and grasps its way into higher echelons of power. Still, that’s only part of the story—and it would be cruel to ruin it by telling you more.<br /><br />Martin is an interesting author in that he loves his characters, yet is utterly brutal to them. Granted, it is necessary to the plot, but he seems to enjoy lulling his readers into a sense of security with a certain character, then ripping the rug out from under the reader’s feet. It’s jarring, but it gives the book a kind of paper-turning mystery, the kind that makes you finish a gigantic novel in two days. I look forward to seeing HBO’s treatment of this book in the upcoming series, though I hardly think that it will be able to capture the heart-pounding joy of reading a well-plotted novel. Doubters, pick up this book—you won’t regret it.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-44366282800422114752010-07-02T13:23:00.001-05:002010-07-02T13:24:56.747-05:00Your Next Door Neighbor is a Dragon by Zack Parsons<em>(Ed. note: #36)</em><br /><br />You know, I’m not going to be ashamed to say that I spent quite a bit of time on the internet. The internet is <em>interesting</em>. There’s a whole world of knowledge and videos and interaction that could not have existed before the advent on the web. Miss a TV show? No worries, it’s on the internet! Need to do some heavy-duty research for a paper? Holy crap, here’s JSTOR! Need to look some up some quick information to settle a bet? Bam, Wikipedia! It’s a glorious thing and I’m thankful that I spent my childhood without it so that I could properly appreciate it now.<br /><br />But, as every sun casts a shadow, so does the internet. Guys, the internet is <em>weird</em>. Thanks to the most casual of web surfing, I know what degloving is. I’ve been goatse’d more times than I can count. I’ve seen a lady break wind into a cake. I’ve been disturbed and sickened by these series of tubes, and yet, I can’t stay away. It’s an illness.<br /><br />Still, I know that there are many sunshiney people out there, unjaded by repeated surprise viewings of the inner workings of a man’s colon, who are going to cheerfully jump on the internet and be summarily crushed. That’s where Zack Parsons’s <em>Your Next Door Neighbor is a Dragon</em> comes in. Parsons ventures where none of us truly wish to go, seeking out those who allow their freak flags to fly in the anonymity of the web. He interviews furries, voraphiles, fanfiction writers, Ron Paul fans, and so many more, creating a short encyclopedia of common internet denizens. His interviews are held together with what I hope is a fictional road trip narrative, replete with cult kidnappings and obnoxious literary agents.<br /><br />Parsons isn’t a journalist, nor does he claim to be. A brief exploration of his normal writing gig, Something Awful, shows a site that usually displays a decidedly negative view of the people interviewed in this book. Parsons, however, does cast a sympathetic eye on many of his subjects, who are even more absurd in the bright light of day than they are as ones and zeros in a world-wide community. It reminded me of Jon Ronson’s <em>Them</em> (which I’ve plugged more than once) in that it showed the real person behind the mask.<br /><br />This isn’t a book that you use to write a research paper on the sociology of the internet, but it gives the reader a good idea of what lurks beneath the web’s glossy surface. Parsons subjects himself to it so you don’t have to. Be grateful.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-44059009457432431632010-06-20T21:12:00.001-05:002010-06-20T21:14:09.864-05:00Bliss by O.Z. Livaneli<em>(Ed.-- That number thing on the left side is broken. This is book #35.)</em><br /><br />Not that long ago, I purchased a box full of $1.99 books from the internet, several of which I’ve already written entries about. All told, that shipment was lackluster, filled with books that were worth little more than a shrug and a Frisbee toss back into the box. I wasn’t expecting a trove of Penguin Classics or anything, so I’m not offended by a little light reading. I did get lucky, however, to receive the novel <em>Bliss</em>, by Turkish novelist O.Z. Livaneli. A scant 276 pages, <em>Bliss</em> captures the struggles of a country and populace trying to decide their roles in the world.<br /><br />Turkey is an odd country, geography-wise. While most of it is considered Asia, bits can theoretically be classified as Europe. Stuck between the secular West and religious East, Turkey is still striving to create a solid identity. The nonreligious government dreams of membership within the European Union, which is hindered by the increasing Islamist factions within the country. It’s a strange world where cultures clash in great waves. Livaneli demonstrates these divisions with his characters: Meryem, a teenage villager who is raped by her uncle; Cemal, her cousin sent to take her to Istanbul for a ritual killing; and Irfan, a professor in a mid-life crisis. The three lives collide on a boat in the middle of the Aegean.