For some reason, this got into my head, bands or singers with good alliteration in their names:
Mute Math
Modest Mouse
Franz Ferdinand
Foo Fighters
Death Cab for Cutie
Get Set Go
Beastie Boys
Goo Goo Dolls
Yeah Yeah Yeahs (is this alliterative or just repetitive? Same for above, I suppose)
Jack Johnson
Janis Joplin
Beach Boys
Janet Jackson
Frou Frou
Counting Crows
Ben's Brother
Marilyn Monroe
Semisonic
Temper Trap
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Reading List: Part IV
Selected Poems Oscar Wilde, Sept. 14th. Decided to read a little poetry as a palate cleanser. A brief collection of Oscar Wilde poems did the trick.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards, Sept. 24th. Discussed in Sept. 22nd post "New books, concert tickets".
Everyone Worth Knowing, by Lauren Weisberger, Sept. 28th. Discussed in Sept. 25th post "Currently Reading".
After This by Alice McDermott, Oct 6th. Very interesting book, set during the '60s. Never really got the "hang" of it, however. Glad I read it, but wouldn't read again.
Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams, Oct. 25th. Another Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sequel.
Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters by Jane Austen and Ben H. Winters, Oct. 27th. In the style of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, this is one literary fad I whole-heartedly approve of. If only someone would write Jane Eyre and Vampires. Maybe that should be my next project.
The Bridges of Madison County by James Waller, Nov. 1st. This book was a lot different than I expected it to be. Probably the movie was the culprit. Ironically, my favorite part was nowhere near the movie, the part near the end with Robert and the saxophone player. A v. touching story, well-written.
How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez, Nov. 6th. I had read her other book, In the Time of the Butterflies, which I was v. impressed with. Also just read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz, an excellent book, which is also partly set in the Dominican Republic.
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, Nov. 10th. One of my favorite books, a must-read for modern feminists. It is exceedingly well-thought out and provocative. I especially love the appendix(?) where scholars from the future analyze The Handmaid's Tale as an historical document of a failed social experiment.
Thank You for Smoking by Christopher Buckley, Dec. 4th. A v. interesting book, another example of why you should read the book first. All I could do was compare it to the movie, and how I thought the movie improved upon the concept.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards, Sept. 24th. Discussed in Sept. 22nd post "New books, concert tickets".
Everyone Worth Knowing, by Lauren Weisberger, Sept. 28th. Discussed in Sept. 25th post "Currently Reading".
After This by Alice McDermott, Oct 6th. Very interesting book, set during the '60s. Never really got the "hang" of it, however. Glad I read it, but wouldn't read again.
Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams, Oct. 25th. Another Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sequel.
Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters by Jane Austen and Ben H. Winters, Oct. 27th. In the style of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, this is one literary fad I whole-heartedly approve of. If only someone would write Jane Eyre and Vampires. Maybe that should be my next project.
The Bridges of Madison County by James Waller, Nov. 1st. This book was a lot different than I expected it to be. Probably the movie was the culprit. Ironically, my favorite part was nowhere near the movie, the part near the end with Robert and the saxophone player. A v. touching story, well-written.
How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez, Nov. 6th. I had read her other book, In the Time of the Butterflies, which I was v. impressed with. Also just read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz, an excellent book, which is also partly set in the Dominican Republic.
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, Nov. 10th. One of my favorite books, a must-read for modern feminists. It is exceedingly well-thought out and provocative. I especially love the appendix(?) where scholars from the future analyze The Handmaid's Tale as an historical document of a failed social experiment.
Thank You for Smoking by Christopher Buckley, Dec. 4th. A v. interesting book, another example of why you should read the book first. All I could do was compare it to the movie, and how I thought the movie improved upon the concept.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Reading List: May: Part III
Sandworms of Dune by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, June 9th. Part of an extensive series of prequels and sequels penned by Frank Herbert's son as follow-ups to Frank's classic Dune series. Dune is one of my favorite book of all time. These books are not as good as Dune, although I think Brian Herbert and Anderson would be the first to tell you that. They are interesting additions, however, and worth reading if you are a die-hard Dune fan, as they are based on Frank Herbert's notes, following his own plans for the series.
