Well, I do really like winning Early Reviewers books. Unfortunately, I really didn't like reading this one.
These essays are almost unbearably dry. NotWell, I do really like winning Early Reviewers books. Unfortunately, I really didn't like reading this one.
These essays are almost unbearably dry. Not like Hugh Laurie is dry, but like Prohibition was dry. It reads a little like someone writing a college paper. (How to fill up another half a page? Let me restate my themes.) Other times the level of detail is like reading someone's journal. You always think you want to read someone's journal, but really, it's boring.
Generally, there is a problem with artistry. He dumps in quoted dictionary definitions more than once, in order to state, this describes me perfectly. Which may be accurate, but the problem is that there's nothing at all literary about that. Why write it? Why mention it if you don't want to say anything about it yourself? He also block quotes extensively from friends' emails, which just seems weird, in order to sort of back up what he's been saying. It's like he's challenging us: See?
The central story about his friend who has died is the nicest one, and I did like reading it. It even had a line that struck me: "With an inner shudder of tenderness, I recognized the squalid surroundings framed in the snapshot." Not all of the writing makes so much sense, though. Sometimes, even when he's explaining something, he states the obvious to a stultifying degree. "Our sadness was for a lost friend, or boyfriend, whose memory also had become intertwined with nostalgia for our youth, who was frozen in our minds in our teenage years in New York in the seventies and eighties." What is this, SEO?
A lot of this book is about his troubles and fears in his very bad neighborhood growing up, when the East Village (around Avenue C) was in terrible shape and filled with drug crime. I confess, I was impressed by the photos of blocks of rubbled apartment buildings in the area. I didn't imagine it so drastically. As a kid, he was mugged there about once a year, though he makes it sound like it was every day. I'm sure it was really scary every day, but something about his approach to explaining his feelings about this just makes you want to nitpick. Somehow what he's written sounds ignorant and defensive, as if we won't believe him -- which, makes a reader want to doubt him.
Also? The perspective is a little bit racist. Not every reader may agree with that, but I wasn't super comfortable. I recognize it is sensitive to describe facts involving race, like the environment in which you live and the descriptions of people who attacked you. I don't think it's wrong to write about or specify, but I suppose I just don't like the way Karlen does so. At best, he mentions non-white people at an arms-length separation, and at worst makes it sound like really it would be nicer for him if their culture didn't exist at all, because it scares or alienates him. They're not all gangsters of course, but he would just be more comfortable if they weren't all speaking other languages, or playing music with horns in it. How do they think that makes him feel?
There are some other really unflattering stories, like the one about his first girlfriend -- which I liked, until it got all stalkery -- and the one about being a surly tourist in Peru. The thing is, he tells these stories with some perspective, such as saying he made a mistake or had a bad attitude. But there isn't much more framing than that. He isn't acknowledging how that impacted anything, and so I'm figuring he's not too interested. For such a self-described artist, punk, and bohemian, this man sounds so unenlightened. Why do I feel more enlightened than him? He's the author of this book. What's wrong here?
There is a funny element wherein he reminisces at length about Homer's diner (in the 1980s), which used to be across from my school (in the 2000s). Meg and I discovered it during our sophomore year, I think, and spent a lot of lunch breaks there, and then when we came back junior year, it had closed over the summer and we felt like we'd let it die while school was out. I think it was junior year. See: if I was the author, I would write now about, why don't I remember what year it was? How funny that so many years go by and all I remember are the cheese blintzes that were the bad kind you could get frozen at the grocery store, but I don't remember what we were saying or what we were wearing. How many other cheese blintzes have I forgotten? I left my office and stumbled out into the rain to Sixth Avenue, driven to revisit the block where the restaurant had stood, not knowing what I was seeking, finding only an upscale bistro where once I had sat in my thrifted clothing. Memory makes you remember.
There's just many weirdly elementary conclusions of this kind. The opening piece almost did me in. Did you know the 1960s can be defined in many ways, but particularly by the Beatles? It's... true. In another one, the comparison, "as though they were lining Times Square temples devoted not to Apollo or Bacchus, but to Mars or Ares." To... the...? MARS AND ARES ARE THE SAME ONE. OMG seriously. "Where were the heathen pageants and orgiastic fertility dances?" I... it hurts.
However. Another star, because some of this is genuinely thoughtful, and Karlen cares about what he's saying. And because I like New York so much, I like the Village, I like the period and what details Karlen can offer of it. I like people's struggles with memory in general and NYC's constant, unsettled changes in particular. They're rich conflicts for a book. And I will be very happy to read another, different book about them, by somebody else, also. ...more
This book was a present from Meg, who told me she thought it was interesting to read short stories by an expert in the form. And it is, and I don't doThis book was a present from Meg, who told me she thought it was interesting to read short stories by an expert in the form. And it is, and I don't do it a lot.
Generally I really enjoyed this collection, and at times it felt revelatory. Then I began to wonder if I was hoodwinked, because sometimes I get hoodwinked, as the last clump of stories at the end is not that awesome, and I started to feel frowny-face.
But it's ok. I dog-eared a lot of pages that were so smart or lovely I knew I'd have to reread them. And the overall cool and sympathetic tone, the decades-old settings, it's a comfort to read.
The stuff:
"The Love of a Good Woman": Thumbs mostly up. I didn't like it in the beginning with the boys and the body and the Wobegon-ish small town. But once we're in the nurse's portion it's just wonderful. I didn't really like the little trick at the end, but a lot of great things are felt in the middle.
"Jakarta": Thumbs totally up. The portion in the past is so good, the women's friendship, and the long party scene when you know everything will change. I liked anticipating the present's resolution, finding out what happened. I thought of all kinds of possibilities, which says how much I liked the characters.
"Cortes Island": Thumbs mainly up. I liked the characterization and the conflict with the lonely, prideful landlady. The tone of portent and the dark revelation, eh. The mystery was too ambiguous, I didn't really understand. The ending, though, about the dreams, oh that's beautiful.
"Save the Reaper": Thumbs up. The perspective is affecting, and the situation they accidentally get into is well creepy. The little grandson's foreboding was good, that he knew they shouldn't go. The dangerous girl set up all the right kinds of questions to think about when it's over.
