by Terry Brooks
Part of the way genre fiction works is by providing the reader a predictable set of formulas spiced by inventive window dressing. For example, mystery: Someone dies within the first two chapters, the investigative protagonist investigates the physical evidence (body/ scene), talks to potential suspects, is distracted by irrelevant details, but in the end finds the vital clue and solves the case. Most (not all) mystery novels work off this basic formula. There are some variations and certainly the genre has evolved since its early popularity in the mid 1800's, but the basic structure remains pretty consistent.
Fantasy stories don't break down as nicely but there are a number of common elements. 1. The setting is always based off a real world time period, but with magic. Most popular is the idealized medieval settings but recent trends stretch to modern magical settings that are quite satisfying as well. 2. Magic is systematized in some way. Whether or not the author explains the rules to the reader is irrelevant, there's always a set of rules for the use of magic. 3. Non-human intelligent species (elves, orcs, telepathic horses, etc.) are optional but frequently present. 4. The protagonists are young, usually ranging between 12 and late 20's. The reason for this, I believe, is target demographics. Historically fantasy novels were mostly read by adolescent boys and most protagonists were adolescent boys. When girls started reading more fantasy novels more female protagonists appeared. As a genre, fantasy is quite marketing-minded. Sometimes younger protagonists appear but they almost never stray older.
Now that I've laid out the rules, it's important to realize that some of the most satisfying specimens of any genre deliberately break at least one of the rules. It all goes back to that old adage about how the rules can always be broken but first you have to really know the rules. Terry Brooks is more popularly known for his Shannara series which are extraordinarily Tolkien-esque. They aren't bad books. I quite enjoyed them. However, they follow the well trod path of underdog crossing continents to acquire the magic whosit-whatsit that will vanquish the big bad evil whats-the-name but only after nearly giving it all up to spend a quiet life raising pigs, thatching roofs, or some other equally mundane job. Perfectly readable and perfectly formulaic. Magic Kingdom for Sale is the book written after the first three Shannara books. So if the Shannara books demonstrate that Brooks knows all the rule, I shouldn't have been surprised to find him breaking rules in this book.
I was surprised though. This is one of a spare handful of fantasy novels featuring an older protagonist. Ben Holiday is 40. He's rich. He's a successful lawyer. He's not the genre rules approved protagonist. However, Brooks provided Ben with a good reason to want to leave it all behind and buy his very own magic kingdom. Which he does. However, there are some previously undisclosed problems with his new-bought kingdom.
While this is a slow starter and I struggled a little to get into it, I found it a most enjoyable read. Ben is a most sympathetic protagonist who's mile wide stubborn streak makes him believable and endearing. The supporting cast of characters are a fun hodge-podge of mismatched personalities and human failings.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
26. The Day I Swapped my Dad for Two Goldfish
Written by Neil Gaiman and Illustrated by Dave McKean
I read a fair bit of YA lit. Well done YA material isn't all that different than "adult" literature really. When I read YA lit I review it because a novel is a novel is a novel. However, I tend to draw the line at children's picture books. Sure they are stories and the artwork can be interesting, but there isn't usually much to comment on. I know there are people out there who review picture books on a regular basis and more power to them.
So, this is a children's book. It's the story of a boy who swaps his dad for two goldfish. Shocker given the title I know. Like I said, not a whole lot to say about the plot. The reason I'm reviewing this is because it happens to be written by one of the authors I follow, Neil Gaiman. It's a cute little story but not the typical Gaiman whimsey. The illustrations are the typical chaotic lines over collage and mixed media that Dave McKean is known for.
So there you have it, my first children's book review.
I read a fair bit of YA lit. Well done YA material isn't all that different than "adult" literature really. When I read YA lit I review it because a novel is a novel is a novel. However, I tend to draw the line at children's picture books. Sure they are stories and the artwork can be interesting, but there isn't usually much to comment on. I know there are people out there who review picture books on a regular basis and more power to them.