<br /><br />Turkey is at a crossroads in its development. Will it continue to throw itself against the wall of Europe, trying to achieve acceptance in its fairly anti-Muslim clique? Or will it roll over to the continuous tide of Islamist factions and institute a religious-based government, an Asia Minor Iran? Turkey has been in the news lately, but the world should keep an eye on this region. Their choices in the near future may affect us all.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-22967594085547532682010-06-20T16:44:00.001-05:002010-06-20T16:44:48.173-05:00The Case Book of Victor Frankenstein by Peter AckroydHave you ever read a book and have just been entirely unsure as to why the author decided to take the time to write it? That’s pretty much how I feel about <em>The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein</em> by Peter Ackroyd. A slightly adjusted retelling of the Frankenstein story by Mary Shelley, the novel does little to improve or grow upon the original story. Essentially, Victor Frankenstein, a young scholar from Switzerland, enrolls in Oxford, where he meets the revolutionary poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. Consumed with a drive to test the boundaries of life and the Divine, Frankenstein obtains a series of bodies through London’s resurrection men and creates the famous monster that we all know and love.<br /><br />While Ackroyd makes use of the different setting to introduce Frankenstein to the likes of the Shelleys and Lord Byron, I still can’t see the point of this book. The original works in so many ways—why even bother to create what is essentially a remake? Granted, it takes a historian like Ackroyd to make London come alive as it does in this novel. The city has so many sides, so many mysteries, that it is a perfect character for any and all period novels. Still, it is a pale imitation of something that has already been perfect for years. I don’t like to say that any work of art is a waste of time, but do yourself a favor and pick up the original <em>Frankenstein</em>. You’ll never get those hours back if you waste them on this one.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-28194269153503240362010-06-17T16:41:00.000-05:002010-06-17T16:42:09.730-05:00A Reliable Wife by Robert GoolrickRobert Goolrick’s novel, <em>A Reliable Wife</em>, introduced to me a Wisconsin I never knew existed. Up to this point, my only insight into the great state was that it was cold, residents hate the Minnesota Vikings, and there is always a brisk sale of cheesehead hats. Goolrick portrayal bitch-slaps my theory, showing me a 1900’s Wisconsin that was so desolate and hopeless that it drove people mad.<br /><br />Not exactly a Midwestern paradise.<br /><br /><em>A Reliable Wife</em> isn’t really about Wisconsin. Instead, we follow a mail-order bride, who doubles as a con-artist, who struggles with her past and her intention to murder her new husband for his money. The actual story itself is okay, though it is held together by a string of plot holes that makes it difficult to take it seriously. However, whatever Goolrick lacks in storytelling, he makes up for with phrases that I find beautiful and haunting. Every phrase crafts a bleak, blindingly white world, a world more Fargo than jolly Cheesehead. A place where “every day there was some new tragedy, some new and inexplicable failure of the ordinary.” It’s stunning. If you do pick up this book, savor the beauty of the words, even if you have to suffer through a lackluster story to do it.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-6099440907831233062010-06-09T17:04:00.001-05:002010-06-09T17:04:50.014-05:00The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig LarssonWhen I used to travel more often, I would bring my own books to the airport. While I made it seem that the thought was to save money on reading material, it was mostly the paranoia that I would finish every book before the end of my trip, stranding me in a foreign airport with nothing to do. Yet, even while I was humping around a small library through the terminal, I would be inescapably drawn to the bookstores. It’s a disease.<br /><br />Anyway, <em>The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</em>, by the late author Steig Larsson, would be exactly the kind of book that I would find in an airport bookseller. The bestsellers in such a shop are the kinds that you don’t have to put much thought into, yet exciting enough to get you through a flight with screaming children. This novel is a lot like that. Disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist is invited to a lonely island to solve the disappearance of an industry tycoon’s niece and encounters much more than he had originally bargained for. Assisting him is the hard-as-nails hacker Salander, a girl with a black and white view of right and wrong.