"The Children Stay": Thumbs real up. The affair is both distressing and romantic. It also was funny to see a play I read and really hated used well metaphorically.
"Rich as Stink": Thumbs down. The adults' characterization was really well cut, but the story didn't do much. Way, way, way too symbolism-laden. And then just, well now I have made something tragic happen, the end.
"Before the Change": Thumbs down. A good musing on an intimidating adult father-child relationship, but I didn't like anything about the story. The fake epistolary thing, the overwrought maternity theme (and eh abortion controversy), the not entirely believable backstory. On the nose.
"My Mother's Dream": Thumbs sideways. I actually did like the story part of the story, but this one just isn't very beautiful or insightful as the others are. It's the only story that didn't compel me to turn down a page corner so I could reread something later. And the narration is a little odd. But I liked reading about what the mother thought and went through, and how the big event made her feel.
There are so many beautiful parts throughout that I'm happy to round this one up....more
**spoiler alert** At last, my Hunger Games rant. Finally a book worthy of it.
I've had a lot of problems with this series since the first book, but I h**spoiler alert** At last, my Hunger Games rant. Finally a book worthy of it.
I've had a lot of problems with this series since the first book, but I hung in there in case it turned out to be great. Didn't work. We're just not compatible. We should date other books. Before the first book even came out, I read a fluffy review and knew I didn't like the concept. I said before that I don't see what the Hunger Games mean or why they would ever happen or why they should scare us, and I still feel that way. The whole concept feels meaningless, no motivations make sense, and nothing rings true.
The books are moderately exciting, but really, it's like girl-power war wish-fulfillment. "You're going to be the best-dressed rebel in history." MY EYE, IT NEEDS A FORK FOR IT.
I like fantasy/sci-fi/dystopias and I like YA, but sometimes I listen to people get all flippery over something just because it has werewolves or something in it, and I wonder what that is about. That's awesomeness? I guess? I don't think that all by itself it is awesome. So when someone describes Collins's books by saying, "A wall of fire!" or something... I don't understand. These books are full of dangerous traps and clever-ish horrible ways to die, but to majorly mix my genres for a second, it all reminds me of something a friend said once about Susan Stroman choreography: it's just tricks.
Because the story doesn't make sense. The connective tissue isn't present. The rebel president sent your brainwashed ex-boyfriend to kill you? I guess that's a... plot. Or something. But why? Why anything? Why did Katniss vote yes to more games? Why was she willing to desert her brigade of friends and strand them without a map in a lethal warzone? Technically all these things have reasons, but none of it makes sense.
But see, I was behind the first half of this book! Did Collins send the second half to a freelancer from the old BSC farm or something? Because I swear I liked it before. The Mockingjay stuff kinda worked. The bomb bunker was pretty exciting. The rescue of the prisoners was very exciting, if off-screen. And then... literally everything that happened after Peeta came back was bad. So bad I considered one-starring this, except that the beginning was better.
I have as many doubts about the author's choices as about the characters' choices. Why so much "off-screen" action? Hasn't she read a book with a limited narrator before? Why couldn't there be another way to see the rescues, or the end of the war, the chaos of the new country? Why is she barely interested in describing the weapons she invents (like the mutts hunting Katniss that should be scary), or the world, or the point of its history? Is she contracted to write prequels or something? These people don't belong in real life. They say they've seen things, but they don't act like they have any context at all.
I'm disappointed by the personal relationships, even leaving out the double-boyfriend drama. The sister stuff was a huge letdown by the end of the books. It's the whole impetus for the series, stepping up to save her sister, and that was moving as heroism in the first book and we understood that Katniss was strong enough to do it because she was already doing it, taking responsibility to keep her sister fed and shielded from their mother's weakness (though their mother is forgiven). As a girl with a little sister I've sacrificed things to protect, I kind of get that, and yet, then Prim has virtually no impact in the second book, and then in this book she sounds really cool, but we never see her. So, harm coming to her is both unearned and unhelpful.
I also think the author is horrible with names, supposedly the great indulgence of every fantasy writer, but hers are so clunky and stupid. Sometimes they're so silly, it's confusing: you've seriously got both a Fulvia and a Flavius? Pollux the Avox? And I think Katniss is a crappy name. I DO. I hate the literalist surnames, like Coin. "The Seam" sounds bad whenever she says it. So does "propo". And I can't even describe how much the nation name Panem irks me. The irking. Reading it all is damn annoying. An author that's bad with words.
Also, um, is everyone left in this world white? It just seems like every single person is white. Race in YA is getting such a major critique these days, I'm surprised I haven't heard anyone complain. And Collins uses such tiiiiired, tired conventions of segregating elementary cultures to each district -- they're from the seafaring district, they have a fishing net at their wedding!!! -- that I'm actually kind of surprised there isn't a "noble black people district" and a "feisty tortilla-making district". (What? Bread includes tortillas.)
I just don't think these books have any staying power. It's ok if they're blockbusters. But I'm not gonna say that they're fantastic, because they aren't at all.
Well, I really hate when this criticism is used -- I technically disapprove -- but: this seems like "student work". It just dI own a copy of this? Ok.
Well, I really hate when this criticism is used -- I technically disapprove -- but: this seems like "student work". It just does. It works at the level of, this is a play and it shakes out an ending. Even a thematic thread, or at least something repeated often enough to appear to be a theme. And it plots a lot of characters sufficiently.
But the ingredients don't blend. They're like a kid "baking" in the kitchen. The actions and statements of all the people are random and strange, and that's not my preferred style of theater. There's a bit of willful freak-show ick factor, which is one of my least favorite devices in theater also. Some of the humor would be funny with benefit of actors, but some of it totally not. And I guess Gene is the main character, but he's so insignificant he barely even belongs there.
Also I have no clue whether we're seeing the wallpaper devil on stage or not. Did I miss a direction? I thought it was imaginary until it "stormed in" or whatever. I'd like to be clear on that, since Brad's unscrewing was the most interesting.
It's all right. I only read this while I was waiting for Chris to finish Mockingjay anyway....more
Apparently we have had this book for like two years. Um thanks Meg! I will bring it back now.