So, this is a children's book. It's the story of a boy who swaps his dad for two goldfish. Shocker given the title I know. Like I said, not a whole lot to say about the plot. The reason I'm reviewing this is because it happens to be written by one of the authors I follow, Neil Gaiman. It's a cute little story but not the typical Gaiman whimsey. The illustrations are the typical chaotic lines over collage and mixed media that Dave McKean is known for.
So there you have it, my first children's book review.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
25. Lamb
by Christopher Moore
I have, on this site, heaped adoration on Christopher Moore before. As a general rule I really like his quirky dry sense of humor. He's so funny he's practically British.
All of Moore's books are a humorous treatment of something. This one is a new gospel. The gospel as told by Jesus's, who's real name is Joshua, best friend Levi, also known as Biff. Biff is a bit of an idiot but he knows an awful lot about the first 30 years of Jesus's life. Biff's narrative of Jesus's early training isn't particularly spiritual. It doesn't describe some deeper truth. It definitely is not going to revolutionize the way we look at Christianity. It is light-hearted, deeply funny, and even sweet at times.
This is not my favorite Moore novel, but it is fun.
I have, on this site, heaped adoration on Christopher Moore before. As a general rule I really like his quirky dry sense of humor. He's so funny he's practically British.
All of Moore's books are a humorous treatment of something. This one is a new gospel. The gospel as told by Jesus's, who's real name is Joshua, best friend Levi, also known as Biff. Biff is a bit of an idiot but he knows an awful lot about the first 30 years of Jesus's life. Biff's narrative of Jesus's early training isn't particularly spiritual. It doesn't describe some deeper truth. It definitely is not going to revolutionize the way we look at Christianity. It is light-hearted, deeply funny, and even sweet at times.
This is not my favorite Moore novel, but it is fun.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
24. Slumdog Millionaire
by Vikas Swarup
Originally published under the title Q&A, I read this book after watching the movie adaptation which made a sizable splash not too long ago. A lot of people come down on movie adaptations of novels. To a certain extent that's justified. A movie cannot present as much content over 2 hours as a novel can, even a relatively short one. So, just walking in the theater you know that the movie has to be different from the novel. There will often be omissions in the story or places where the movie glosses over things that the author spent considerable time on in the book. Occasionally, the movie will even change content. *gasp*
None of this means that the movie has to be bad or even a poor representation of the source material and I'm tired of people who go on rants about movie adaptations of novels. In some cases the movie is better than the source novel. (see: "The Thirteenth Warrior" vs. Crichton's Eaters of the Dead) Many times I find that the movie, while a different entity from the novel, is a good movie and honestly, as a lit teacher, if a movie adapation gets someone to read a book then hallelujah.
"Slumdog Millionaire" is a good revisioning of the novel and if you've watched the film, you've got a pretty good idea of the book. That's not to say the book isn't worth reading though. Swarup's novel is beautifully written. Ram Mohammad Thomas is a bright but uneducated man living in slums of India. When he manages to answer all the questions in a quiz show, the assumption is that Mr. Thomas must be a big fat cheater. To that end, Mr. Thomas explains question by question how events, some bizarre, in his life gave him the answers to these questions. The rest was just dumb luck. The structure is interesting. Each question is a chapter and the chapter starts out with a vignette from his life and ends with the question being asked in the quiz show. The questions jump around in Mr. Thomas's personal timeline, and even thought this could become quite confusing, Swarup masterfully gives the reader enough to quickly put it in context.
The biggest difference between the movie and the novel is a fully developed secondary plot thread that the movie just skipped all together. The movie dropped a lot of the dark elements in the novel and inserted a different set of dark elements. After reading the book and seeing the movie, it falls in the "different but equally good" category and I encourage anyone who watched the movie to seek out the novel.
Originally published under the title Q&A, I read this book after watching the movie adaptation which made a sizable splash not too long ago. A lot of people come down on movie adaptations of novels. To a certain extent that's justified. A movie cannot present as much content over 2 hours as a novel can, even a relatively short one. So, just walking in the theater you know that the movie has to be different from the novel. There will often be omissions in the story or places where the movie glosses over things that the author spent considerable time on in the book. Occasionally, the movie will even change content. *gasp*
None of this means that the movie has to be bad or even a poor representation of the source material and I'm tired of people who go on rants about movie adaptations of novels. In some cases the movie is better than the source novel. (see: "The Thirteenth Warrior" vs. Crichton's Eaters of the Dead) Many times I find that the movie, while a different entity from the novel, is a good movie and honestly, as a lit teacher, if a movie adapation gets someone to read a book then hallelujah.
