I have actually found a way to shoehorn in a little reading recently (although not much). I did pick up Chuck Palahniuk's 2008 novel Snuff, mostly because I knew that I could read it in a short one hour reading session at a coffeeshop. (Well, an hour 15, probably.)
I was right.
This novel takes place at the taping of a porno flick, and is organized in alternating chapters narrated by five different characters. This is a gimmick Palahniuk has used before--to much better effect in Rant (a book about which I have complicated feelings). The plot of the novel is thin--it doesn't take long to figure out what the relationship between the characters is likely to be. Nor is the expected "Palahniuk twist" all that unpredictable. The final scene of the book should only be described as gratuitous, disgusting and (maybe worst of all) highly improbable.
Wait. I just had to interrupt the writing of this because Criminal Intent is on, and I just got very distracted by wondering if Saffron Burrows spends all of her time trying to remember to suck in her cheeks while she is "acting," or if that is just a freak of facial anatomy. Either way, it stresses me out.
Ultimately, this is a disappointing book. I have read most of Palahniuk's books. I'm not sure why. Usually I am left with the feeling that he just didn't really give it much effort. He's a man with a lot of imagination. And he has a good ear for dialog. But he rarely comes up with much more than a sort of interesting, but underdeveloped, concept. I always read him thinking that maybe the novel in my hand will be the one in which he delivers what his potential promises. (Rant did come close. Just because it was, in its own way, a much more ambitious book than most of his others.) To make matters worse, Palahniuk takes sophomoric delight in creating the names of the fictional male porn stars and the films in which they star. It is humor hardly worthy of morning rock station shock jocks, let alone a darling of contemporary fiction.
So. Um. I'm not really recommending this book. Unless you read as quickly as I do, and you are just sort of curious, and you aren't someone who is overly worried with squandering your leisure time.
EXCEPT. The hardcover of this book sports really great thematic endpapers. If you pass the book in a bookstore, pick it up and look. And see if you don't agree that it would be great to have a roll of that in wrapping paper form.
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
05 June 2010
11 February 2009
January Book Report
OK, so I'm not big on New Year's Resolutions, but I do like the idea of periodic reassessment and goal setting. This year, I am focusing on moderation. I am a big fan of moderation (along with many Enlightenment ideas. I am sort of an Enlightenment kind of girl.), but I'm not particularly good at it. Rather, I am a binge/fast type--with regard to most things in my life. Perhaps nowhere is this more true than in my reading patterns. So--this year I have set myself a goal to read, as consistently as possible, 3 books a week. I figure that this is both a moderate (and attainable) goal, and will foster a kind of moderation in me.
As a kind of accountability to this endeavor, I've decided to blog about it. You can keep updated on how I am doing (if you care), see what I am reading (if you care), and I can feel that I have people to answer to (whether they care or not). Win, win, win.
So, in the month of January I read:
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. This is a total book club book, and not the kind of thing that I would ordinarily pick up. But my mom read it, and she wasn't sure that she understood the way that it ended and wanted me to read it so that we could confer. I did this, as the accommodating daughter that I aspire to be. It's a story about a time traveler. At the heart of it is a potentially awkward sexual relationship. I don't really suggest it, but it's fine for plane reading or whatever.
Medicus by Ruth Downie. Historical mystery/thriller about Roman Britain. I'm a sucker for this kind of thing. It was fair to middling.
When She was Bad by Patricia Pearson. A non-fiction book about female killers. I don't know why.
The Oxford Murders by Guillermo Martinez. This seemed like something I would like, but the idea is not fully realized or developed. I found myself not really caring.
My Life in Heavy Metal by Steve Almond. I am a big fan of Almond's NF (thanks, Mikey J, for the recommendation), but I didn't have high expectations for his fiction. This book of short stories is actually pretty tight. The stories are loosely connected through theme (love, loss, commitment), but the delight comes from the variety of characters and narrative perspectives. It almost feels like an anthology of short stories--which might seem like damning praise--but I enjoyed the virtuosity. "How to Love a Republican" and the poetic "The Pass" are particular standouts, in my opinion. (Plus, Steve Almond is a babe.)