The Golden Compass, June 22nd, The Subtle Knife, June 30th, and The Amber Spyglass, July 9th, all by Philip Pullman. One of my favorite fantasy series, right up there with The Lord of the Rings and Dune. There are not words to express. I first read the series in late 2008, and this was my second time reading it. I think it may become one of my annual rereads.
White Oleander by Janet Fitch, July 14th. Another book that I have continued to come back to. I think this was the third time I had read it. I was first drawn to the story of a young girl struggling in foster care, surviving very traumatic situations to become a relatively well-adjusted young woman. Later I was more attracted to the story of an artist trying to find her point of view and style, especially in the shadow of her mother's not inconsiderable talent. A very haunting and uplifting book.
Paul of Dune by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, July 17th. See above.
Atonement by Ian McEwan, July 24th. Was v. delighted with this book. I loved the structure of the events, Briony in old age, looking back on a day when she was 13, when she changed the course of her life, her sister's and Robbie's with one act. Then we move to World War II, following Robbie as he tries to survive and return to Cecilia. And in the third part of the book, the events after the war, and the riddle as to their true meaning. The first part is the best, a sleepy day unravels, filled with common-place events. Cecilia chips a vase, struggles to understand her feelings, her mother fights a migraine headache, Robbie writes a letter. McEwan's descriptions are full of detail and life and meaning. A wonderful book.
My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk, Aug. 28th. Pamuk is an incredible writer, my one lament about his books being how long it takes me to read them. It is not that they are dull, but that they are dense. These are not "easy reads". Every word has intricate, intense meaning, and, for me at least, it takes twice as long to get through each page. When I did manage to reach the end, I was glad I had put forth the effort. It may be a while, however, before I have the stamina to try another.
One of the most confusing aspects of this book was the changes in narration. Pamuk has the singular and enviable audacity to throw the reader headlong into a book that changes narrators every chapter, without ever acquainting the reader with this fact, or trying to make the reader comfortable. This was one initial difficulty I had to overcome. This quote is from a chapter narrated by a drawing of a tree, an apparent proponent of the artistic style that does not show drawings of trees as individual trees, each different from the next, but rather as a type, a cookie-cutter likeness.
"I thank Allah that I, the humble tree before you, have not been drawn with such intent. And not because I fear that if I'd been thus depicted all the dogs in Istanbul would assume I was a real tree and piss on me: I don't want to be a tree, I want to be it's meaning." p. 51
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, Aug. 31st. Lahiri is a v. talented writer, but I think I prefer her stories, having also read Interpreter of Maladies and Unaccustomed Earth. There were parts of this book I very much liked. I think Lahiri is especially adept at creating moments, vivid moments that reflect whole generations and relationships. This is what I love about her stories. This gift is evident in The Namesake but short stories are perhaps a better vehicle for her talent.
"'Try to remember it always,' he said once Gogol had reached him, leading him slowly back across the breakwater, to where his mother and Sonia stood waiting. 'Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went to a place where there was nowhere left to go."
Beloved by Toni Morrison, Sept. 9th. Morrison is one of my favorite authors. We read Song of Solomon in high school, which I have reread many times. I am kind of surprised that it took me so long to read this, as it is one of her most acclaimed works. Beloved was exquisite, haunting, at times confusing. I have always loved how Morrison incorporates the spiritual and the magical into her stories in a way that makes you question what is real.
Her Husband: Hughes and Plath- a marriage by Diane Middlebrook, Sept. 13th. A very interesting book, in that it puts as much emphasis on Hughes as it does Plath, someone who is very often overlooked. Middlebrook does an excellent job of presenting Hughes's side of the marriage, and gives a very in-depth analysis of their creative relationship, as well as the more mundane facts of biography.
The Golden Compass, June 22nd, The Subtle Knife, June 30th, and The Amber Spyglass, July 9th, all by Philip Pullman. One of my favorite fantasy series, right up there with The Lord of the Rings and Dune. There are not words to express. I first read the series in late 2008, and this was my second time reading it. I think it may become one of my annual rereads.
White Oleander by Janet Fitch, July 14th. Another book that I have continued to come back to. I think this was the third time I had read it. I was first drawn to the story of a young girl struggling in foster care, surviving very traumatic situations to become a relatively well-adjusted young woman. Later I was more attracted to the story of an artist trying to find her point of view and style, especially in the shadow of her mother's not inconsiderable talent. A very haunting and uplifting book.