I don't exactly see what's not to like here. It's a good Apparently we have had this book for like two years. Um thanks Meg! I will bring it back now.
I don't exactly see what's not to like here. It's a good fight and it's good canon. And it's rather funny. I guess I'm kicking off an extra star mostly because the atmospheric elements just aren't my favorites. If it weren't for the snappy Whedon dialogue it would feel just like dozens of other comics, and mostly I prefer comics that stand out. And here not a lot does. Lots of grubbiness. A few weird creatures. Tough-livin' heroine. Some good some bad. Not too much depth below the surface of the setting.
I guess one of the difficult things here is that Melaka is just pretty solitary -- and slayers do always feel solitary, but not to us, they don't. And so we've got a little bit of Mel, who mostly is just hardness, and a little bit of backstory, which is really just one sliver. And Joss is usually thorough in his concepts, but we don't know when or why this setting. Where'd this society come from? How's it work? The back cover says this is Manhattan, but really, says who? Where?
This unknown severed history does work ok with the idea that the slayers' line is starting again after a really long time of quiet. I like the idea that the way we expect it to work isn't really going to be how it works. And I could get behind the exploration of the unique idea of a slayer's twin, though this story was set up pretty black-and-white. Her little neighbor is cute. I kinda liked the fish.
It's a decent offshoot. I'm interested to see how she turns up in Season 8. I'm glad to have read this before I get there....more
From Emily. She told me she likes to read this whenever she wants to feel happy, which is a pretty great recommendation.
I don't read many stories of tFrom Emily. She told me she likes to read this whenever she wants to feel happy, which is a pretty great recommendation.
I don't read many stories of this age, middle grade books where the protagonist is about 12. Cedar is an adorable one, with about ten zillion things to say. A lot of it is really funny (personal favorite: "I've got better things to do than care about someone's traditional wedding drama") and some of it makes sort of a funny way of describing when she gets upset ("my mind feeling heavy and complicated like a broken-down television").
Her life is often really bittersweet and touching. Her missing hippie brother with the rambling postcards is a really great ingredient. Her neighborhood is fun, and the attention she begins to learn to pay to her mother is nice. Cedar spends a lot of time thinking about family, and figuring out how to be secure in hers. "Four of us was enough to feel like a regular family. Now there's only two, it feels too small to be a real family." The information she gets at the end about her parents, her dad's work and their marriage, is a little odd, but it's an interestingly unique conflict to have in the backstory.
Everything about learning acrobatic tricks and starting the fundraiser circus, major cute. And the fantastic lesson: "'You have a green thumb for people.'" I'm going to remember that one a long time.
The drawings are pretty great too. 3.5 stars all around. Glad to have this, for when I want to feel happy....more
Wow, I loved this. Wow. These are some of the best characters I've read in a while. The characters are so crazy good it wouOn loan from Emily, hurray.
Wow, I loved this. Wow. These are some of the best characters I've read in a while. The characters are so crazy good it would be a great book even if it wasn't in Antarctica. But it is!
The narration and structure are so wonderful. Being in Sym's head is great. Exhorting herself, "marshal your facts". Talking constantly to "Titus," the long-dead explorer Lawrence Oates of the Scott expedition. Reflecting on her isolation.
Her backstory, with her deafness and her father's disturbing illness, is wrenching in every piece. It never really feels like flashbacks, everything we learn about her family and her school life, but since the book is mostly happening on this screwed up trip in Antartica, those things are about that too: "My father didn't like me, and now that he's dead, there's nothing I can do to make him like me. I thought I'd gotten over that. But wounds unheal here. It troubles me more and more, not less and less. You have to be pretty useless for even your own father not to like you." Ugh. Ouch. Ow.
And of course the whole situation is just so messed up. How did nothing prevent them from getting there? Uncle Victor flies right off the page with his freak flag immediately in the beginning, so it's clear you can't take him at face value as Sym does. (It was the paranoid cell phone contraption that did it for me. And when the woman in the shop asked Sym concernedly whether this man is her father, or if he's... something else.) He is defining the term "solo mission" here, because he's living a life and working an agenda that makes sense to no one else at all. Totally amazing to read, though.
So when their weird holiday escalates and makes these turns that take them to Antarctica and Sym is surprised by it all, you are too, but it's more like disbelief. And that disbelief hangs in there as stuff goes wronger and wronger once they're there. And it takes a long time before you and Sym catch up with what's really going on. Though honestly, I tend to like the mystery of YA conflicts a bit more than the inevitable telling.
So the story surprised me, the plot built and I really didn't know what was going to happen, and how bad it was going to get, and who was responsible for what disaster, and what would succeed and fail. It's frustrating and suspenseful. Sometimes Sym gets to impress herself and be resourceful and make a plan, but sometimes she just suffers.
You know. Because she is lost in Antarctica. Which would be pretty bad.
"'Unhappy people do the oddest, most terrible things, just trying to keep despair at bay. All you have to do is accept them... go around them... take evasive action.'"
I really loved this. Bea made me happy right away.
I had to write down a lot of things that came out wonderfullyMeg located a copy, hurray. Thanks Meg.
I really loved this. Bea made me happy right away.
I had to write down a lot of things that came out wonderfully. "I wanted to like people. It worried me that I didn't." "Feelings make you crazy. I had to keep reminding myself of that."
All the people in the picture are pretty much perfect. The radio show and its denizens are just great. (Don Berman.) And the classmates are all super good. They are exactly what high school feels like. We all were there. The hot dude who actually says, "Partying is human nature."
The parents are super good too. Bea's eagle view of both of hers is great, particularly of the changes in her mom, which were so wrenching. With YA books so much gets explained by the end, most of the time, and with this one the messiness with her mom was so right and tender and frustrating, I was hoping that it wouldn't get explained by such a clean origin -- as if to say, don't worry, if this doesn't happen to you first, then you're safe from the rest of what you see here. You're not, YA readers! It's not true!
It wasn't all really perfect because I felt a few threads got lost here and there, like we missed a few beats between chapters, or I wished for a good straightforward look at something and we didn't get it. For instance I think Bea's narration tells us about the fuzzy status of Bea and Jonah's relationship before we've actually seen them grapple with it in their real life. The grappling, it's good, it's a big part of what's going on. I want to hear it. Whenever they face each other, it's fantastic.
