6 posts tagged “books”
* Note: This is a very long post, and I expect not even my husband will read it. As such, I'm offering a mini-post within this post. You can just read the red text and the links and get the super-abridged version. Or you could even just look at the pictures.
After a very poor showing in 2006, I was hoping to get a little more literary action in 2007. While this subtle endeavor led to one of the year's important discoveries ("I read really, really, really slowly. Only exceptions: Potter and Ender."), I'm sad to say that the 2007 was only marginally better in terms of volume.
This year's reading was dominated by three things: old English chick lit, the story of Ender, and Severus Snape. Not the Harry Potter books per se, or even Harry himself... just Severus Snape. I became so Snape obsessed that at one point I found myself wishing I was back in university so I could justify writing cupie-doll papers with silly titles like Sirus, Severus, and the Morally Gray. What can I say? I'm a sucker for Byronic heroes. I'm not proud, but I'm not ashamed either, dammit.
Without offering further evidence of my lameness, here's the list for 2007 (in no particular order, since VOX's book insert thing isn't treating me nicely):
Fiction
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Though I can't recall all the details, I remember that this was a thoroughly sweet, enjoyable, and well-written book. Jonathan Safran Foer did an amazing job with this work, and I highly recommend it. I completely fell in love with Oskar, the precocious nine-year-old protagonist. I mean... how can you not fall in love with a nine-year-old protagonist who's genuinely concerned that his mom doesn't know the name of the homeless man in front of the Museum of Natural History and that his pet "just eats and sleeps and goes to the bathroom and has no raison d'etre"? In fact, all of his characters -- even ones who appear only briefly -- are good. As an added bonus, this book pushes the boundaries of layout (it's like a scrap book of pictures, notes, and clues) with a profoundly engaging impact.
Persuasion - Jane Austen's final work, and one that many fans consider her masterpiece. I wasn't as fond of it as some of her other works, but I attribute that to the following: 1) for reasons unknown to me, I always prefer the first book I read by a particular author to ones I read later, 2) I was listening to the audio book, as read by volunteers... performance was patchy, 3) I was listening to the audio book while knitting the vile socks that put me off knitting for months, and finally 4) all the talk about how the younger-than-me protagonist had "lost her bloom" left me feeling old and depressed. That said, it's still Jane Austen. She delivers in that way only Jane can.
Sense and Sensibility - My second favorite Austen novel (P&P being my favorite). I'd read it a few times many moons ago, but was prompted to re-read by my sincere love of the film adaptation by Sony Pictures. True to form, I find it impossible to love equally a book and its movie, and in this case... the film won. The book is great, but the movie is better... though there are certainly elements exclusive to the book I greatly enjoy, such as the deep friendship between Eleanor and Colonel Brandon. In terms of everything else, it's Jane Austen. You know the drill. You either love it or you don't.
North and South - I was just blown away by the BBC mini-series adaptation of this book, so I couldn't wait to read the novel itself (of which I'd never heard before October, thank you so VERY much, Dr. LeStourgen, most useless Victorian Literature professor in the world). I'm not sure this novel gets a lot of rotation. Even my brother-in-law, Oxford Literature grad and clever sausage that he is, initially thought it was about the American Civil War. For those who don't know (I didn't) this book is set in the North and South England in the mid-19th century. I was thoroughly impressed with Gaskell's writing -- remarkable for a woman of her time -- and I sincerely wouldn't classify this stuff as chick lit. She deals with provoking issues of class, industry, moral duty, established authority... the list goes on. My love for the mini-series (which is GREAT) was slightly dimmed by my even greater love of the book. The book did not, however, dim my secret love for Richard Armitage.
Books Intended for Children That I Couldn't Help Reading & Children's Books Written for Adults
Harry Potter and the * (Books 1-7) - I don't know how many times I read which of these, or in what order. It's all one, big, Hogwarty blur. This was a very Harry sort of year, just before it turned into a very Snapey sort of year. These books are just plain fun to read, and not without literary merit. As an added bonus, they make me want to be a wizard. I thought Rowling did a phenomenal job of wrapping up the series. A near perfect job, in fact. My tearful words upon finishing the seventh book were, "She did a really good job. I haven't felt this way since Wuthering Heights." Plus her attention to detail astonishes me. I went looking for holes, and was grossly disappointed. Don't be a curmudgeon. Read these books. On an unrelated note, I've begun steeling myself for the 6th movie, which I feel is doomed to be crap. Jury is out on film #7's potential.
The Velveteen Rabbit - I re-read this classic just before giving it as a part of a baby shower gift. Not my favorite children's book by a landslide, but certainly still classic.
Nonfiction/Poetry
Yarn Harlot - I don't think I'd recommend this book to anyone who isn't a knitter, or anyone who has a low tolerance for crazy. I definitely don't recommend this to any men romantically involved with knitters. There was something about the style of writing that felt slightly overdone or contrived to me, but only just. If, like so many of my friends, you're an obsessive knitter, I would certainly recommend you read this book.