Paul of Dune by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, July 17th. See above.
Atonement by Ian McEwan, July 24th. Was v. delighted with this book. I loved the structure of the events, Briony in old age, looking back on a day when she was 13, when she changed the course of her life, her sister's and Robbie's with one act. Then we move to World War II, following Robbie as he tries to survive and return to Cecilia. And in the third part of the book, the events after the war, and the riddle as to their true meaning. The first part is the best, a sleepy day unravels, filled with common-place events. Cecilia chips a vase, struggles to understand her feelings, her mother fights a migraine headache, Robbie writes a letter. McEwan's descriptions are full of detail and life and meaning. A wonderful book.
My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk, Aug. 28th. Pamuk is an incredible writer, my one lament about his books being how long it takes me to read them. It is not that they are dull, but that they are dense. These are not "easy reads". Every word has intricate, intense meaning, and, for me at least, it takes twice as long to get through each page. When I did manage to reach the end, I was glad I had put forth the effort. It may be a while, however, before I have the stamina to try another.
One of the most confusing aspects of this book was the changes in narration. Pamuk has the singular and enviable audacity to throw the reader headlong into a book that changes narrators every chapter, without ever acquainting the reader with this fact, or trying to make the reader comfortable. This was one initial difficulty I had to overcome. This quote is from a chapter narrated by a drawing of a tree, an apparent proponent of the artistic style that does not show drawings of trees as individual trees, each different from the next, but rather as a type, a cookie-cutter likeness.
"I thank Allah that I, the humble tree before you, have not been drawn with such intent. And not because I fear that if I'd been thus depicted all the dogs in Istanbul would assume I was a real tree and piss on me: I don't want to be a tree, I want to be it's meaning." p. 51
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, Aug. 31st. Lahiri is a v. talented writer, but I think I prefer her stories, having also read Interpreter of Maladies and Unaccustomed Earth. There were parts of this book I very much liked. I think Lahiri is especially adept at creating moments, vivid moments that reflect whole generations and relationships. This is what I love about her stories. This gift is evident in The Namesake but short stories are perhaps a better vehicle for her talent.
"'Try to remember it always,' he said once Gogol had reached him, leading him slowly back across the breakwater, to where his mother and Sonia stood waiting. 'Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went to a place where there was nowhere left to go."
Beloved by Toni Morrison, Sept. 9th. Morrison is one of my favorite authors. We read Song of Solomon in high school, which I have reread many times. I am kind of surprised that it took me so long to read this, as it is one of her most acclaimed works. Beloved was exquisite, haunting, at times confusing. I have always loved how Morrison incorporates the spiritual and the magical into her stories in a way that makes you question what is real.
Her Husband: Hughes and Plath- a marriage by Diane Middlebrook, Sept. 13th. A very interesting book, in that it puts as much emphasis on Hughes as it does Plath, someone who is very often overlooked. Middlebrook does an excellent job of presenting Hughes's side of the marriage, and gives a very in-depth analysis of their creative relationship, as well as the more mundane facts of biography.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Reading List: Part II
Life of Pi by Yann Martel, February 7th. Besides being very informative (I now know what to do if trapped on a lifeboat with a tiger) this book was very warm and absorbing, besides being terrifyingly real to me. This book is what I mean when I say that writing should transport you. I feel like, whatever I was doing when I wasn't reading this book, I was thinking about Pi and Richard the tiger, and wondering what was going to happen next to them. Combine with that the beautiful style and prose of Yann Martel, and you have a masterpiece.
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert, February 14th. An immensely depressing book that is impressive in its depression. Madame Bovary is the tale of an unfaithful, imprudent woman who gradually ruins herself and her poor husband, pitiful because he truly loves his wife. I like Flaubert's eye for details, always useful in books from another time, place or culture.
The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James, March 15th. This one took me about a month to read, but was well worth the effort. This classic tale of an American girl brought to Europe, who basically has the world at her feet, but purposefully, one might even say perversely, chooses to be unhappy, turning down several worthy proposals to marry a no-account louse she doesn't even like that much, who is having an affair with her friend. Henry James is an iconic writer, although not a personal favorite. I don't think he likes women very much, and I can never figure out why. He reminds me a little of T.E. Lawrence in that way.