The ending is so tough, and I really, really wonder what will happen to them both. So even though that's sad, it's good....more
I've actually read through issue 15, the most recent released to date, but this collection will cap at 12. I really like several things about the nextI've actually read through issue 15, the most recent released to date, but this collection will cap at 12. I really like several things about the next issues, though, so I look forward to reviewing upcoming volumes. More stars!
This volume mostly deals with Tom's ordeal in prison after the events of the first book, and where he begins to go after it's destroyed. He still doesn't have a plan really, or any idea why terrible things are following him and how much to trust the new capabilities he's picking up. How could he trust what he sees? He's walking blind with all these things going on. Lizzie keeps telling him to walk the path, which is totally pissing him off. She clearly knows what's happening. Lizzie, what is happening?!
I really like the addition of the blogger friend. In general Carey's use of the internet and media is pretty great, and the comic is full of big intimidating ideas so a goofy dude is appreciated. The tragedy of the prison governor and his transformation is impressive. The reflective Frankenstein monster popping up is an occasionally surprising touch: "We have that in common. ... We are made things. And those who made us do not love us." And Lizzie's ability to communicate with Wilson through the words in books is freaking awesome.
Also there's a flying cat.
Less excited about the three following issues, two with the unexpected time-travel visit with Goebbels, Jud Süss, and the, ah, literary "canker" as it's unfortunately named. Though the art is really cool. Tom's abilities don't really make enough sense yet. Why did he get to deal with the messiest mess right away, and is he going to do a lot of this "healing" of historical contradictions? It's just a different type of focus than the rest of the series has had.
And the creepy last issue with the warning fable of Paul the bunny, authorial enemy turned fairy tale character, is just kinda weird. Or, more Beatrix Potter/Milne character than fairy tale. It's kind of funny too -- a suicidal rabbit cursing up a crazy storm with all these huggy forest animals -- but majorly weird. But, I really want to see what other kinds of things like this can happen.
Really excited for more of this, because it's going to get even better.
While reading these issues, I learned that my nightstand drawer is pretty much exactly the same size as a stack of comic books. So that's gonna be a thing now....more
This is a small one, not sure why it took so long to read. Think I dragged my feet a little.
Thing one: these aren't ghost stories. I thought they wereThis is a small one, not sure why it took so long to read. Think I dragged my feet a little.
Thing one: these aren't ghost stories. I thought they were kinda gonna be, but it's ok. Ghostly, though. They're foremost historical fiction (a pretty superb ingredient for ghost stories, but oh well), and very enthusiastic ones. Lots of street names, neighborhood. One I used to live in, so well-appreciated. From the earliest story: "Like my mother I am loath to flee the town at the first sign of trouble. It will kill me, of course, New York will kill me ... I will go down, as they say in the grog shops hereabouts, with my vessel! With my ship!"
First story: 3.5 stars. Should probably be 3, but this gets the sentimental round-up. Taking place in occupied NYC, 1777, in the old downtown: APPROVED. The details are swift and really great. A whole lot is packed in there and I like it a lot. The eventual story of his mother's secret work and martyrdom is ok if simplistic, and might even be appropriate for young readers, since the child's narration is really innocent. Though it isn't exactly gripping.
Still, my favorite creepy detail: the question remaining, how is it exactly that he has his mother's skull in his hands, all these years later? GOOD QUESTION, right? There is clearly something we don't know. Which is really good actually.
Second story: 4.5 stars. I am not quite sure what I enjoyed so much but I did. The story is again simple but so vivid. It's like a fable you don't know the ending to. It's set around 1860. This is the longest story, and still feels compact, well-built. I really enjoyed this a lot. "Somewhere in the recesses of his heart a mortal wound was weeping."
Third story: 2.5 stars. A weird one. The only contemporary piece. I liked the first half, and thought a clear-eyed psychiatrist was an interesting choice of perspective for a 9/11 story, and the story of her patient and his relationship with an escort affected by the attacks. And the 9/11 of it, really, is good, affecting and detailed, difficult. I was on board.
This narrative perspective gets thrown off, though, because she starts to drift. There is an early clue, the story's first line stating that her patient is "like a son", but following with no behavior from her surpassing the professional. Which is weird. And then her behavior does surpass the professional, and I thought, ah, well, no, that's not good. The character seems to change after her visit to the site -- "Until I went to Ground Zero, I had rejected the concept of evil" -- and she quickly turns her judgements on her patient. He's pathologically obsessed, his girlfriend is a sociopath. A Chinese one no less. She fixates on the woman's Americanness.
Which is all an interesting kink in the story, but I felt a bit dislodged. I no longer agreed with the narrator, so perhaps I was meant to agree with the prostitute. But these same events make her begin to drift into badness, too, and I wasn't sure what feeling the author was bringing across any more. I think the ending could have been more unsettling, more something, so I knew what to see.
A bit of a :-\ way to end the book, but really I liked it, and I'll be keeping it....more
This book has become pretty famous. I knew lots and lots of things about it going in. I thought I knew what it would bBUH you've got to be kidding me.
This book has become pretty famous. I knew lots and lots of things about it going in. I thought I knew what it would be (and I thought I would like it). The surprise: this book is terrible! How did I miss that? Didn't anyone leave any clues? No warning? Well, it's terrible.
The writing on both halves is so immensely lazy, I was kinda shocked. The narration for each point of view is very, very internal monologue -- the kind you can write as fast as you can read, where you don't have to try too hard because literally anything can be justified. If you're Rachel Cohn, for instance, it justifies lots of "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"s and other things that look entirely ridiculous on a page and don't help and just take up space. NO INDEED. Anyway, I don't find this fun to read. Any style at all is preferred to zero style. Why bother, if you're not saying anything? It reads like they didn't want to write a book but a movie pitch. Hey what do you know.