Father of Frankenstein by Christopher Bram. This is the first Bram novel I've ever read, and it is the book on which the film Gods and Monsters (you know, the film that proves that Brendan Frazer can actually act if given a decent script) was based. I liked the book every bit as much as I remember liking the film. It's a book about lonely people and the ways in which they may attach in order not to feel so lonely. Predictably, it is sad, and ultimately really messy. But Bram is a good writer--sensitive and manly at the same time. That isn't an easy balance to strike.
Whit by Iain Banks. OK, confession. Iain Banks is one of my favorite authors. I haven't ever read any of his science fiction (published under the name "Iain M. Banks"), but his straight fiction, which admittedly often deals with popular sci fi themes like surveillance/loss of privacy
is really good. The Wasp Factory is one of my top 20 favorite books and Complicity is in my top 5 list for light pleasure reading. (It's a damn exciting book. And I think that it was made into a film with super-hottie Jonny Lee Miller, but I've never actually seen it.)
Anyway, Whit is the story of a young woman who has been brought up in a religious cult in Northern Scotland and who has been tapped by the cult's leader (her grandfather) to become his heir apparent. One of the younger members of the cult, the girl's cousin, becomes "lost" in London, and the girl is sent to find her. What is interesting about the novel is the sort of Alice-in-Wonderland experiences and perspective of a young adult who has lived in the world, but not really engaged in the world. The plot itself is less impressive than the perspective of, and ultimately the decisions made by, this character.
Book of Evidence by John Banville. It seems like Camus already wrote this book. And IT was better.
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. Yes, it is true, I've never read this before. And now that I have, I don't really see the big deal. Because, here's the thing, I don't really care about Bertha. Is that wrong of me? (Just another example of how I'm not a very good feminist.)
Watership Down by Richard Adams. I know what you are thinking. "That book about rabbits?" I've been putting reading this for years. It's actually a totally fascinating book. In the introduction, Adams writes that he means the book to be a children's story, and he denies that it is a satire or allegory (clearly he is trying to say that this is not his Animal Farm). But the book chronicles the story of a group of rabbits who leave their warren after one of them has a premonition about the destruction of the warren at the hands of men. The motley group (of all male rabbits--this becomes a problem later in the novel) travels over the English countryside looking for a suitable new home. Along the way they encounter natural enemies, make unusual alliances, and encounter other rabbit cultures, which certainly beg to be read as political allegories. The group finally settles and builds its own ideal society, only to realize that mates are necessary in order for the society to continue and flourish. This is a book about survival, mating and parenting, and death. It's tone and subject are very serious. The rabbits are not cute, and most of them begin the journey the bunny equivalent of young adults. In no way does this seem like a children's story.
On the other hand, it's about bunny rabbits.
I actually recommend the book highly. It's interesting and a quick read. There are real moments of pathos, of excitement (there's lots of rabbit battles--those guys are scrappy too!), of danger. It doesn't feel like a typical children's "animal fantasy".
***
That's the whole list, kids. Stay tuned for February's picks. So far the list is pretty short (damn student papers!) but I'll try to make some headway before the end of the month.
January pages=3,189
As a kind of accountability to this endeavor, I've decided to blog about it. You can keep updated on how I am doing (if you care), see what I am reading (if you care), and I can feel that I have people to answer to (whether they care or not). Win, win, win.
So, in the month of January I read:
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. This is a total book club book, and not the kind of thing that I would ordinarily pick up. But my mom read it, and she wasn't sure that she understood the way that it ended and wanted me to read it so that we could confer. I did this, as the accommodating daughter that I aspire to be. It's a story about a time traveler. At the heart of it is a potentially awkward sexual relationship. I don't really suggest it, but it's fine for plane reading or whatever.
Medicus by Ruth Downie. Historical mystery/thriller about Roman Britain. I'm a sucker for this kind of thing. It was fair to middling.
When She was Bad by Patricia Pearson. A non-fiction book about female killers. I don't know why.
The Oxford Murders by Guillermo Martinez. This seemed like something I would like, but the idea is not fully realized or developed. I found myself not really caring.