Isabel's admirer, and by far the best match, trying to convince her to come away with him, or do whatever it takes to be happy:
"I swear as I stand here, that a woman deliberately made to suffer is justified in anything in life- in going down into the streets if that will help her! I know how you suffer, and that's why I'm here. We can absolutely do as we please; to whom under the sun do we owe anything? What is it that holds us, what is it that has the smallest right to interfere in such a question as this? Such a question is between ourselves- and to say that is to settle it! Were we born to rot in our misery- were we born to be afraid!"
Washington Square by Henry James, March 25th. Nobody writes quite like Henry James! There's a breathless quality to his prose, that brings me back to him, despite his poor opinion of women. In this novel, yet again a woman marries a man, despite all the wiser men in her life (in this case her father, in Portrait it was her gallant, dying cousin Ralph) warning her that the man's a crook. Perhaps even more depressing than Portrait, in Washington Square poor Catherine, who has never been pretty or clever enough for her father, is pursued by a young man for her fortune. Her father promises her that he will disown her if she should marry the young man, who promptly decamps for more lucrative pastures, breaking Catherine's heart. The father remains suspicious that she will merely wait until he is dead to marry the lout, and when Catherine refuses to promise she will not, his suspicions are confirmed, and he disinherits her, dies and leaves his fortune to charities. The young man returns years later, and an awkward scene ensues, in which Catherine reveals she was not waiting for him, and sends him packing. She basically ends up with nothing, except perhaps her self-respect.
Wuthering Heights, March 30th. Ah, the classic romance! I was surprised, however, at the very odd format of the novel, which asks you to believe that the classic tale of Catherine and Heathcliff was related to our narrator several decades after it actually happened, and then was written down in a diary, which we are presumably reading a century later, or whatever. All I have to say is, what memories! Didn't quite meet the hype, although parts of this story are very enchanting, particularly this passage, which kind of sums up the very love-hate (one might say stalker-ish) feelings between Heath and Cathy:
"Her senses never returned; she recognized nobody from the time you left her," I said. "She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream- may she wake as kindly in the other world!"
"May she wake in torment!" he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there- not in heaven- not perished- where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my suffering! And I pray one prayer- I repeat it till my tongue stiffens- Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you- haunt me then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe- I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always- take any form- drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!" p. 163-64
Pot Pourri: Whistlings of an Idler by Eugenio Cambacares, April 28th. This was a v. strange book, that took me a long time to read, with the result that I have no recollection what it was about.
A Little Princess by Francis Hodgeson Burnett, May 5th. My favorite children's book, mostly because it is so moral, not that I ever learned anything from these morals. I was so directly opposite little heroine Sarah in almost every way. Where she was patient and good and kind with the horrors life fed her, I always thought I should have railed and fought. But I loved her for her goodness, as I suppose her schoolmates did. I also loved the lavish descriptions of the fairytale she awoke to everyday with Becky, courtesy of the Indian servant, one of my favorite characters. Reading it from the perspective of adulthood changed little for me, to my delight. I felt like a little girl again, bookish and wishing I lived in London.
Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier, May 9th. I love this book for the wonderful images and descriptions of the paintings. The characters are very beautifully rendered. Griet is very outwardly quiet, with a rich inner life, possessing extraordinary perception. Ver Meer is quietly foreboding, relentless in the selfish pursuit of his art that brings about the ultimate destruction of the precarious balance between Griet and his wife.
World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks, May 13th. An incredibly delightful book. Told through the perspective of about fifty characters from all different nationalities and walks of life, it tells the epic tale of a fictitious, incredibly realistic world zombie take-over, and how the world fights back and eventually recovers. Very vivid in its imagery and a well-thought out and executed view of a global holocaust. V. good read.
Wicked Witch, May 25th, and Wicked Curse, May 31st, both by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie. Terrible, never read. Not worth any kind of analysis at all. Can't believe I actually read two of this swill series.
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert, February 14th. An immensely depressing book that is impressive in its depression. Madame Bovary is the tale of an unfaithful, imprudent woman who gradually ruins herself and her poor husband, pitiful because he truly loves his wife. I like Flaubert's eye for details, always useful in books from another time, place or culture.