And, well, F to every single thing about Norah. This is Rachel Cohn's fault and also Norah's. I don't even really want to waste my time going into detail with this one. She just sucks and is sorta Mary Suey. A totally ridiculous Cinderella complex, while also being rich and famous in all the coolest places. Is for some reason looked after and enjoyed in these venues instead of put in her place by bitchy people who had to work to get there, as would happen in real life. We're to believe she's going to "run" a Lower East Side rock club when she's 19. With all the emphasis on her great taste and opinionations -- it's realistic teenage bravado, sure, but there is literally nothing thrown against any of this in the book, no spaghetti sliding down the wall at all, so I have to conclude that the shortsightedness isn't author commentary but author thumbs-up. And, no thanks. "Being perfect" is not the type of fantasy that I fancy in my fiction.
(Sidebar: Can we please get a new word for Mary Sue? Oh I hate that word. Also a new word for "manic pixie dream girl," but I can submit a separate ticket for that issue.)
David Levithan doesn't come off so hot either. However, Nick's chapters are way, way severely more together, more evocative, more reflecting of what's supposedly around them. The only parts that work at all are Levithan's. Including the one bit of good, solid YA reflection in the whole thing, right in the middle when they're separated and Nick is bummed. I genuinely appreciated about two pages of that chapter. Way to go, chapter!
Both authors are guilty of magical side characters made out of slightly offensive stereotypes. Like the tranny with the heart of gold who wants nothing more than to be involved in the budding relationship of two bougie teenagers and give them advice. And the brusque first-generation cab driver who turns out to be a caring family man, also willing to go out of his way to make this belligerent girl feel better, without question or asking where her parents are, like would happen in real life.
There is also some "teenagers as gods" syndrome in this book. They have no rules from parents to obey, they drink, they swear, they rock, they have sex, and all with aplomb. And see. The thing. To me it's not that these things aren't experienced by teenagers at all, or a lot -- but um. For the most part, they are really not any good at them. They will do them and be so bad at them. That's part of the deal. That's part of their pathos and irritation. This is also pretty much the bedrock on which YA lit is built. And while there is some fumbling in this one (mainly as a stand-in for characterization) such that it isn't exactly Gossip Girl, still the experience levels are totally not believable and so I wanted to fight them instead of cheer for them, at every development. Since when is it so easy to do everything you want?
That said, the purportedly sexy parts are just off-putting instead of hot or comedic -- not sure which they're going for but it's neither. Also I don't object to the f word at all, but there are at least two per page here and jeez. I guess you gotta be in the mood.
But I'm rounding this up to 2 stars because, I don't know. I sort of got used to the damn thing by the end. Also, the only book I've ever 1-starred was one that deeply offended me, so I guess that's an imaginary threshold I set up. Annoyed is just not the same as offended. Try me though it might....more
**spoiler alert** I got this as an impulse buy in a $2 sale at B&N. I was pretty sure it would be a good idea. Once I checked Goodreads it turned out **spoiler alert** I got this as an impulse buy in a $2 sale at B&N. I was pretty sure it would be a good idea. Once I checked Goodreads it turned out I'd read a 5 star review not long ago, but I think that even if it hadn't been I would still have remembered it for its completely totally amazing title. (I was a little sad when I learned Vida borrowed it from a poem of the same name. But it's ok.)
I still didn't know what I was going to be getting, though -- the back flap describes answers being found at a hotel made of ice. Would that be real? Why yes it would.
Clarissa is a great narrator. She's really easy to understand, and some of her keener moments of despair are really painful. "I felt like a shattered window." Her constant travel is really effective for this story, and you feel tired right along with her.
I'm not the biggest fan of the trope when a woman with a bad mother solves the equation by becoming a mother herself, but that was somewhat effective here too.
Tiny problem: it wasn't clear why, near the end, she kept thinking the snowmobiler was going to kill her on their way to the cabin? It looked really irrational so I wondered if we were supposed to start doubting her, or what's going on. It was an important and suspenseful part of the journey, so confusion was sort of distracting.
And it connects to one of my only disbelief-suspending problems, which is that Clarissa does a lot of things that are a really bad idea for a woman to do alone while traveling anywhere. She's not cautious. I like her lack of caution, as a trait in the story, but it's not quite indicated to us that the author is thinking about it either.
The major theme in the book is very strong: "I recognized the desire to erase someone." Though she's also extremely painful, it was interesting to sometimes understand Olivia really well too. I think I'd like to read the philosophy article Vida mentions in the back, "Against Narravity," about whether everyone always connects the present to the past....more
In lots of ways, this is probably a 3 star book. It's not very exciting. Most things that are suggested may happen never happen. But as with the otherIn lots of ways, this is probably a 3 star book. It's not very exciting. Most things that are suggested may happen never happen. But as with the other Lessing book I've read, the quality of the insight is so good that it can't be discounted. Usually I copy my favorite passages from dog-eared pages into my Goodreads review, but this time there were 20 of those pages and they required their own Google Doc. And, like with the other book, they're a little scary.
I liked this book right away, because a lot of what I like is right in the bones of the thing. It's kind of a miraculous recipe. I heartily approved of Sarah and all of the threads in her life. Her work at the theater is tantalizingly realistic (there is such a thing). Her quick friendship with Stephen is wonderful and touching right away. Her unusual obligation to raising her niece Joyce, though Joyce's parents are perfectly viable but unwilling, felt immediately serious to me. And the exposition of Julie Vairon, the thread stitching everything here together, was extremely appealing.
The characters spend the book at work on a play (with music) about Julie Vairon, an obscure 19th century (fictional) figure who became famous after death as a composer, artist and diarist, of a background "like Napoleon's Josephine". She lived alone in a forest outside a small French town, had a few serious love affairs, and drowned herself while in her thirties.
I am pretty sure that if this all were true, I would really like Julie Vairon the figure. She seems extremely real and I can really imagine the way she would be appreciated now. A Women's History Month kind of person. I don't think however I would like Julie Vairon the play very much, but I suspended disbelief enough to let the characters think so. The play's evolution is one of the book's major signals -- the characters all have very distinct ways of relating to Julie, and their "take" on the play is the way we place them in Sarah's moral spectrum. France and England are characterized by their different responses to the productions, and at the end, we are bitterly disappointed when someone wants to make a musical.
The atmosphere of the book is a really strong element, first the portion during the production in Julie's semi-hometown in France, and then the portion where Sarah becomes a welcome guest of Stephen's English country estate where the next production happens. That place and their relationships to it reminded me a little of Brideshead. I wished she'd spent even more time there, as all the time spent absorbing Stephen's life was excellent, his quiet psychosis and strange marital situation. Really good.
