Booklog 2008: Catch-Up Post the Second
Apr. 23rd, 2008 10:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofone11. Bachelor Brothers’ Bed & Breakfast, Bill Richardson — Fuzzy Canadian comforting reading, in which two unmarried brothers run a bed and breakfast for bibliophiles. Manages to stay just to this side of twee, thanks to a hint of loneliness and melancholia. There’s a sequel, too, which I may get to eventually.
12. Golden Days, Carolyn See — What a strange reading experience this was. I spent the first three-fourths of this novel HATING it—I hated the narrator, who I found racist, classist, and just plain unpleasant; I hated the purported “feminism” the characters spouted, which to me boiled down to an icky “men are pricks, so let’s take ‘em for all they’re worth!” philosophy; I hated the depiction of L.A., which was not my L.A. at all (when is it ever?). But then, well…the world ends. All the apocalyptic anxiety that weaves its way through the rest of the book pays off, and pays off big time; See does not flinch away. The bombs drop and a small group of survivors live on in Topanga Canyon, despite horrible burns, starvation, radiation poisoning. See’s depiction of the post-apocalyptic world and the way her characters react to it seem really plausible to me; I believed in this destroyed L.A. more than I believed in the pre-destruction “real” one. And there are some truly amazing images, like that of the beaches hugging the Pacific Ocean all turned to glass. *shivers* Until I hit the ending, I was planning to give my copy of this book away, but now I’m keeping it because I know I’ll want to revisit the final fourth in the future. I doubt I’ll ever read the beginning or middle again. I’m not sure what this says about the book or about me.
13. A Complicated Kindness, Miriam Toews — A fairly average coming-of-age story, with the only exceptional part being the fact that the protagonist is a Mennonite. I should probably stop reading books like this, considering that, as with Juno, I have a hard time believing in teenagers like Nomi. I would have probably been better off just rereading Franny and Zooey or some other Salinger (whom Toews does reference) and calling it quits.
14. Your Planet or Mine?, Susan Grant — Ever on the search for tales of sexy sex with sexy aliens, I decided to try Harlequin’s take. Not a good move. This isn’t terrible, but—okay, it’s just really not good. The sci-fi elements are kind of laughable, the aliens are not very alien at all, and the plot is virtually a very (VERY) watered-down version of Terminator. In fact, Grant references Terminator and Arnold Schwarzenegger a bunch of times. Yet when the protagonist, a California state senator, interacts with the governor—described as a former action star with a funny accent and a Kennedy offshoot for a wife—it’s not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Which means it’s an AU where Arnold exists and made Terminator, but isn’t governor—someone exactly like him but with a different name is. Man, I hate stuff like that. Is it stupid that that bothered me? ’Cause darn it, it did, it did.
Also bothersome: the yawn-inducing, twu luv/destined to be together since they were children/“he cured my stuttering!” style of romance present herein. I’m officially bored now. And when I’m not bored, I’m still pissed off about that stupid Arnold Schwarzenegger thing.
15. 52: Vol. 1, Geoff Johns, et. al. — Aww, jeeze. I think I honestly read this because “it was there,” my library’s collection of comic books being really not the best. It was okay, but I’ve never really read much DC (Make mine Marvel! Or, well, Vertigo), so it lacked resonance for me.
16. Poison Study, Maria V. Snyder — This book struck a rare balance for me: the prose was weak, but the plot and setting and characters were actually enough to pull me along anyway. I even liked the romance, at least until the main characters started getting all soppy and declarative. The supporting characters had enough spark to make me care about them, too, and there was some interesting and surprising stuff about gender. Maybe I was just in an unusually good mood when I read this, but I had a great time with it and gobbled it up.
17. The Changeover, Margaret Mahy — I think my enjoyment of this suffered somewhat from it being over-hyped—a lot of people on GR love it, while I just…liked it quite a bit. Everything I can think to say about it is positive: loved the slight exoticism of the New Zealand setting; thought the characters were complex and interesting; was impressed by the frankness about sex and growing up; dug the central metaphor; appreciated the genuine creepiness. It’s a really good book. It just didn’t, for whatever reason, wow me. I think this is more a case of me being capricious than anything else.
18. Now and Forever, Ray Bradbury — I was recently discussing with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runpunkrun the sad fact that, the older I get, the less I appreciate Bradbury’s prose. After I wrote Something Wicked, I reread Something Wicked This Way Comes and was sad to have it not live up to my memory (especially the second half); Now and Forever only reinforced my impression of OMG SO PURPLE. I’m now kind of afraid to reread Fahrenheit 451.
Now and Forever is composed of two novellas. The first, “Somewhere a Band is Playing,” practically oozes small-town nostalgia and fear of SCARY SCARY PROGRESS; I found it disappointingly trite. “Leviathan ’99,” the second story, I enjoyed a bit more: it’s Moby-Dick in space. Moby-Dick in space! Bradbury’s purple prose actually sort of works for a Melville-pastiche; I was amused. (Thoughastolat’s Aubrey/Maturin in space is still way, way better.)