The Great Snape Debate - Easy concept: half of the book makes an argument that Snape is a good guy, the other half argues that he's a bad guy. It was published in-between books 6 and 7, of course. Oh, this friggin' book. This book that forced me to drag all the other HP books off my shelf and flip through them like a fiend, scribbling down notes. This book that had me busting out several Norton anthologies, and reading large portions of "Child Harolde's Pilgrimage" (not short! not all that interesting! Byron is a kind of a jackass!). In reality, it was this stupid panel that instigated the Snape craze. I bought the book hoping that it would be half so interesting, and it wasn't. I suppose I just loved considering the case of this character, and the book didn't show me anything new on that account. Though it wasn't all disappointing: Orson Scott Card's half, written to support the case for Snape's innocence, was good. Then again, this is the guy who wrote the sack of puppies book. Either way, I wouldn't bother reading the Snape debate book once you've finished the series.
And there you have it. I'm annoyed with myself for writing such a long, boring post. Next year: one-line book reviews!
Why I love my man:
He is giddily describing carbohydrate "wangs", thousands of dimensions of existence, and something or other that is isomorphic to a Turing Tape in Diaspora. He says:
and this is where it gets awesome..."
This has been going on for minutes. He says that his brain now
hurts, but he's still muttering something or other about human
consciousness.
I wouldn't trade him for a million-billion dollars.
Warning: Boring old book review to follow...
What can I say? Everyone was right about this one. Rather, the general vibe I was getting gave me very realistic expectations. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but Ender's Game (or Ender's Shadow, for that matter) it was not.
This is especially unfortunate given that Card regarded this novel as the "'real' book," noting that "if [he] hadn't been trying to write Speaker for the Dead in 1983, there would never have been a novel version of Ender's Game at all". That would have been very, very sad.
It's certain that Card
explores concepts like community and belonging in a more sophisticated
and comprehensive manner in Speaker, but it simply doesn't sock you
in the gut the way Ender's Game does. Although this novel can stand on its own decently well, the adult Ender is altogether less palpable than the child Ender was. Most of this novel's momentum ran on the fumes of my love for the character of child Ender. The adult Ender had an interesting kind of integrity, but he seemed slightly disconnected from the character I knew. Something in me didn't fully believe that the child I followed for 600+ pages would grow up to become that man.
Adult Ender needs child Ender much more than the fabric of this novel is willing to admit. I'm of the opinion that characters need to keep earning it, for whatever definition of "it" applies. In this case, the trust and reverence everyone relinquishes to Ender... it seems out of nowhere to me. There is only one character for whom it is justified, and I won't ruin things by saying who that is. I can almost swallow it after my 600+ page journey with him, but I thought this work should be able to stand alone? Alone it feels very magical in a Greek play sort of way, or so I would guess.
So... all in all, not a waste of time... but I would reread Ender's Game or go for Ender's Shadow if you've got an itch to scratch. I suspect that Speaker ain't quite gonna reach it.
It was criminally good. *emboldened, italicized, underlined, CAPITALIZED, and rouged*
The scene on Friday evening played out thusly:
Feeling ill, I left work early. I sulked, knitted, and intermittently ate sugar-free popsicles. When Richard came home several hours later, I was genuinely glad to see him. Being the social creature that I am, I was thrilled to have my hours of loneliness come to an end. I leapt off the couch to greet him, and proceeded
bouncing around like a puppy. I had completely forgotten about the very special package that arrived for me shortly after I left the office.
"Is that for me or for this?" he asked, brandishing the most beautifully ripe Amazon box I'd ever seen. Oh Amazon box, bringer of joy to nerds and yuppies everywhere! Sometimes I order stuff I don't need just for the pleasure of having you placed on my desk! The joy had been for Richard, but soon enough it was for Ender.
I opened my prize and lovingly looked over each book, deciding almost instantly that I would start with Ender's Shadow. In a surge of unexpected self-restraint, I didn't begin reading until 9pm.
And then I read. And read and read and read. And after that, I read some more. Richard was an indignant sci-fi widower the likes of which I've never seen; though in his defense, I barely paid attention to anything he said or did the whole of Saturday and Sunday.
For those who don't know, Ender's Shadow is essentially the same story (in terms of time-line and many plot elements) as Ender's Game, told from the perspective of a different character. Which of course means that it's an entirely different story. The first novel is told from the view of the protagonist Ender, a boy genius saddled with the responsibility of saving the human race while struggling to maintain his own humanity (or so he thinks... it's only a struggle because of how very human he is). This second story takes on Bean as its protagonist, a character who stands out in the first novel but has an obviously ancillary role. Like Ender, he is a genius among geniuses. He easily outpaces everyone with his intellect (even the legendary Ender), but frustrates himself when his extraordinary mind can't show him how to prove his mettle or understand love.