My Life in Heavy Metal by Steve Almond. I am a big fan of Almond's NF (thanks, Mikey J, for the recommendation), but I didn't have high expectations for his fiction. This book of short stories is actually pretty tight. The stories are loosely connected through theme (love, loss, commitment), but the delight comes from the variety of characters and narrative perspectives. It almost feels like an anthology of short stories--which might seem like damning praise--but I enjoyed the virtuosity. "How to Love a Republican" and the poetic "The Pass" are particular standouts, in my opinion. (Plus, Steve Almond is a babe.)
Father of Frankenstein by Christopher Bram. This is the first Bram novel I've ever read, and it is the book on which the film Gods and Monsters (you know, the film that proves that Brendan Frazer can actually act if given a decent script) was based. I liked the book every bit as much as I remember liking the film. It's a book about lonely people and the ways in which they may attach in order not to feel so lonely. Predictably, it is sad, and ultimately really messy. But Bram is a good writer--sensitive and manly at the same time. That isn't an easy balance to strike.
Whit by Iain Banks. OK, confession. Iain Banks is one of my favorite authors. I haven't ever read any of his science fiction (published under the name "Iain M. Banks"), but his straight fiction, which admittedly often deals with popular sci fi themes like surveillance/loss of privacy
is really good. The Wasp Factory is one of my top 20 favorite books and Complicity is in my top 5 list for light pleasure reading. (It's a damn exciting book. And I think that it was made into a film with super-hottie Jonny Lee Miller, but I've never actually seen it.)
Anyway, Whit is the story of a young woman who has been brought up in a religious cult in Northern Scotland and who has been tapped by the cult's leader (her grandfather) to become his heir apparent. One of the younger members of the cult, the girl's cousin, becomes "lost" in London, and the girl is sent to find her. What is interesting about the novel is the sort of Alice-in-Wonderland experiences and perspective of a young adult who has lived in the world, but not really engaged in the world. The plot itself is less impressive than the perspective of, and ultimately the decisions made by, this character.
Book of Evidence by John Banville. It seems like Camus already wrote this book. And IT was better.
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. Yes, it is true, I've never read this before. And now that I have, I don't really see the big deal. Because, here's the thing, I don't really care about Bertha. Is that wrong of me? (Just another example of how I'm not a very good feminist.)
Watership Down by Richard Adams. I know what you are thinking. "That book about rabbits?" I've been putting reading this for years. It's actually a totally fascinating book. In the introduction, Adams writes that he means the book to be a children's story, and he denies that it is a satire or allegory (clearly he is trying to say that this is not his Animal Farm). But the book chronicles the story of a group of rabbits who leave their warren after one of them has a premonition about the destruction of the warren at the hands of men. The motley group (of all male rabbits--this becomes a problem later in the novel) travels over the English countryside looking for a suitable new home. Along the way they encounter natural enemies, make unusual alliances, and encounter other rabbit cultures, which certainly beg to be read as political allegories. The group finally settles and builds its own ideal society, only to realize that mates are necessary in order for the society to continue and flourish. This is a book about survival, mating and parenting, and death. It's tone and subject are very serious. The rabbits are not cute, and most of them begin the journey the bunny equivalent of young adults. In no way does this seem like a children's story.
On the other hand, it's about bunny rabbits.
I actually recommend the book highly. It's interesting and a quick read. There are real moments of pathos, of excitement (there's lots of rabbit battles--those guys are scrappy too!), of danger. It doesn't feel like a typical children's "animal fantasy".
***
That's the whole list, kids. Stay tuned for February's picks. So far the list is pretty short (damn student papers!) but I'll try to make some headway before the end of the month.
January pages=3,189
06 August 2008
Series Finales, Revisited
The comments* on my recent post about Moonlighting have made me think that the subject of series finales is something that deserves a little more discussion. Thank you, in particular to OMD and J-Bro for their thoughtful lists.
Here is where we stand. Everyone seems to agree that Six Feet Under wins the prize for the best ending. This is interesting (and I guess that this COULD be a spoiler if you haven't seen the whole series), given the fact that so much of what happened in the final season of the show is actually amazingly irritating. Maybe the writers tried to piss us off so that our expectations were relatively low for the end. I don't know. I'm glad to hear that we are all on the same page about this.