Overall: eh. However, I got it from the library and read it in its entirety in the course of one day’s commute, so…
19. The Kindness of Strangers, Mike McIntyre — In which the author, a Bay Area journalist, decides to try to travel across the United States without a penny in his pocket, relying purely on Blanche DuBois’ staple. This is both a compelling travel narrative and an interesting look at human psychology. Almost all the people who help Mike are damaged in some way. Most, if not all, are poor, and yet still give more than they can afford to. So it’s in many ways a very moving book. At times it’s also nerve-wracking: there are a lot of scary, dangerous people wandering America’s highways, and Mike has some tense encounters with them, including on his very first ride, getting picked up by a guy who takes him somewhere secluded and propositions him. I hate that this is the kind of project I could never repeat—that even a solo road trip in my own car could be a bit dangerous for me. Yes, there are a lot of kind strangers out there—they may even be in the majority—but in many ways, the unspoken message of this book is how very, very lucky its author was.
Anyway, if you can track this book down—sadly, I think it’s out of print—I definitely recommend it. It’s a fascinating look at many of America’s less-seen faces.
20. The Harrowing, Alexandra Sokoloff — A simple ghost story stretched rather too long and with a bit too much emo for my tastes. Robin is a college student with angst—do you hear me? ANGST—who stays in her dorm over Thanksgiving instead of going home to her crazy (and ANGST-causing!) mom. She meets four other outcast-types, and then they all accidentally raise an evil spirit. As one does.
The first few séance-y scenes are the best in the book; Robin’s emo, which makes the first section drag, is finally sidelined, and there’s some fun creepy stuff. But there’s a lot of the characters being too dumb to realize REALLY OBVIOUS THINGS, and while the evil spirit they’ve conjured has an interesting and unusual origin story, it’s not enough to save the ending from feeling like the slightly sleepy lovechild of The Exorcist and The Shining. Further, the resolution is a little too pat, the-authorities-really-bought-that?-style (It was gang members! Gang members on PCPs!), and there’s also a totally unnecessary epilogue of the you-think-it’s-over-but-it’s-not-really-over variety. I really appreciate the mere EXISTENCE of a horror novel that has women in active roles, and even being a little bit kickass, but other that the protagonist’s sex, this book doesn’t really have much to distinguish it from any other scary story.
Total Reviews: 20/66
12. Golden Days, Carolyn See — What a strange reading experience this was. I spent the first three-fourths of this novel HATING it—I hated the narrator, who I found racist, classist, and just plain unpleasant; I hated the purported “feminism” the characters spouted, which to me boiled down to an icky “men are pricks, so let’s take ‘em for all they’re worth!” philosophy; I hated the depiction of L.A., which was not my L.A. at all (when is it ever?). But then, well…the world ends. All the apocalyptic anxiety that weaves its way through the rest of the book pays off, and pays off big time; See does not flinch away. The bombs drop and a small group of survivors live on in Topanga Canyon, despite horrible burns, starvation, radiation poisoning. See’s depiction of the post-apocalyptic world and the way her characters react to it seem really plausible to me; I believed in this destroyed L.A. more than I believed in the pre-destruction “real” one. And there are some truly amazing images, like that of the beaches hugging the Pacific Ocean all turned to glass. *shivers* Until I hit the ending, I was planning to give my copy of this book away, but now I’m keeping it because I know I’ll want to revisit the final fourth in the future. I doubt I’ll ever read the beginning or middle again. I’m not sure what this says about the book or about me.
13. A Complicated Kindness, Miriam Toews — A fairly average coming-of-age story, with the only exceptional part being the fact that the protagonist is a Mennonite. I should probably stop reading books like this, considering that, as with Juno, I have a hard time believing in teenagers like Nomi. I would have probably been better off just rereading Franny and Zooey or some other Salinger (whom Toews does reference) and calling it quits.
14. Your Planet or Mine?, Susan Grant — Ever on the search for tales of sexy sex with sexy aliens, I decided to try Harlequin’s take. Not a good move. This isn’t terrible, but—okay, it’s just really not good. The sci-fi elements are kind of laughable, the aliens are not very alien at all, and the plot is virtually a very (VERY) watered-down version of Terminator. In fact, Grant references Terminator and Arnold Schwarzenegger a bunch of times. Yet when the protagonist, a California state senator, interacts with the governor—described as a former action star with a funny accent and a Kennedy offshoot for a wife—it’s not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Which means it’s an AU where Arnold exists and made Terminator, but isn’t governor—someone exactly like him but with a different name is. Man, I hate stuff like that. Is it stupid that that bothered me? ’Cause darn it, it did, it did.