The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James, March 15th. This one took me about a month to read, but was well worth the effort. This classic tale of an American girl brought to Europe, who basically has the world at her feet, but purposefully, one might even say perversely, chooses to be unhappy, turning down several worthy proposals to marry a no-account louse she doesn't even like that much, who is having an affair with her friend. Henry James is an iconic writer, although not a personal favorite. I don't think he likes women very much, and I can never figure out why. He reminds me a little of T.E. Lawrence in that way.
Isabel's admirer, and by far the best match, trying to convince her to come away with him, or do whatever it takes to be happy:
"I swear as I stand here, that a woman deliberately made to suffer is justified in anything in life- in going down into the streets if that will help her! I know how you suffer, and that's why I'm here. We can absolutely do as we please; to whom under the sun do we owe anything? What is it that holds us, what is it that has the smallest right to interfere in such a question as this? Such a question is between ourselves- and to say that is to settle it! Were we born to rot in our misery- were we born to be afraid!"
Washington Square by Henry James, March 25th. Nobody writes quite like Henry James! There's a breathless quality to his prose, that brings me back to him, despite his poor opinion of women. In this novel, yet again a woman marries a man, despite all the wiser men in her life (in this case her father, in Portrait it was her gallant, dying cousin Ralph) warning her that the man's a crook. Perhaps even more depressing than Portrait, in Washington Square poor Catherine, who has never been pretty or clever enough for her father, is pursued by a young man for her fortune. Her father promises her that he will disown her if she should marry the young man, who promptly decamps for more lucrative pastures, breaking Catherine's heart. The father remains suspicious that she will merely wait until he is dead to marry the lout, and when Catherine refuses to promise she will not, his suspicions are confirmed, and he disinherits her, dies and leaves his fortune to charities. The young man returns years later, and an awkward scene ensues, in which Catherine reveals she was not waiting for him, and sends him packing. She basically ends up with nothing, except perhaps her self-respect.
Wuthering Heights, March 30th. Ah, the classic romance! I was surprised, however, at the very odd format of the novel, which asks you to believe that the classic tale of Catherine and Heathcliff was related to our narrator several decades after it actually happened, and then was written down in a diary, which we are presumably reading a century later, or whatever. All I have to say is, what memories! Didn't quite meet the hype, although parts of this story are very enchanting, particularly this passage, which kind of sums up the very love-hate (one might say stalker-ish) feelings between Heath and Cathy:
"Her senses never returned; she recognized nobody from the time you left her," I said. "She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream- may she wake as kindly in the other world!"
"May she wake in torment!" he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there- not in heaven- not perished- where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my suffering! And I pray one prayer- I repeat it till my tongue stiffens- Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you- haunt me then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe- I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always- take any form- drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!" p. 163-64
Pot Pourri: Whistlings of an Idler by Eugenio Cambacares, April 28th. This was a v. strange book, that took me a long time to read, with the result that I have no recollection what it was about.
A Little Princess by Francis Hodgeson Burnett, May 5th. My favorite children's book, mostly because it is so moral, not that I ever learned anything from these morals. I was so directly opposite little heroine Sarah in almost every way. Where she was patient and good and kind with the horrors life fed her, I always thought I should have railed and fought. But I loved her for her goodness, as I suppose her schoolmates did. I also loved the lavish descriptions of the fairytale she awoke to everyday with Becky, courtesy of the Indian servant, one of my favorite characters. Reading it from the perspective of adulthood changed little for me, to my delight. I felt like a little girl again, bookish and wishing I lived in London.
Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier, May 9th. I love this book for the wonderful images and descriptions of the paintings. The characters are very beautifully rendered. Griet is very outwardly quiet, with a rich inner life, possessing extraordinary perception. Ver Meer is quietly foreboding, relentless in the selfish pursuit of his art that brings about the ultimate destruction of the precarious balance between Griet and his wife.
World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks, May 13th. An incredibly delightful book. Told through the perspective of about fifty characters from all different nationalities and walks of life, it tells the epic tale of a fictitious, incredibly realistic world zombie take-over, and how the world fights back and eventually recovers. Very vivid in its imagery and a well-thought out and executed view of a global holocaust. V. good read.