"Slumdog Millionaire" is a good revisioning of the novel and if you've watched the film, you've got a pretty good idea of the book. That's not to say the book isn't worth reading though. Swarup's novel is beautifully written. Ram Mohammad Thomas is a bright but uneducated man living in slums of India. When he manages to answer all the questions in a quiz show, the assumption is that Mr. Thomas must be a big fat cheater. To that end, Mr. Thomas explains question by question how events, some bizarre, in his life gave him the answers to these questions. The rest was just dumb luck. The structure is interesting. Each question is a chapter and the chapter starts out with a vignette from his life and ends with the question being asked in the quiz show. The questions jump around in Mr. Thomas's personal timeline, and even thought this could become quite confusing, Swarup masterfully gives the reader enough to quickly put it in context.
The biggest difference between the movie and the novel is a fully developed secondary plot thread that the movie just skipped all together. The movie dropped a lot of the dark elements in the novel and inserted a different set of dark elements. After reading the book and seeing the movie, it falls in the "different but equally good" category and I encourage anyone who watched the movie to seek out the novel.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
23. Redwall
by Brian Jacques
Over the last few decades YA lit has undergone quite the revolution. A large number of new series have appeared and swept, not only through the youth, but through the general adult readers as well. The most obvious ones are the recent Harry Potter and Twilight series, but James Patterson's Maximum Ride series deserves some attention as well as the R.L. Stine books. On the earlier end of this recent influx was the Redwall series.
Redwall was initially published in 1986 but didn't receive a whole lot of attention until several years afterward. It was fairly popular through the 90's and early 2000's and was ultimately eclipsed by the Harry Potter series. Despite falling out of popularity, this is a series that deserves a more permanent place in the YA canon.
Redwall Abbey is home to a monastic order of peace loving mice. These mice are community leaders and healers much beloved by the smaller woodland mammals. When a maurading horde of evil rats come to take over the Abbey, these peace loving critters must learn to fight led by the most unlikely member of their order.
This is a delightful book. There are a lot of positive problem solving examples in there without it being trite or preachy. While it's clearly intended for a younger audience, it is still enjoyable to me as adult.
Over the last few decades YA lit has undergone quite the revolution. A large number of new series have appeared and swept, not only through the youth, but through the general adult readers as well. The most obvious ones are the recent Harry Potter and Twilight series, but James Patterson's Maximum Ride series deserves some attention as well as the R.L. Stine books. On the earlier end of this recent influx was the Redwall series.
Redwall was initially published in 1986 but didn't receive a whole lot of attention until several years afterward. It was fairly popular through the 90's and early 2000's and was ultimately eclipsed by the Harry Potter series. Despite falling out of popularity, this is a series that deserves a more permanent place in the YA canon.
Redwall Abbey is home to a monastic order of peace loving mice. These mice are community leaders and healers much beloved by the smaller woodland mammals. When a maurading horde of evil rats come to take over the Abbey, these peace loving critters must learn to fight led by the most unlikely member of their order.
This is a delightful book. There are a lot of positive problem solving examples in there without it being trite or preachy. While it's clearly intended for a younger audience, it is still enjoyable to me as adult.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
20-22. Lillith's Brood (trilogy)
By Octavia Butler
20. Dawn
21. Adulthood Rites
22. Imago
I like omnibuses. With a collection the size of mine, the more compact format is a vital space saver even if they are a little more difficult to physically handle. The real downside of an omnibus is that when closely related books are bound together, I find that they begin to blur together. And so, because I read these three books in one go as a part of an omnibus, I've decided to review them as one work.