As to the other suggestions:
The Office (UK): I haven't seen the end of the series. But I do wonder about this--I'm not a "fan" of either version of this show, but I've watched a lot of both. Why the weird animosity amongst fans of either show? I mean, they share a general concept, but little else. I think that they both have perfectly enjoyable aspects. I don't see how liking one is mutually exclusive of liking the other. (This said, I would probably HATE it if they tried to make an "American" version of MI-5--although how do you DO that? or of Hustle.) I will finish the series and let you know what I think.
90210: I watched a lot of that g--damn show, but I DIDN'T watch until the end. It just got seriously painful. What even happened in the end? As for SBTB--are you talking about the end of the show proper, J-Bro? Or the end of The College Years? And, seriously, how long is it going to take TV writers to figure out that shows always suck when they follow characters from high school to college?
Buffy/Angel: Not a fan. Although I've seen more total episodes of Angel and I find it, in general, easier to watch.
The West Wing: Again, not a fan. I have a personal bias against this show. I defer to OMD and J-Bro.
Kids in the Hall: Good call, J-Bro, but Roswell? Seriously?
I thought about mentioning the Cheers finale in my original post. But I'm not sure if it was actually good/satisfying. It was the most "important" (whatever that means) finale of our young lives. In my own home, it was likened to the series finale of MASH, which was an almost sacred event. (At least, that is the way that I remember it.)
I thought about The Wonder Years too, but the truth is, I was mightily irritated by the end of that show. Predictably, they tried to wrap things up a little too cleanly. That didn't work for me. Of course, Kevin Arnold (both the kid and the narrative voice) never really worked for me either.
The Arrested Development finale was good, in the sense that it was consistent with the show generally.
Alright. Now, Carnivale. I don't know if I have dealt with my complicated feelings about his show in the blog before. I don't think that I've written about it. And if I did, it was in the old blog. So, here goes: I don't think that it counts in this discussion. In order to be considered as having a "good" series finale (and maybe what we should be talking about here is what criteria for evaluation of the category of "series finale"), I think that the "finale" has to be self-conscious. That is to say, the writers need to know that they are writing the end to a series. My understanding is that this was not the case for Carnivale--that the creators, cast, crew, all thought that they might be making a third season. I believe that I even heard or read somewhere that they knew which character they were going to focus on in the third season. (And I also remember thinking that I surely would have hated the direction in which they meant to take the show.) The open-endedness of the finale, which, OMD, if I am reading you correctly, is part of the reason that you thought it worked, was actually a product of the fact that no one knew that it was the end of the series. Since it was unintentional, I don't think that it can be praised as a satisfying series finale. (This, of course, is sort of a different conversation than whether, given the material conditions under which this series was produced, it "works" as a completed piece of art. It may very well--despite the intentions of its creators/producers.)
By the time Freaks and Geeks ended, did they know they weren't coming back? I liked the end of that show, as well. But I can't remember if it was an intentional finale or not.
One last thought. FSK, I understand your hesitation to get involved with shows, knowing that you may fall in love with them and then be disappointed when they end. But our relationship with TV on DVD isn't that different, at least with regard to this point, as with our relationships writ large in the world. And don't we all (or at least don't you and I?) do too much focusing on the inevitability of the decay of relationships already? Isn't this what keeps us tentative, even self-defeating, about the possibility of meeting new people and incorporating them into our lives? Maybe the lesson here is MORE TV. Maybe the relationship building that happens as we watch, and having to go through the difficult and painful (and lest any of you bitches laugh at me, think back to the end of SFU and tell me that THAT wasn't painful) separation with those shows at the end of the series, and the fact that we then go on to love another show, that all of this actually helps prepare us for real relationships in the world. When the Deadwood film comes out, I may very well avoid seeing it, or reading anything about it, for a long time. But eventually I will see it. And it will not be as painful as I think that it will be. It will not remind me of what I do not have, anymore, but rather of what Deadwood has added to my life.
Book series, by the way, serve this same function. It was very hard to convince myself to read the last Lemony Snicket book, but when I look back, I can't say that I'm not better off for having A Series of Unfortunate Events in my life. Or Gormenghast, TLOTR, Ramona, Kristin Lavransdatter, etcetera.
*With the exclusion of smart ass comments from Qwanty and Marcus about my misspelling of the word "thumb". Thanks, guys.