<br /><br />Saying that it’s an airport novel does not mean that I think it’s trash. As soon as Larsson introduced the possibility of a serial killer that uses Bible verses, I was hooked and flipped through my Kindle version with blinding speed. Unfortunately, I really can’t get too excited over corporate naughtiness, which was pretty much the last fourth of the book. It’s just not my thing. I also found the Apple fanboyness distracting—I frankly don’t care that all of the good guys are apparently dedicated to Macs. Just get to the story.<br /><br />Despite my qualms, the story was definitely good enough for me to snag Larsson’s sequels to this one, if only to find out how it all ends.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-8607752560263649102010-06-06T20:56:00.002-05:002010-06-06T20:57:01.344-05:00The Book of Loss by Julith Jedamus<em>The Book of Loss</em> is one of those rare novels in which you can absolutely hate the protagonist and everything she stands for, but still like the story. That’s usually a pretty difficult thing—after all, if you’re too busy wanting to slap the shit out of some whiney character, then the tale itself usually falls by the wayside. Yet, author Julith Jedamus has formed a world where every character has some pretty glaring flaws; it’s just a matter of shades of gray.<br /><br />Jedamus’s novel takes place in Heian Japan, in the muffled halls of the Imperial Court. While the world outside steadily goes to hell by way of plague and mismanagement, the interior of the female quarter is going through a war of its own. The unnamed narrator leaves us a diary that chronicles her rage as her exiled lover, Tachibana no Kanesuke, transfers his affections to her younger, prettier rival, Izumi no Jiju. Our narrator’s jealousy and paranoia grows until it shakes the very heart of the Empire.<br /><br />Like I mentioned before, the narrator is pitiful and rather unlikeable, not only through her actions, but through her very unreliability as a narrator. We only see within her warped little world and rarely catch a glimpse of the reactions of others in a society where emotions of the sort are taboo. Granted, she was thoroughly wronged by Kanesuke and Izumi, but we never get a firm feeling as to whether they truly deserves the amount of rage the narrator invests in them. Jedamus has used Imperial Japan’s veiled society to create a situation where the reader feels eternally off balanced and, as a result, always on her toes.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-60939365750404576672010-06-04T14:41:00.000-05:002010-06-04T14:42:31.147-05:00Beauty by Sherri S. TepperI’ve always liked deconstructed fairy tales, whether it’s through the works of Gregory Maguire or Robin McKinley. Fairy tales are always so distant—you’re not reading a story, you’re reading a lesson. When Cinderella, Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty gets a face and a voice, the tale is personalized. You’re invested. So, <em>Beauty</em>, a novel by Sherri S. Tepper didn’t have to work that hard to snag me. Unfortunately, things then turned weird.<br /><br />Beauty, the daughter of a duke and a mysterious missing woman, is a loquacious, vain teenager in the 15th century. When she discovers that a curse is to be laid on her when she turns 16, Beauty escapes into the world, leaving her half-sister behind to take the brunt of a sleeping curse that spans a century. Fine, this I can handle. Suddenly, she stumbles upon a film crew from the deep end of twenty-first century sent to film a documentary about the end of magic. Stolen away with the film makers, she explores the terrors of the 21st century, the calm before the storm of the 20th century, and then a world created and abandoned by an ancient writer.<br /><br />Say what now? This is where I’ll stop because you have to read it for yourself.<br /><br />Tepper, though an incredibly imaginative author, suffers from something that I think all writers battle: too many ideas. Beauty has so many swirling ideas that it’s difficult to pin them down and analyze. There’s environmentalism, a criticism of organized religion, a rant against those who create ugly works (mostly horror writers, for some reason), and the exploration of the worlds that writers create. Even just picking one of these themes would make for a thoughtful book, one that would allow readers to meditate on the message. Instead, Tepper’s novel doesn’t allow the reader to stop and think before throwing them into a swirling stew of ideas and opinions. If you love books that take you places that you have never been before, then this book is for you; if you want something straight forward, better leave this one in the bowels of Amazon.com.