Lillith's Brood is a three story arc centered around a set of related characters. A true science fiction story, Lillith's Brood presents an unusual idea of what would interstellar travelers really be like. We generally tend to think that aliens would not only look a lot like us but be motivated by things that motivate humans. Think Startrek or Star Wars. Even War of the Worlds involves aliens who want to dominate our world for its resources. Butler, by contrast, came up with a very alien extraterrestrial race. One who's motivations are unfathomable to us. On the one hand they save the human race from self destruction, but on the other hand they wish to destroy humans as humans by blending their genetic code with human genetic code and creating a new species. And they have the technological superiority to force the humans into this blending. Clearly, the human response was not entirely positive.
It really is an excellent series written by a master of the genre. This review cannot possibly hope to convey the worth of this work of literature.
20. Dawn
21. Adulthood Rites
22. Imago
I like omnibuses. With a collection the size of mine, the more compact format is a vital space saver even if they are a little more difficult to physically handle. The real downside of an omnibus is that when closely related books are bound together, I find that they begin to blur together. And so, because I read these three books in one go as a part of an omnibus, I've decided to review them as one work.
Lillith's Brood is a three story arc centered around a set of related characters. A true science fiction story, Lillith's Brood presents an unusual idea of what would interstellar travelers really be like. We generally tend to think that aliens would not only look a lot like us but be motivated by things that motivate humans. Think Startrek or Star Wars. Even War of the Worlds involves aliens who want to dominate our world for its resources. Butler, by contrast, came up with a very alien extraterrestrial race. One who's motivations are unfathomable to us. On the one hand they save the human race from self destruction, but on the other hand they wish to destroy humans as humans by blending their genetic code with human genetic code and creating a new species. And they have the technological superiority to force the humans into this blending. Clearly, the human response was not entirely positive.
It really is an excellent series written by a master of the genre. This review cannot possibly hope to convey the worth of this work of literature.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Apologies
I've noticed something about having summers off: I have terrible time sense. As it turns out, if I don't have a regular schedule imposed on me, I have tendency to forget what day it is and somehow I completely lost track of Tuesday. I rather suspect that Tuesday pulled a fast one and is off larking about with Saturday and Sunday. That's what comes of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday always getting the revelries. Even Monday gets the occasional bar-b-que. It was only a matter of time before one of the mid-week days to scarper off in a fit of resentment.
Nevertheless, I shall take responsibility for the wayward weekday and admit that I was ill-prepared for my Wednesday article which I am now writing nearly 15 hours late. I'm so sorry. Tuesday is also very sorry, I'm sure.
Now that that's settled, time is an interesting thing. We perceive the passage of time as an observable phenomenon only because something very predictable happens at set intervals. i.e. the passage of a full day is one period of light caused by the sun rising and one period of darkness caused by the sun setting. We further divide this thing we call a day into two units to match these observable intervals: day and night respectively. Moving into larger intervals we have seasons and years. All these things are observable phenomenons which is all well and good. Even I would be hard pressed to entirely miss the passage of summer.
It makes sense to have these divisions because we can observe them and are, to some degree, affected by them. What I don't get is some of the more arbitrary ones. For example, why 24 hours in a day? It's almost counter-intuitive. Humans tend to organize things naturally in sets of 10. So why not 20 hours in a day or even 30? I'm sure there is a historical reason, but that doesn't stop it from being arbitrary. The number of days in a year is dictated by the cosmos, inconveniently, at approximately 365.25 days in the year. Even assuming that accounting for that quarter of a day is always going to be an issue, why would we divide weeks into units of 7 days which doesn't divide evenly into 365? Why not weeks of 5 days? It's all so arbitrary.
I for one stand with Tuesday in protest of arbitrary time division. Those of you who wish to advocate in these sad strange days for rational marking of temporal progress, stand with me. Stand up and say no to the 24 hour day! Say no to the 7 day week! Stand with me! There will be a protest rally on the 5th Monday of July, 2011 at the 25th hour where I shall loudly and with much vigor rewrite the calendar into something more sensible. I hope to see you all there. Bring a clock alternative of your choice (I'm bringing my trusty adjustable hour glass.)