What's funny about this book is that in a lot of ways the plot -- older woman falls in love with younger men, twice -- makes it sound really Oprah-friendly. But Lessing is such a brutal writer. It seems there's always some dark insanity involved. A bit of danger, as these people will never recover from this ordinary pain.
Sarah goes through so much pain with these feelings it's almost enough to disconnect you from the story. All this for Bill, really? Bill sucks! Henry doesn't suck. Henry is great. But much, much time is spent in the detail of her unconsummated passions, which really go nowhere. For all the self-referential comparisons to bedroom farce, not one single bed gets hopped this whole time. (Well, one off-screen, and not Sarah's.) I suppose that's part of the point, but France was mildly oppressive to read through with all of this. (Though maybe because I really didn't care about Bill, at all.)
Once those are over, though, what she's left with is moving, as is her effort at caring for Stephen on his parallel paths. Between Stephen and her brother and Julie, so much of the thematic purpose of the novel comes together in the last 50 pages, it's so strong. A little odd because it seems it wasn't present earlier, but really it was, just quietly. In the scene when Elizabeth is so angry, and says it's so irresponsible, I really thought she was directing the reproach at Sarah, because it sounded exactly like the senseless blame her brother always levied about his daughter. Her reflections on being alone at the end go really deep.
So I'm really glad I read this, even though "nothing happened"....more
4.5 stars, really often. This is the first YA book in a long time that felt weirdly relevant to me. I've **spoiler alert** Birthday present to myself!
4.5 stars, really often. This is the first YA book in a long time that felt weirdly relevant to me. I've been in lots of these places, pretty much yesterday. Interesting how that works.
I've never read a David Levithan book before, so I thought it was funny how immediately in the opening chapter we are name-checking Neutral Milk Hotel songs. Well, that was easy! Now I clearly know a David Levithan book from the herd! But eventually, I was much more impressed than that. I'm not totally sure about the who authored whom thing, so I guess I'll just credit them both with the good work, because that's probably true.
Anyway, it turned out that nearly every single page I dog-eared was uppercase Will Grayson's. In a short book there were like six of them. He said the most good things here. He's put in such a realistic place. The good but less than great life, beneath notice, wondering what you're supposed to do to become amazing, what you would be able to be doing if you were a different kind of person. Feeling you're permanently stuck one way and you've made too many mistakes and missed your chance, even though you're so young that's crazy. Nervous about wanting something very badly.
It's also good work to have made this book about gay characters plus many things. The coming out was so calm. And everyone has a lot of things to think about instead of just that one.
I do have a couple complaints which kept this from total awesomeness for me. The ending is just ok. And I was disappointed early on when the story with the internet boyfriend turned out just to be the catalyst to get the WG paths to criss-cross, instead of a real and rich thing. Lowercase Will Grayson, so deeply upset in his life and also having this one incongruous amazing love thing going on, it's a really good premise, and 100% real. And, I thought John Green was about to score an incredible home run with a meaningful and realistic depiction of what it's like to meet an internet friend. Because there is probably no one better qualified to do so. I hope he does write that someday.
Also I'm sure you will be really mad at me, but I didn't like Tiny's musical that much.
But it was a really good book, and I'm glad I've got it. Because I might need it again later....more
I actually liked this a lot more than I thought I would. I expected it to make me cranky, but I really enjoyed reading it. When I thought hard about iI actually liked this a lot more than I thought I would. I expected it to make me cranky, but I really enjoyed reading it. When I thought hard about it, though, it was missing something... revelatory, I think, that's keeping me from rounding up the rating. In my heart. (And on Goodreads.)
One thing I knew right away, though -- it really is overlong. This story doesn't have to be 500 pages. To its credit, there isn't any thread or character I immediately think of cutting, but there's just a lot. This book is a ton of people. Maybe a trim in each region would have helped. (Yasmin & Ashok in India and Matthew in China are nice but not critical. Conversely, more about Big Sister Nor would have been good.) The funny, exclamation-pointy authorial economics lessons work pretty well, and they lend some seriousness to the plot points, but they do stick out a bit too.
But generally speaking, the deeply international setting is wonderful, and written like the author has been on the ground in those places (not sure?), the slang is cool, there's a lot of day-to-day culture that feels right, and the sociological take is almost never off-key. (There are perhaps a dozen too many "chin-waggles".)
The best parts just stick out really well. Jie and her "Jiandi" folk-hero internet pirate radio show fame in China is amazing. That whole long, long, long scene when she first scoops Lu up and keeps him safe in one of her secret apartments and puts him on the air is probably the coolest part of the book. I also really liked Wei-Dong ("Leonard") and his flight from American boarding school, and his voyage in a teched-out shipping container. He gets the only kid-and-parents family drama in the book and that's done nicely, though feels a bit out of place in this book about teenagers, the internet, and bad business.
In general, this felt like a great book for this author to write because it's awesome to have so much internet in a novel, written by someone who isn't only doing research, who feels it too. (This reminds me of the item on my wish list that is John Green write a book about internet friends.) Pretty much all of this stuff is real, or like what's real, and it's a deep level of detail but written really invitingly. Most of it isn't in my experience, but enough is tangential that it's exciting or funny or touching when it should be. All the hacker-ish stuff is totally thrilling to someone who's never done any of it, I won't lie. You lost me at "proxy", but ok I am totally flipping the page! The level of totally real espionage needed just to stay online, it's great, portrayed really well, and relevant to actual real places.
The only thing is, the thrust of the book, unionizing the gamers and this mission's clashes with authority... I'm not sure any of this was... necessary? I mean it's set up to make a lot of sense, and we can see in the story how these workers are exploited (and just, charming to read this YA book about labor organization you guys). But I think the workers of the world thing connects in only a limited way. Characters die (one of which was surprising, one of which was not). And this ambition kind of hurts its ending -- the scope is so big that waiting for all the laces to tie up is sort of ho-hum, eventually.
Moments I liked:
"'You violate the social contract, the other person doesn't know what to do about it. There's no script for it. There's a moment where time stands still, and in that moment, you can empty out his pockets.'"