Also bothersome: the yawn-inducing, twu luv/destined to be together since they were children/“he cured my stuttering!” style of romance present herein. I’m officially bored now. And when I’m not bored, I’m still pissed off about that stupid Arnold Schwarzenegger thing.
15. 52: Vol. 1, Geoff Johns, et. al. — Aww, jeeze. I think I honestly read this because “it was there,” my library’s collection of comic books being really not the best. It was okay, but I’ve never really read much DC (Make mine Marvel! Or, well, Vertigo), so it lacked resonance for me.
16. Poison Study, Maria V. Snyder — This book struck a rare balance for me: the prose was weak, but the plot and setting and characters were actually enough to pull me along anyway. I even liked the romance, at least until the main characters started getting all soppy and declarative. The supporting characters had enough spark to make me care about them, too, and there was some interesting and surprising stuff about gender. Maybe I was just in an unusually good mood when I read this, but I had a great time with it and gobbled it up.
17. The Changeover, Margaret Mahy — I think my enjoyment of this suffered somewhat from it being over-hyped—a lot of people on GR love it, while I just…liked it quite a bit. Everything I can think to say about it is positive: loved the slight exoticism of the New Zealand setting; thought the characters were complex and interesting; was impressed by the frankness about sex and growing up; dug the central metaphor; appreciated the genuine creepiness. It’s a really good book. It just didn’t, for whatever reason, wow me. I think this is more a case of me being capricious than anything else.
18. Now and Forever, Ray Bradbury — I was recently discussing with
runpunkrun the sad fact that, the older I get, the less I appreciate Bradbury’s prose. After I wrote Something Wicked, I reread Something Wicked This Way Comes and was sad to have it not live up to my memory (especially the second half); Now and Forever only reinforced my impression of OMG SO PURPLE. I’m now kind of afraid to reread Fahrenheit 451.Now and Forever is composed of two novellas. The first, “Somewhere a Band is Playing,” practically oozes small-town nostalgia and fear of SCARY SCARY PROGRESS; I found it disappointingly trite. “Leviathan ’99,” the second story, I enjoyed a bit more: it’s Moby-Dick in space. Moby-Dick in space! Bradbury’s purple prose actually sort of works for a Melville-pastiche; I was amused. (Though
astolat’s Aubrey/Maturin in space is still way, way better.)Overall: eh. However, I got it from the library and read it in its entirety in the course of one day’s commute, so…
19. The Kindness of Strangers, Mike McIntyre — In which the author, a Bay Area journalist, decides to try to travel across the United States without a penny in his pocket, relying purely on Blanche DuBois’ staple. This is both a compelling travel narrative and an interesting look at human psychology. Almost all the people who help Mike are damaged in some way. Most, if not all, are poor, and yet still give more than they can afford to. So it’s in many ways a very moving book. At times it’s also nerve-wracking: there are a lot of scary, dangerous people wandering America’s highways, and Mike has some tense encounters with them, including on his very first ride, getting picked up by a guy who takes him somewhere secluded and propositions him. I hate that this is the kind of project I could never repeat—that even a solo road trip in my own car could be a bit dangerous for me. Yes, there are a lot of kind strangers out there—they may even be in the majority—but in many ways, the unspoken message of this book is how very, very lucky its author was.
Anyway, if you can track this book down—sadly, I think it’s out of print—I definitely recommend it. It’s a fascinating look at many of America’s less-seen faces.
20. The Harrowing, Alexandra Sokoloff — A simple ghost story stretched rather too long and with a bit too much emo for my tastes. Robin is a college student with angst—do you hear me? ANGST—who stays in her dorm over Thanksgiving instead of going home to her crazy (and ANGST-causing!) mom. She meets four other outcast-types, and then they all accidentally raise an evil spirit. As one does.
The first few séance-y scenes are the best in the book; Robin’s emo, which makes the first section drag, is finally sidelined, and there’s some fun creepy stuff. But there’s a lot of the characters being too dumb to realize REALLY OBVIOUS THINGS, and while the evil spirit they’ve conjured has an interesting and unusual origin story, it’s not enough to save the ending from feeling like the slightly sleepy lovechild of The Exorcist and The Shining. Further, the resolution is a little too pat, the-authorities-really-bought-that?-style (It was gang members! Gang members on PCPs!), and there’s also a totally unnecessary epilogue of the you-think-it’s-over-but-it’s-not-really-over variety. I really appreciate the mere EXISTENCE of a horror novel that has women in active roles, and even being a little bit kickass, but other that the protagonist’s sex, this book doesn’t really have much to distinguish it from any other scary story.
Total Reviews: 20/66
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-23 06:47 pm (UTC)I have all these nice old Bradbury paperbacks, some of which I haven't read, and yet I feel progressively less and less keen to.