Wicked Witch, May 25th, and Wicked Curse, May 31st, both by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie. Terrible, never read. Not worth any kind of analysis at all. Can't believe I actually read two of this swill series.
Reading List: Part I
I know it's a little late for a retrospective, but what can I say, I've been busy! Here are the 43 books I read in 2009.
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe; Life, the Universe, and Everything; So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams [January 2nd, 3rd and 4th.] That's right, I spent New Year's reading! Didn't have anything to do yet, since I was just out of college and jobless. I didn't even have furniture in my apartment yet. I picked the warmest corner of the bedroom and camped out on the floor. Which is what made these follow-ups to the wildly popular Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe (which I had read New Year's Eve) so appropriate. There's nothing like the fantastic to take your mind off humdrum reality, and a bare apartment and no job is about as humdrum and real as it gets.
The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde, January 10th. Like I said, nothing to do. This book was recommended to me by a friend. I was trying to get into new literature, and this wasn't a bad try. Interesting in the kind of light chicklit fad of our times. It certainly was literary in its references, but still stands out in my mind as why I shouldn't write, in case this is the best I can do. Too harsh?
The Road by Cormac McCarthy, January 11th. Cannot say enough about this book. McCarthy is one of my favorite new writers. I loved No Country for Old Men, and look forward to reading more of his work. His writing is everything I wish mine could be: taut, evocative, seamless. The story is very gripping, although the friend I bored the book from said she "couldn't get into it". She's a very optimistic person, though. I could see this book weighing her down. It scared the shit out of me!
Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Merisha Pessl, January 15th. I remember liking this book when I read it, although I can't remember anything extraordinary about it now. I think I liked the style of the book, how it starts every chapter with a piece of literature from her "reading list" that is obtusely related to the contents of the chapters. But the plot was far-fetched and contrived, the characters wildly unappealing, including the apparent criminal father, victim teacher and most of all, the clique-ish frenemies: The Hills meets Eton. I do remember looking at the author's picture on the back cover and finding her wildly attractive.
The Reader Bernhard Schlink, January 19. A bizarre book, although I don't think I disliked it for the reason most people did. I think most people were appalled by the cougar seducing the teenage boy. What bothered me was the premise (spoiler alert) that a woman would go to jail and spend most of her life there rather than admit that she couldn't read. I'm sorry, I don't get that, and I don't think Schlink does a very good job justifying this decision. Other than that, I had no problem with the book. Lovely prose.
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, January 19th. The stories, which are often over overlooked, were hauntingly effective. I still think of that one with the woman and the little doll that hunts and kills her and eventually takes over her body. The title novella struck me as intense and lonely, much more about the psychology of the last man on earth than the thrills and spills of a zombie/vampire story. Which leads me to the most stirring emotion, which was anger at the movie for robbing this wonderful story of its true meaning. I think they captured the loneliness and despair very well, but the ending of the story was so chilling and was so very betrayed by the movie's departure.
A Passage to India by E.M. Forster, January 25th. This was the second attempt at reading this novel. The first time I got as far as the day-trip to the caves before calling it quits, and upon my second try, was amazed and so grateful that I did read it again, since that is only the beginning of the real novel. The entire novel consists of English tourists trying to catch a glimpse of the "real" India in the colonial nineteenth century. I believe the message of this to novel is that no one knows the "real" India, and that you are far more likely to never find it, or be repulsed by it once you do. The book ends with the main characters more divided than when they started, mostly because the result of the imperial class system. I think Forster was trying to say that India and England can never understand one another as long as one is subservient to the other. I liked glimpsing another side of India. In college I had known Hindu Indians and Sheiks, but never Muslim Indians, which is kind of a rare perspective, and very well portrayed.
"This pose of 'seeing India' which had seduced him to Miss Quested at Chandrapore was only a form of ruling India; no sympathy lay behind it; he knew exactly what was going on in the boat as the party gazed at the steps down which the image would presently descend, and debated how near they might row without getting in trouble officially." p. 306
Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde, January 26th. The sequel to The Eyre Affair and as equally forgettable.
Empress Orchid by Anchee Min, February 4th. I have read another account of Empress Tzu Hsi, namely Imperial Woman by Pearl S. Buck, which is one of my favorite of her books, and so I wanted to see how this one compared. Frankly I was a little disappointed. The writing is nothing special, I didn't ever feel transported to another world, and the narrative skips about a little randomly.