And:
"Wei-Dong loved his parents. He wanted their approval. He trusted their judgment. That was why he'd been so freaked out when he discovered that they'd been plotting to send him away. If he hadn't cared about them, none of it would have mattered."
And, a joke worthy of repeating on the internet:
"He could feel everything that was happening in the games he ran. He could tell when there was a run on gold in Svartalfheim Warriors, or when Zombie Mecha's credits took a dive. ... He could tell when there was a traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge in Zombie Mecha as too many ronin tried to enter Manhattan to clear out the Flatiron Building and complete the Publishing Quest."...more
This is a 2.5 for me and I'm hovering on which way to round it. What will I decide??
See, this book has rubbed off on me! At many turns, this book sounThis is a 2.5 for me and I'm hovering on which way to round it. What will I decide??
See, this book has rubbed off on me! At many turns, this book sounds overwhelmingly cheesy. I can see why these roots of sci-fi are so interesting to people, because they're such a product of their period as well as reaching for something forward -- thus, it's weirdly bold and corny at the same time. This book is focused on its characters, which is a very good way to write. (This was a present from Evan, who pointed that out.) Yet, allow me to quote the inner monologue that closes the first chapter: "'All right, D'Courtney. If you won't let it be merger, then I'll make it murder.'" Er. Wow. There is a lot of this level of silliness in the text, and it's not really like what I usually read. It was a bit hard to adjust to.
The most unique part of the book is of course the "Espers," the eminently well-structured class of telepathic humans. There is spoken dialogue and telepathic dialogue, and some neat layout of the text to try and show how they think. Powell's ventures deep into Barbara's unconscious as part of his police investigation are probably the coolest scenes. And I really liked when he and Mary bickered subconsciously.
In general the book got much much better to me near the end, but also more confusing. I guess the peril of establishing a genre as an author is that your work won't benefit from the refined expectations of its later fans, so in a lot of ways I felt lost as a reader -- what's this world like, what's the explanation? There is a lot of pop psychology here, and that's the main basis for everything, so a lot of the characterization doesn't make enough sense to my ear. And Reich's position as a "Universe-shaker" is properly surprising but entirely undefined. (Is it a spoiler if I really don't know what it is?) But, the revelation of what the Demolition threat really means, and the final scene about "Maybe in those days they wanted sheep," that's pretty damn good.
Like all old sci-fi, it's irresistible to compare the "future" to what's come to pass since it's written. This book is from 1951, which in pop culture terms is endearingly ancient, a decade or two off some of the most influential events of the century. (Of course, also rather nearby some others, but I don't feel the war's impact here so much.) It's fantastic to see what an author was able to conceptualize, and what just couldn't possibly happen for them yet.
So on the one hand, in this book there is a wall-sized supercomputer that doesn't even have a screen. It outputs on a typewriter! Incredible, considering the fact that I am posting this review on Goodreads.com right now, you know what I mean? So far away. And "Do I have time to catch the 10:00 rocket? Call Idlewild," kind of slayed me. How could this rocketeer know the airport would rather soon have to be renamed JFK? The future, it's dated.
But there's plenty of right ideas, the ubiquitous video-phone and audio-bookstore, plus the humorous "brooch-operas" ("She Shall Have Music Wherever She Goes") that I suppose are probably how iPods would have been designed in 1950, sure. And, distressingly: "Snim trudged downtown to Maiden Lane and cased the banks in that pleasant esplanade around Bomb Inlet." Too right. Actually.
I can't, though, let this book go without saying that its misogyny makes it really hard to enjoy. For this reader. Indeed some won't mind but it did do its number on me. It isn't just that the only women in the book are just around to want the men, who are allowed to want other things besides the women. It's that it is mean, kinda borderline violent, and that's not good fun or inevitable social history to me.
Like: The literal infantilization of Barbara the love interest -- she regresses into a drooling, baby-talking woman-baby, as a coping mechanism -- who then falls in love with her Da-Da. And there's Duffy, the "virgin seductress," who begs to be thrown around.
A few moments:
"You're delighted with yourself because you're a woman, aren't you? It's your substitute for living. ... 'It's enough to know that thousands of men could have me if I'd let them. That makes me real.'"
"'I'm beginning to hate her ... that goddamn girl.'" "'Mr. Beck, I hate women too. For Christ's sake, why are they all trying to get me married?'" "[laughter]"
"'Why waste all that dear violence? Punch me around a little.'" (Thanks, Duffy.)
Some of this is intentionally disturbing, but some of it is probably not. Sometimes this atmosphere is just icky. I don't like reading around this, but I know some readers don't mind it, and some enjoy the sort of pulpiness about it.
Birthday present from Chris. Good book! 3.5 stars but I'm gonna save that fourth one for later. First 5 issues collected here.
The obvious centerpiece Birthday present from Chris. Good book! 3.5 stars but I'm gonna save that fourth one for later. First 5 issues collected here.
The obvious centerpiece here are the issues set at the Villa Diodati estate (historically with connections to Mary Shelley and John Milton, plus this fictional author). A group of genre authors are having a retreat there, and things go pretty badly, but not before some cool things are said:
- "Horror is initially meant to heal, not to harm." - "It takes a seismic effort to drag something so big out of your mind into the world." - "If you want to keep people from realizing their collective strength, make them too afraid of each other ever to meet or talk."
So those scenes are pretty interesting. Scary, too. Reminded me of some scarierSandman volumes. So it's cool: some smart dialogue about the nature and history of horror stories, plus a little extra fright. I'm still figuring out what the full concept of the series is, but it's a fun way to make a comic for history and literature lovers. Happiness for a special cross-section of nerd.
I am missing a tiny bit not having read Harry Potter. The massive phenomenon boy wizard series reference point is pretty clear. But honestly I'm not as well-read as the author anyway, so it's not just about being familiar with those details.
I was sort of lost when Tom and Lizzie have their conversation upstairs. We see them talking, semi-flirting, and then a couple pages of a scene elsewhere, and then Tom is saying "I didn't mean that stuff about killing you. It's just an expression." and "I didn't remember til now. Until you made me talk about that night." I kept looking at the pages behind it to see what I missed. It didn't make sense. I guess it was just awkward exposition? But why skip the scene he's referring to? Is something else going on here?