As long as I can remember, I've always been fascinated by the idea that a story can change -- that perhaps reality can change -- depending upon the eyes through which one sees it. This might explain why through most of Ender's Shadow, I had my copy of Ender's Game to hand. Any time Bean and Ender were together, I would read the event in one novel and then switch to read the same event in the other. The books spooned each other as I did it, the spine of the one I was currently reading tucked neatly into the open pages of the other. Then I'd go back and slowly review the section again, trying to glean what the difference in perception could tell me about each character and the overall story. The books were awkwardly pressed together spine to spine as I frantically flipped between the two of them.
I was enthralled in my own private Rashomon, and I'm happy to report that each novel is stronger, better because the other exists. The same is true of the characters... which is a powerful and exceptional thing.
I'm forcing myself to wait a good long while before starting another in the series, because I don't want to lose my life or my husband-to-be to fiction. If that's not good writing, I just don't know what is.
Finally getting around to posting the random books I managed to read this year. I was disappointed to see how meager my list is, but I need to remind myself that...
- ...this has been, thus far, the busiest year of my career
- ...I've been planning a wedding
- ...I've been playing soccer an average of three nights per week
(but sometimes as many as five!) all year, and you can't do that and
read at the same time
So, without any further disclaimers... the list (including my whimsical and altogether useless reviews, which I could probably defend thoroughly and eloquently if I wasn't feeling so very lazy today):
Fiction:
Hitchhiker's Guide - Really loved each of the five novels in its own way... and there were a few surprise tidbits that made me think. Not hard, and not long... but thinking nonetheless. This five-in-one was a very light, very fun read. Douglas Adams has a delightfully playful voice, and he doesn't take himself too seriously. This made it an excellent segue into the world of sci-fi for a nascent reader in that genre like myself. There was a short story included, but I just skipped right over it.
Time Traveler's Wife - Interesting story, and an altogether pleasant read. I found it easy to get hung up on intricacies of time-travel, which is really not at all what this book was intended to do. The love story wasn't entirely plausible to me, but that didn't stop it from being intriguing. Different, neat, fascinating, and even recommended... but not the best read ever.
Max Tivoli - Easily in my list of top-ten love stories of all time. I'm a sucker for a good love story, and this is definitely one of those. Wonderful characters, and of special interest to anyone who lives in San Francisco. Better still, it surprised me twice. I don't want to spoil anything with details, but most books fail to surprise me at all. Very special ones will surprise me once. But twice?! Hot dog!
History of Love - Beautifully tragic (yet somehow hopeful?)
book. Cried and cried. This is the kind of book that has a
good enough heart and substance that the details of the story don't
much matter. The writing style is a little odd, but very easy to
get used to after the first few chapters. It reads slowly for
those who don't get attached to characters easily, or who need a little
more action in their stories in order to enjoy them.
Nonfiction:
Glass Castle - Amazing story that I couldn't put down, but it left me wanting. I didn't care for her writing style, and while I think the author did a bang-up job of telling her story it didn't really change me in any way. It might just be my unconscious bias against nonfiction talking, so don't let me poo-poo this one for you. Worth the day it would take to read.
Pigeons - A novelty and an oddity, this book is packed with fascinating facts about the world of pigeons. Only a 6 out of 10 in terms of the quality of writing and the voice, and probably not enough to hold the attention of most. But if you happen to like pigeons or animal nonfiction in general, this is worth a look.
Books I'd Never Thought I'd Read, But Was Forced to Read Anyway:
Devil Wears Prada - Meh. That's sorta how I felt about it. Just meh. I didn't really connect with any of the characters, and while the story entertained me I didn't really see the point of it. Just not my thing, I guess.
Girl Becomes Comma - This was an interesting enough book, but it
felt too dark and too jaded for me. I vaguely remember a
pervasive sense of "men are evil," but I don't think that was the
intent. I believe she was trying to paint a story about women who
are insufferably lonely and somehow trying to fill that void.
They were each too unhealthy and dysfunctional, in their way, for me to
relate. Actually... not true. I just never learned enough
about them outside of that context to become invested in them.
Addendum - Books I Somehow Forgot About When I Orginially Posted:
Wicked - I wanted so much to like this book. I really, really did. And I found myself racing to the end to find out how everything unfolded, which is normally the mark of a book I enjoy. Not so with this one. It felt heavy-handed; the author presented his musings like they were nuggets of the utmost profundity, but they just sorta weren't. Or at least I didn't think so. Bummer.
Not only am I marrying their overlord, but I just read a book about them. It's given me an odd, new-found admiration for the little guys:
Not the most well-written or ground-breaking work in the world (and something I never would have picked up if not for Richard's peculiar nickname), but I will never ever look at pigeons the same way again.
*Note - this book is probably not a good choice for CupCate, though reform is always possible!