Nevertheless, I shall take responsibility for the wayward weekday and admit that I was ill-prepared for my Wednesday article which I am now writing nearly 15 hours late. I'm so sorry. Tuesday is also very sorry, I'm sure.
Now that that's settled, time is an interesting thing. We perceive the passage of time as an observable phenomenon only because something very predictable happens at set intervals. i.e. the passage of a full day is one period of light caused by the sun rising and one period of darkness caused by the sun setting. We further divide this thing we call a day into two units to match these observable intervals: day and night respectively. Moving into larger intervals we have seasons and years. All these things are observable phenomenons which is all well and good. Even I would be hard pressed to entirely miss the passage of summer.
It makes sense to have these divisions because we can observe them and are, to some degree, affected by them. What I don't get is some of the more arbitrary ones. For example, why 24 hours in a day? It's almost counter-intuitive. Humans tend to organize things naturally in sets of 10. So why not 20 hours in a day or even 30? I'm sure there is a historical reason, but that doesn't stop it from being arbitrary. The number of days in a year is dictated by the cosmos, inconveniently, at approximately 365.25 days in the year. Even assuming that accounting for that quarter of a day is always going to be an issue, why would we divide weeks into units of 7 days which doesn't divide evenly into 365? Why not weeks of 5 days? It's all so arbitrary.
I for one stand with Tuesday in protest of arbitrary time division. Those of you who wish to advocate in these sad strange days for rational marking of temporal progress, stand with me. Stand up and say no to the 24 hour day! Say no to the 7 day week! Stand with me! There will be a protest rally on the 5th Monday of July, 2011 at the 25th hour where I shall loudly and with much vigor rewrite the calendar into something more sensible. I hope to see you all there. Bring a clock alternative of your choice (I'm bringing my trusty adjustable hour glass.)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
19. Real Murders
by Charlaine Harris
Harris is better known these days for her Southern Vampire Series which has been adapted into an HBO series called "True Blood." I've read that entire series, aside from the newest, and although I found them fun, I didn't come away terribly impressed with Harris.
Later, I discovered that Harris had an earlier carrier as a midlist mystery writer. She has a couple other series going and it was only a matter of time before I tracked them down. Real Murders is the debut title for the Aurora Teagarden series. This is a straight up mystery series. There are no vampires, ghosts, or paranormal powers of any kind. Nor was there any racy sex, though the possibility exists for some title later down the line.
Real Murders is also a much better book than any of the Southern Vampire Series. The mystery is well plotted, all of the characters behave in reasonable ways, and I didn't find myself working for the suspension of disbelief. This leads me to conclude that Harris, as much as I enjoy Sookie Stackhouse and her tawdry vampire love triangles, needs to go back to mystery writing.
The protagonist, Aurora Teagarden, is a young librarian with a mousey dresscode and a significant lack of ambition. She has her routines and her books. She also is a member of a club called "Real Murders" which is a group of people obsessed with the study of real crimes. The action starts when people connected to club members are murdered in ways that mimic famous murders. Events send long time friends through a maze of suspicion and doubt.
It's good. The ultimate resolution makes sense and fits the facts as they are presented. While it could of used a little more groundwork to really sell the perps as villains, it's a minor concern.
Harris is better known these days for her Southern Vampire Series which has been adapted into an HBO series called "True Blood." I've read that entire series, aside from the newest, and although I found them fun, I didn't come away terribly impressed with Harris.
Later, I discovered that Harris had an earlier carrier as a midlist mystery writer. She has a couple other series going and it was only a matter of time before I tracked them down. Real Murders is the debut title for the Aurora Teagarden series. This is a straight up mystery series. There are no vampires, ghosts, or paranormal powers of any kind. Nor was there any racy sex, though the possibility exists for some title later down the line.
Real Murders is also a much better book than any of the Southern Vampire Series. The mystery is well plotted, all of the characters behave in reasonable ways, and I didn't find myself working for the suspension of disbelief. This leads me to conclude that Harris, as much as I enjoy Sookie Stackhouse and her tawdry vampire love triangles, needs to go back to mystery writing.