The standalone issue about Kipling at the end is interesting. I wonder if there's more of that in the series.
Chris owns the rest of it to date in individual issues, so I'm definitely going to have to follow up with the next volume. ...more
I've had this copy since high school, but I've never read the whole thing before now. I think I'd read the first act, and seen the start of the movie,I've had this copy since high school, but I've never read the whole thing before now. I think I'd read the first act, and seen the start of the movie, and I knew about the ending, but the pieces weren't properly pieced before this read.
So this was a good choice, very good choice. First act is great, second act is better. (Third act's ok.) Right in the middle, this turns so scary. Oh it's scary. The dark threat in a really good play, oh that's so good. When the "Violence! Violence!" struck up I caught my breath a little. (Also, "The mousy girl screams 'Violence! Violence!'" is a song lyric I had not placed.)
I liked George's mental break much more than Martha's, here. (And Honey's, as mentioned, isn't bad.) Martha's going-crazy monologues in Act III really did not work super great on the page for me. Whereas George's psycho ragey meltdown is amazing, amazing throughout but particularly in Act II, he's just talking evil circles around everyone, everyone every second. So detached, yet so ready to go. Albee describes a "hideous elation," which, wow. His creepy tangly backstory too. 5 stars, Act II. Maybe 500.
I'm leaving this at 4 stars though because the ending wasn't fabulous for me. I felt it didn't do very much. It got very manic for a very long time, and in a way, I felt, that drowned out its big secret. It's true I knew already where that was going, but I guess I felt that if the emphasis wasn't really on the reveal then it must be on the mania, and that was kind of all over the place. And I wanted a better sense of what's going on really, outside this crazy house, what happens after this night. Anything? Maybe not anything. I really wish I knew.
Anyway what I really have to contribute is how in my imagination Honey was played by Alison Brie. It was always her. Yeah I know, you're totally welcome. Just giving back to the universe a little. Good work.
I can tell I'm gonna be pulled to reread this someday....more
Man, what a pain! This is a tough call. I'll go with the 2 stars and call it even, I guess.
Unfortunately, I feel like I need to talk about my Tori feeMan, what a pain! This is a tough call. I'll go with the 2 stars and call it even, I guess.
Unfortunately, I feel like I need to talk about my Tori feelings first. Curse it!
Before reading this, I correctly worried I would find it all so annoying that I'd be sad. But I picked it up because I conducted an experiment where I re-listened to every Tori song that I've had since high school, which I can't say is every song? But is a few hundred. I just shuffled them around for days. I wasn't allowed to skip any, even the horrible ones, except for the song that used to make me cry really hard, just in case. It was a good idea, and giving the new songs some time was good too. And I saw some done in new ways; are you kidding me, P.S. 22? For real, doesn't that make you want to listen to Tori Amos?
But really for each thing that makes me go YES, something else makes me go NO. The unfortunate penchant for role play. And she's kind of obsessed with being skinny. And I have a low threshold for her more dippy beliefs. I even like obscure myths and stuff, but it's just distraction here.
Anyway. This book is not good, and it begins with this narcissistic problem. People do like to read one's thoughts, but they also read nonfiction for facts, and not facts like the name of the paint color of the studio in one's beach house. Which I think we get told two or three times, actually. Once is too many. It could all be less horrible to read if anyone had reined in anyone else, but that clearly didn't happen. Did the editor just give up?
I think the editor just gave up. The problem really is the book itself -- Tori's annoying sometimes, but at least I still respect her a lot at the end of all this, and instead I find Ann Powers the lamest hack ever. BAD. The structure is ridiculous -- it's barely a book at all. And Powers's own insertions are crazy and factless. "The degradation of archetypes within contemporary society has made serving Dionysus a sloppy affair for many." THE WHOLE THING IS LIKE THAT.
But. My favorite part to read was the chapter about touring, because touring is cool, and it was also the most grounded in reality chapter. I like someone telling what it was like when their driver got the upper deck of their bus torn off, and they still slept in it because they didn't know what else to do. And the historical ironies are kind of funny. Like how her first tour manager ditched her in 1992 for They Might Be Giants. You can't make that stuff up. My very favorite was probably Joel Hopkins, Security Director/bodyguard, describing his management of the intense fan base: "I try to keep a close watch on the vulnerable ones." Oh my gosh man. Like a biker with a kitten, that one.
But see, that basically good chapter of a book is titled, "Sane Satyrs and Balanced Bacchantes: The Touring Life's Gypsy Caravan". Ann Powers, are you serious? Because I about have a conniption here with you.
I think Powers's main crime, though, is not questioning one single thing Amos has to say. There are literally no follow up questions, or another point of view. Her authorial method seems to be: 1) bring up thing, 2) copy down what Tori says, 3) publish book. This makes for such indulgent content, plus it looks like total whitewashing over the slightly controversial pieces of Tori's history. It renders a book basically useless.
The actual best chapter is the one about her relationship problems with record labels. How Atlantic warned they'd bury her by making her live out her contract, and when it was done, she would be too old. It's a long story, and her telling it is great because above all it proves that she is no dummy. Not at all.
Too bad none of the people on this project with her could tell it....more
Good ending. I'm tempted to give this the sentimental round-up, but really the book is mostly action, with a little around the edges, so there's only Good ending. I'm tempted to give this the sentimental round-up, but really the book is mostly action, with a little around the edges, so there's only so far it can go. It is the necessary fight, of course. So it's ok. The big bad.
Scott. His "extra life" face. I just love him. I love him at the beginning with the crappy memory, when he's "tryyyyyying..." and totally not trying, in the middle when he's all excited to successfully kick an ass, at the end when he's a very bad, confident cook. He's just the funniest hero of all time.
So the "get Gideon out of her head" thing works ok. But dudes I really have to say on the permanent record that the evil mission "to rule Ramona's future love life" is just not that funny to me. I mean I know it's supposed to be evil, it's just, actually pretty evil. It's sort of a bummer.
And I'm gonna also go on the record as the only person on the whole internet who's apprehensive about the movie.
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