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-43284939048761669892010-05-28T13:15:00.000-05:002010-05-28T13:16:32.224-05:00Kept by D.J. TaylorBack in high school creative writing class, I had an assignment to write a soap opera script, which would then be read in front of the class. It’s not often that you get assigned to write something so ridiculous, so I went all out. In the span of 10 pages, there was amnesia caused by a tragic ladder accident, rival doctors, scheming exes, secret twins, buried treasure, familial revelations, covert relationships, and dramatic comas. It was a masterpiece. Of course, soap opera conventions are in and of themselves simple; it’s how the writers combine them that makes the whole thing complex. When you take something with already complex conventions and try to shove them into one document, things get a little hairy.<br /><br />D.J. Taylor’s <em>Kept</em> is a web of Victorian literature tropes that can be mind-boggling to decipher. Here’s a short list of the conventions I was able to identify: deranged woman in the attic, heiress kept against her will, gothic setting, people reaching too far about their station and failing miserably, paid-by-the-letter subscription wordiness and servant/master relations. I am not faulting Taylor for these conventions; indeed, he does well by them. There were some points that I thought I was reading Dickens. However, the combination of all of the little details, instead of creating a Victorian supernovel, just becomes confusing. The connections between a murder in the beginning of the novel, a naturalist, a daring train robber, and the woman in the attic are all drawn by the end, but tenuously. I’ve had a night to marinate the story in my mind and I’m still not entirely sure what happened.<br /><br />Though the plot is convoluted and the novel itself suffered from Too Many Characters Syndrome (if I’m bored someday, I’m going to count them all), it is in no way a bad book. I think that we have <em>Kept</em> credit for striving for authenticity. I honestly believe that if you had plopped this book in front of me after finished my college Victorian Literature course, I might have mistaken it for some Dickens protégé. If you read this book, you’ll appreciate the level of detail, but, for your own sake, take notes. Then share them with me.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19877196.post-83536771985169077072010-05-27T16:41:00.001-05:002010-05-27T16:42:46.552-05:00Oryx and Crake by Margaret AtwoodUgh, I hate this review. After gaining some perspective on some similar books, I'll be back.<br />____<br /><br />There’s something about <em>Oryx and Crake</em>, one of Margaret Atwood’s many dystopian novels, which has kept me from writing a review even though I finished the book a little while ago. It’s not that I didn’t like the book—it’s actually right up my alley. Dystopian novels give me a thrill down in my black little heart.<br /><br />Atwood’s world is one in the near future, where cities are ghettos and the elite live in corporate enclaves with adults working in the owner-company’s complexes while the children go to company schools. The smartest students move forward to work in the growing genetically modified animal business while the less gifted are pushed towards the liberal arts (English major says ouch). Everything is provided for you. It’s a faux-utopia within a greater, stricter dystopian system. When the one-man scientific revolution in the form of the character Crake destroys most of mankind, a utopia appears to be built out of the ashes of the old. Or is it?<br /><br />Utopias are a curious thing. I seem to remember that, back in high school health class, we studied Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, a pyramid with basic survival needs at its base and self-actualization at its peak. Without the base, the pyramid crumbles and a human being cannot become a well-rounded human being because he is too worried about his own survival to care about things that don’t contribute to his warmth and caloric intake. Yet, it’s when that self-actualization is reached that humans begin branching off into areas of exploration that might be better left unexplored. It also may lead them to lose that sharpness that was so important to survival, making them easily cattle prodded into place. It seems to me that a utopia is a mere breath away from a dystopia.<br /><br />What I would really love to do is to come back to this when I read Sir Thomas More’s <em>Utopia</em>. I feel that understanding the original definition of the word might coalesce my thoughts about Oryx and Crake into something more than a disjointed, crap-psychology ramble. This is a thought-provoking book and causes the reader to take stock of the shock entertainment that now seems so commonplace, of the scientific discoveries that daily either drive us to our salvation or our ruin.Kate (pereka)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06072612765599701900noreply@blogger.com0