The protagonist, Aurora Teagarden, is a young librarian with a mousey dresscode and a significant lack of ambition. She has her routines and her books. She also is a member of a club called "Real Murders" which is a group of people obsessed with the study of real crimes. The action starts when people connected to club members are murdered in ways that mimic famous murders. Events send long time friends through a maze of suspicion and doubt.
It's good. The ultimate resolution makes sense and fits the facts as they are presented. While it could of used a little more groundwork to really sell the perps as villains, it's a minor concern.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
18. Casino Royale
by Ian Fleming
People in my generation grew up knowing who James Bond is. He was part of the cultural fabric in the United States despite being a very British character. So when I picked up Casino Royale, the first of Fleming's Bond series, I thought I knew what to expect.
I was expecting the calm sophisticated smooth operator of the movies. Someone dashing and in charge. I was expecting the James Bond of the movies. Fleming's Bond, as written, does superficially resemble the movie Bond: physically attractive, calm under stress, drinks gin cocktails. However, there's a misogynistic streak in the books that I wasn't expecting.
The movies were never what I'd call pro-woman being as they were full of overly endowed pin-up girls fawning over Bond. Not exactly strong feminine role-models, but the movies are silly and it's largely harmless. Casino Royale actually strays into genuine woman hating which isn't something I expected. There is even profligate mention of women as "bitches."
Every way that Bond is broken is the fault of a woman, and that is the story of Casino Royale. This book is the set up for the entire series. It explains Bond's drive and his focus. It gives him a reason to do what he does. While it makes Bond a more three dimensional character, it also makes him much less likable.
While I'll probably get around to reading the rest of the series, this is a case where I think the movies are better.
People in my generation grew up knowing who James Bond is. He was part of the cultural fabric in the United States despite being a very British character. So when I picked up Casino Royale, the first of Fleming's Bond series, I thought I knew what to expect.
I was expecting the calm sophisticated smooth operator of the movies. Someone dashing and in charge. I was expecting the James Bond of the movies. Fleming's Bond, as written, does superficially resemble the movie Bond: physically attractive, calm under stress, drinks gin cocktails. However, there's a misogynistic streak in the books that I wasn't expecting.
The movies were never what I'd call pro-woman being as they were full of overly endowed pin-up girls fawning over Bond. Not exactly strong feminine role-models, but the movies are silly and it's largely harmless. Casino Royale actually strays into genuine woman hating which isn't something I expected. There is even profligate mention of women as "bitches."
Every way that Bond is broken is the fault of a woman, and that is the story of Casino Royale. This book is the set up for the entire series. It explains Bond's drive and his focus. It gives him a reason to do what he does. While it makes Bond a more three dimensional character, it also makes him much less likable.
While I'll probably get around to reading the rest of the series, this is a case where I think the movies are better.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Regional Differences
Between Ellsworth, Maine and Utica, New York is a veritable maze of toll roads. The tolls range between $0.25 and $6.10. A quick scan of the toll cards tells me that there are ways of racking up more than $10 at a time on some of these roads. This must be a New England thing.
It's not that toll roads don't exist in the Midwest or the South East. They do. There's the Ohio turnpike for one and an easily avoided $0.50 toll on GA 400 in Atlanta. I'm sure there must be others. However, in New England, it seems possibly to hop directly from one toll road to the next. Pulling out the wallet and digging for change is as much a feature of the trip as lobster rolls and motels.
At one point we even follow signs for a rest stop off of a non-toll highway which landed us on toll road that we left (after paying the toll). At this rest stop was a full-service gas station. I didn't even know these things existed anymore. After getting gassed up and tipping the attendant, we paid the toll again to get back on the road that we had just left. Only somehow during the time we spent at the gas station, the road that had not been a toll road, now was a toll road.
Thus is the joy of travel in New England.
It's not that toll roads don't exist in the Midwest or the South East. They do. There's the Ohio turnpike for one and an easily avoided $0.50 toll on GA 400 in Atlanta. I'm sure there must be others. However, in New England, it seems possibly to hop directly from one toll road to the next. Pulling out the wallet and digging for change is as much a feature of the trip as lobster rolls and motels.