Here is where we stand. Everyone seems to agree that Six Feet Under wins the prize for the best ending. This is interesting (and I guess that this COULD be a spoiler if you haven't seen the whole series), given the fact that so much of what happened in the final season of the show is actually amazingly irritating. Maybe the writers tried to piss us off so that our expectations were relatively low for the end. I don't know. I'm glad to hear that we are all on the same page about this.
As to the other suggestions:
The Office (UK): I haven't seen the end of the series. But I do wonder about this--I'm not a "fan" of either version of this show, but I've watched a lot of both. Why the weird animosity amongst fans of either show? I mean, they share a general concept, but little else. I think that they both have perfectly enjoyable aspects. I don't see how liking one is mutually exclusive of liking the other. (This said, I would probably HATE it if they tried to make an "American" version of MI-5--although how do you DO that? or of Hustle.) I will finish the series and let you know what I think.
90210: I watched a lot of that g--damn show, but I DIDN'T watch until the end. It just got seriously painful. What even happened in the end? As for SBTB--are you talking about the end of the show proper, J-Bro? Or the end of The College Years? And, seriously, how long is it going to take TV writers to figure out that shows always suck when they follow characters from high school to college?
Buffy/Angel: Not a fan. Although I've seen more total episodes of Angel and I find it, in general, easier to watch.
The West Wing: Again, not a fan. I have a personal bias against this show. I defer to OMD and J-Bro.
Kids in the Hall: Good call, J-Bro, but Roswell? Seriously?
I thought about mentioning the Cheers finale in my original post. But I'm not sure if it was actually good/satisfying. It was the most "important" (whatever that means) finale of our young lives. In my own home, it was likened to the series finale of MASH, which was an almost sacred event. (At least, that is the way that I remember it.)
I thought about The Wonder Years too, but the truth is, I was mightily irritated by the end of that show. Predictably, they tried to wrap things up a little too cleanly. That didn't work for me. Of course, Kevin Arnold (both the kid and the narrative voice) never really worked for me either.
The Arrested Development finale was good, in the sense that it was consistent with the show generally.
Alright. Now, Carnivale. I don't know if I have dealt with my complicated feelings about his show in the blog before. I don't think that I've written about it. And if I did, it was in the old blog. So, here goes: I don't think that it counts in this discussion. In order to be considered as having a "good" series finale (and maybe what we should be talking about here is what criteria for evaluation of the category of "series finale"), I think that the "finale" has to be self-conscious. That is to say, the writers need to know that they are writing the end to a series. My understanding is that this was not the case for Carnivale--that the creators, cast, crew, all thought that they might be making a third season. I believe that I even heard or read somewhere that they knew which character they were going to focus on in the third season. (And I also remember thinking that I surely would have hated the direction in which they meant to take the show.) The open-endedness of the finale, which, OMD, if I am reading you correctly, is part of the reason that you thought it worked, was actually a product of the fact that no one knew that it was the end of the series. Since it was unintentional, I don't think that it can be praised as a satisfying series finale. (This, of course, is sort of a different conversation than whether, given the material conditions under which this series was produced, it "works" as a completed piece of art. It may very well--despite the intentions of its creators/producers.)
By the time Freaks and Geeks ended, did they know they weren't coming back? I liked the end of that show, as well. But I can't remember if it was an intentional finale or not.
One last thought. FSK, I understand your hesitation to get involved with shows, knowing that you may fall in love with them and then be disappointed when they end. But our relationship with TV on DVD isn't that different, at least with regard to this point, as with our relationships writ large in the world. And don't we all (or at least don't you and I?) do too much focusing on the inevitability of the decay of relationships already? Isn't this what keeps us tentative, even self-defeating, about the possibility of meeting new people and incorporating them into our lives? Maybe the lesson here is MORE TV. Maybe the relationship building that happens as we watch, and having to go through the difficult and painful (and lest any of you bitches laugh at me, think back to the end of SFU and tell me that THAT wasn't painful) separation with those shows at the end of the series, and the fact that we then go on to love another show, that all of this actually helps prepare us for real relationships in the world. When the Deadwood film comes out, I may very well avoid seeing it, or reading anything about it, for a long time. But eventually I will see it. And it will not be as painful as I think that it will be. It will not remind me of what I do not have, anymore, but rather of what Deadwood has added to my life.