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe; Life, the Universe, and Everything; So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams [January 2nd, 3rd and 4th.] That's right, I spent New Year's reading! Didn't have anything to do yet, since I was just out of college and jobless. I didn't even have furniture in my apartment yet. I picked the warmest corner of the bedroom and camped out on the floor. Which is what made these follow-ups to the wildly popular Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe (which I had read New Year's Eve) so appropriate. There's nothing like the fantastic to take your mind off humdrum reality, and a bare apartment and no job is about as humdrum and real as it gets.
The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde, January 10th. Like I said, nothing to do. This book was recommended to me by a friend. I was trying to get into new literature, and this wasn't a bad try. Interesting in the kind of light chicklit fad of our times. It certainly was literary in its references, but still stands out in my mind as why I shouldn't write, in case this is the best I can do. Too harsh?
The Road by Cormac McCarthy, January 11th. Cannot say enough about this book. McCarthy is one of my favorite new writers. I loved No Country for Old Men, and look forward to reading more of his work. His writing is everything I wish mine could be: taut, evocative, seamless. The story is very gripping, although the friend I bored the book from said she "couldn't get into it". She's a very optimistic person, though. I could see this book weighing her down. It scared the shit out of me!
Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Merisha Pessl, January 15th. I remember liking this book when I read it, although I can't remember anything extraordinary about it now. I think I liked the style of the book, how it starts every chapter with a piece of literature from her "reading list" that is obtusely related to the contents of the chapters. But the plot was far-fetched and contrived, the characters wildly unappealing, including the apparent criminal father, victim teacher and most of all, the clique-ish frenemies: The Hills meets Eton. I do remember looking at the author's picture on the back cover and finding her wildly attractive.
The Reader Bernhard Schlink, January 19. A bizarre book, although I don't think I disliked it for the reason most people did. I think most people were appalled by the cougar seducing the teenage boy. What bothered me was the premise (spoiler alert) that a woman would go to jail and spend most of her life there rather than admit that she couldn't read. I'm sorry, I don't get that, and I don't think Schlink does a very good job justifying this decision. Other than that, I had no problem with the book. Lovely prose.
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, January 19th. The stories, which are often over overlooked, were hauntingly effective. I still think of that one with the woman and the little doll that hunts and kills her and eventually takes over her body. The title novella struck me as intense and lonely, much more about the psychology of the last man on earth than the thrills and spills of a zombie/vampire story. Which leads me to the most stirring emotion, which was anger at the movie for robbing this wonderful story of its true meaning. I think they captured the loneliness and despair very well, but the ending of the story was so chilling and was so very betrayed by the movie's departure.
A Passage to India by E.M. Forster, January 25th. This was the second attempt at reading this novel. The first time I got as far as the day-trip to the caves before calling it quits, and upon my second try, was amazed and so grateful that I did read it again, since that is only the beginning of the real novel. The entire novel consists of English tourists trying to catch a glimpse of the "real" India in the colonial nineteenth century. I believe the message of this to novel is that no one knows the "real" India, and that you are far more likely to never find it, or be repulsed by it once you do. The book ends with the main characters more divided than when they started, mostly because the result of the imperial class system. I think Forster was trying to say that India and England can never understand one another as long as one is subservient to the other. I liked glimpsing another side of India. In college I had known Hindu Indians and Sheiks, but never Muslim Indians, which is kind of a rare perspective, and very well portrayed.
"This pose of 'seeing India' which had seduced him to Miss Quested at Chandrapore was only a form of ruling India; no sympathy lay behind it; he knew exactly what was going on in the boat as the party gazed at the steps down which the image would presently descend, and debated how near they might row without getting in trouble officially." p. 306
Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde, January 26th. The sequel to The Eyre Affair and as equally forgettable.
Empress Orchid by Anchee Min, February 4th. I have read another account of Empress Tzu Hsi, namely Imperial Woman by Pearl S. Buck, which is one of my favorite of her books, and so I wanted to see how this one compared. Frankly I was a little disappointed. The writing is nothing special, I didn't ever feel transported to another world, and the narrative skips about a little randomly.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)