At one point we even follow signs for a rest stop off of a non-toll highway which landed us on toll road that we left (after paying the toll). At this rest stop was a full-service gas station. I didn't even know these things existed anymore. After getting gassed up and tipping the attendant, we paid the toll again to get back on the road that we had just left. Only somehow during the time we spent at the gas station, the road that had not been a toll road, now was a toll road.
Thus is the joy of travel in New England.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
17. Timbuktu
by Paul Auster
Being a big reader, I find it a somewhat common phenomenon to get books handed to me on loan by various people in my life. As a general rule, I tend to put other things on hold and read them as soon as I can get to them. Otherwise I end up with a lot of books floating around that I know don't belong to me but I can't remember who they belong to. (If I have any of your books hostage, dear readers, please let me know and I'll organize a release and the first possible opportunity.)
This book came to me by way of my mother and, since she admonished me against walking off with it, I settled down and read it almost immediately. I freely admit that I tend to take a dim view of animal POVs (Point of View) outside of kids books. Generally, animal POVs end up overly sentimental and saccharine. No matter how smart a pooch is, it doesn't understand string theory or the content of Paul's letters. It can't think as abstractly as we do and, while I know my cats love me in their own furry little ways, I don't make the mistake of thinking they wouldn't abandon me for the promise of a kitty treat next Tuesday. Trying to write a book from an animal's POV is extraordinarily difficult to pull off.
So, when I realized that the book my mother handed me was completely in doggy POV, I sighed a little on the inside and resolved to slog through it for my Mom's sake. Paul Auster was already on my greater list of authors to eventually check out anyway.
Given my views, I cannot express how shocked I was to enjoy Timbuktu. Auster made his protagonist, Mr. Bones, a believable doggy character while still sympathetic. While I don't necessarily like how the story ends I have to concede that it's a good ending. Mr. Bones's first owner is a guy named Willy. Willy is not what one would call mentally stable. In fact, at a guess, I'd say he's a manic depressive with extreme paranoid tendencies. However, the reader gets to see Willy through the filter of Mr. Bones's eyes. Although often bewildered by Willy, Mr. Bones was devoted in a way that only a dog could be. When Willy dies, Mr. Bones tries to adjust to a world without his protector.
It's a sweet story of devotion that stops just shy of cavity land. Auster pulled off the pooch-centric POV with aplomb. I remain an official unfan of the ending but the story as a whole is worth a read.
Being a big reader, I find it a somewhat common phenomenon to get books handed to me on loan by various people in my life. As a general rule, I tend to put other things on hold and read them as soon as I can get to them. Otherwise I end up with a lot of books floating around that I know don't belong to me but I can't remember who they belong to. (If I have any of your books hostage, dear readers, please let me know and I'll organize a release and the first possible opportunity.)
This book came to me by way of my mother and, since she admonished me against walking off with it, I settled down and read it almost immediately. I freely admit that I tend to take a dim view of animal POVs (Point of View) outside of kids books. Generally, animal POVs end up overly sentimental and saccharine. No matter how smart a pooch is, it doesn't understand string theory or the content of Paul's letters. It can't think as abstractly as we do and, while I know my cats love me in their own furry little ways, I don't make the mistake of thinking they wouldn't abandon me for the promise of a kitty treat next Tuesday. Trying to write a book from an animal's POV is extraordinarily difficult to pull off.
So, when I realized that the book my mother handed me was completely in doggy POV, I sighed a little on the inside and resolved to slog through it for my Mom's sake. Paul Auster was already on my greater list of authors to eventually check out anyway.
Given my views, I cannot express how shocked I was to enjoy Timbuktu. Auster made his protagonist, Mr. Bones, a believable doggy character while still sympathetic. While I don't necessarily like how the story ends I have to concede that it's a good ending. Mr. Bones's first owner is a guy named Willy. Willy is not what one would call mentally stable. In fact, at a guess, I'd say he's a manic depressive with extreme paranoid tendencies. However, the reader gets to see Willy through the filter of Mr. Bones's eyes. Although often bewildered by Willy, Mr. Bones was devoted in a way that only a dog could be. When Willy dies, Mr. Bones tries to adjust to a world without his protector.