Book series, by the way, serve this same function. It was very hard to convince myself to read the last Lemony Snicket book, but when I look back, I can't say that I'm not better off for having A Series of Unfortunate Events in my life. Or Gormenghast, TLOTR, Ramona, Kristin Lavransdatter, etcetera.
*With the exclusion of smart ass comments from Qwanty and Marcus about my misspelling of the word "thumb". Thanks, guys.
16 July 2008
What I Consume
My mother and I are having a good-natured competition to see which one of us will read the greatest number of books in this calendar year. So far we are neck and neck. She reads more consistently than I do, but I read faster. I am also keeping track of my total number of pages, but I don't think that she does. Right now I'm trying to read through things that I've been half done with for a long time. I figure that I can't really transport the next-to-my-bed stack of books. As a result, my reading list has been particularly schizophrenic recently. Here are the things that I've read in the past two weeks:
1. A best seller that mixes the Dracula legend and academic mystery/thriller.
2. A popular history of GIN.
3. A book of negative reviews of "classic" albums.
4. A collection of short stories about psychotherapy, based on actual cases from the therapy career of the author.
5. A "comic" novel about a British royal couple who try to reclaim the U.S. for the Crown.
6. A parenting book. (Don't ask.)
7. A terrible book of short stories about a 20-something chick who moves to Austin with her cousin. Most of the stories are about trying to get into Tom Waits shows. I hated it.
8. A thriller by Eric Ambler--the "father" of the modern political thriller. He's awesome.
I'm halfway through (and will finish tonight) a novel about an Indian (from India) myth about a princess with five husbands. It's actually pretty good. Normally I have a rule against reading anything that takes place in India (long story) but this one is making me rethink the rule a little. (Have I mentioned before that I also have rules against a) books that begin on a boat b) leisure activities that require renting shoes and c) films that star Angelina Jolie--except for Hackers, but that is because the presence of the fabulous Johnnie Lee Miller trumps all other rules. I'd also bowl or ice skate with him.)
I've also been watching a lot of rented movies while I pack. They include:
1. Cleaner.
2. Shopgirl.
3. Charlie Bartlett. (Liked it a lot. It felt like an old-fashioned teen flick. AND I couldn't love Robert Downey Jr. more. More on this film later.)
4. The Hammer. (Adorable, actually.)
5. Sleuth. (Not as good as the original, but Harold Pinter wrote the screenplay, and gets interviewed in the extras. I love Harold Pinter.)
I have the first season of Hill Street Blues to keep me company for the rest of my packing. More on that coming.
1. A best seller that mixes the Dracula legend and academic mystery/thriller.
2. A popular history of GIN.
3. A book of negative reviews of "classic" albums.
4. A collection of short stories about psychotherapy, based on actual cases from the therapy career of the author.
5. A "comic" novel about a British royal couple who try to reclaim the U.S. for the Crown.
6. A parenting book. (Don't ask.)
7. A terrible book of short stories about a 20-something chick who moves to Austin with her cousin. Most of the stories are about trying to get into Tom Waits shows. I hated it.
8. A thriller by Eric Ambler--the "father" of the modern political thriller. He's awesome.
I'm halfway through (and will finish tonight) a novel about an Indian (from India) myth about a princess with five husbands. It's actually pretty good. Normally I have a rule against reading anything that takes place in India (long story) but this one is making me rethink the rule a little. (Have I mentioned before that I also have rules against a) books that begin on a boat b) leisure activities that require renting shoes and c) films that star Angelina Jolie--except for Hackers, but that is because the presence of the fabulous Johnnie Lee Miller trumps all other rules. I'd also bowl or ice skate with him.)
I've also been watching a lot of rented movies while I pack. They include:
1. Cleaner.
2. Shopgirl.
3. Charlie Bartlett. (Liked it a lot. It felt like an old-fashioned teen flick. AND I couldn't love Robert Downey Jr. more. More on this film later.)
4. The Hammer. (Adorable, actually.)
5. Sleuth. (Not as good as the original, but Harold Pinter wrote the screenplay, and gets interviewed in the extras. I love Harold Pinter.)
I have the first season of Hill Street Blues to keep me company for the rest of my packing. More on that coming.
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