It's a sweet story of devotion that stops just shy of cavity land. Auster pulled off the pooch-centric POV with aplomb. I remain an official unfan of the ending but the story as a whole is worth a read.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
16. Her Fearful Symmetry
by Audrey Niffenegger
Niffenegger exploded into the literature scene with her first novel The Time Traveler's Wife which my dad lent me after he read it himself. This first novel was remarkable but not for the reasons that many people thought. The idea was not terribly unique nor was the specific premise a new take on it. What it was was a story that was told on its own terms. The author got out of the way and was a vehicle for a story that was both a tragedy and a representation of human mortality. Its strangeness was its beauty and it ended the only way it could. The exquisiteness of the emotion of the characters were never forced and I don't know a single person who read the book and had a single negative thing to say about it.
That's a rare thing. We humans love to criticize things.
It's not the kind of thing that is easy to follow up. In fact, I will even go so far as to say that it is impossible to follow it up. The Time Traveler's Wife is a masterpiece of literature. So, when Her Fearful Symmetry was published, I expected the backlash that the book received. It's not as good as her first novel. It's just not. However, it does not deserve the panning its received by many readers.
Here is the book I would have expected to see from Niffenegger first and if it had been published first, it would probably have been received well. Is it flawed? Absolutely, but not as badly as so many think.
Her Fearful Symmetry focuses on the sometimes eerie relationship between identical twins. It's clear from the novel that Niffenegger had a clear vision of her six main characters and the central secret behind their sometimes bizarre interactions. It's also pretty clear that Niffenegger had difficulty finding an ending. The resolution that she provides does feel forced, as many people noted. It's not a horrible ending, it's just not the poetic beauty her readers came to expect after first book.
However, the characters are wonderful and enticing. Even though they have faults, I genuinely liked them all. I watched the tragedy build and it felt right that these people would set themselves up like that. While I agree the story took a wrong turn about two thirds through, Niffenegger did not make the mistake of trying to 'save' her characters from themselves. If anything, she envisioned a resolution that was even more grim then it needed to be. This, I feel, is a much more forgivable error to make.
Despite the flaws, this is a book well worth reading.
Niffenegger exploded into the literature scene with her first novel The Time Traveler's Wife which my dad lent me after he read it himself. This first novel was remarkable but not for the reasons that many people thought. The idea was not terribly unique nor was the specific premise a new take on it. What it was was a story that was told on its own terms. The author got out of the way and was a vehicle for a story that was both a tragedy and a representation of human mortality. Its strangeness was its beauty and it ended the only way it could. The exquisiteness of the emotion of the characters were never forced and I don't know a single person who read the book and had a single negative thing to say about it.
That's a rare thing. We humans love to criticize things.
It's not the kind of thing that is easy to follow up. In fact, I will even go so far as to say that it is impossible to follow it up. The Time Traveler's Wife is a masterpiece of literature. So, when Her Fearful Symmetry was published, I expected the backlash that the book received. It's not as good as her first novel. It's just not. However, it does not deserve the panning its received by many readers.
Here is the book I would have expected to see from Niffenegger first and if it had been published first, it would probably have been received well. Is it flawed? Absolutely, but not as badly as so many think.
Her Fearful Symmetry focuses on the sometimes eerie relationship between identical twins. It's clear from the novel that Niffenegger had a clear vision of her six main characters and the central secret behind their sometimes bizarre interactions. It's also pretty clear that Niffenegger had difficulty finding an ending. The resolution that she provides does feel forced, as many people noted. It's not a horrible ending, it's just not the poetic beauty her readers came to expect after first book.
However, the characters are wonderful and enticing. Even though they have faults, I genuinely liked them all. I watched the tragedy build and it felt right that these people would set themselves up like that. While I agree the story took a wrong turn about two thirds through, Niffenegger did not make the mistake of trying to 'save' her characters from themselves. If anything, she envisioned a resolution that was even more grim then it needed to be. This, I feel, is a much more forgivable error to make.
Despite the flaws, this is a book well worth reading.
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