Booklog 2008: Catch-Up Post the Third
Apr. 24th, 2008 09:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofone21. When You Were Me, Robert Rodi — A queer bodyswap story (!!!), which I found rather enjoyable even when it was, well, kind of stupid. Basically: Jack, the 53-year-old millionaire, swaps with Corey, the 26-year-old aimless quasi-burnout, and more social awkwardness than wackiness ensues. Though slow-paced (it takes almost 200 pages for the switch to occur), there’s something about the narrative that pulls you along. The book’s biggest flaw is, I think, somewhat shaky characterization: I never felt I really got a handle on who Jack and Corey were; I had to adjust my view of them to fit whatever Rodi needed to happen in a particular scene. (This was especially apparent in a passage where Jack (as Corey) yells at and berates Corey’s friend Frida, pretty much for no reason; I finished that chapter suddenly hating him, and then had to be coaxed back into thinking of it as an aberration.) However, the end takes a fun turn, and on the most basic level, I was entertained.
22. Better, Atul Gawande — As with his previous book, Complications, Gawande offers a candid, humorous, and humanizing look at the field of medicine, with specific focus on simple ways he feels doctors could improve. (The opening section, for example, is entitled “On Washing Hands.”) Gawande seems like the type of doctor anyone would feel lucky to have: honest, thoughtful, diligent, not afraid to own up to his own mistakes. His books are fascinating, and while I don’t know how he finds the time to write them, I hope he keeps doing so.
23. Y: The Last Man — Motherland, Brian K. Vaughan — In which everything is explained…and the explanations are actually kind of lame. Oh well. I still really like the characters. I hope the final TP comes out soon, and that it’s awesome. (And if anyone spoils me, I will KILL them.)
24. How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read, Pierre Bayard — Well, I guess at least certain aspects of Bayard’s thesis are correct: I read this book just a few months ago, and with the little that I remember…yeah, I almost might as well’ve not have. I thought I would enjoy some sly academic humor, but for that I probably should have stuck to David Lodge (whom interestingly—okay, actually, it’s not that interesting, but Bayard does discuss him). This book (FROM THE ADMITTEDLY LIMITED AMOUNTS I REMEMBER) isn’t that funny, and it’s neither about any of the things that make me love books or reading, nor (THAT I RECALL) a particularly engaging skewering of literary pretension. So, yes: there’s my half-remembered, half-baked opinion. According to Bayard’s philosophy, it’s gold.
25. The Last Dodo, Jacqueline Rayner — I think the basic premise of this book, in which the Doctor and Martha visit the Museum of the Last Ones, is quite cool; the book in general, however, is rather blah. Not terrible, but it reminds me why I don’t usually bother with tie-in novels (and why, if I need some extra-show kick, fanfic is infinitely preferable): they completely lack the ability to change the status quo. I think it’s the rare tie-in novel in which you’ll encounter a “gasp” moment—a moment where the established paradigm shifts, or a character grows and changes. Those moments are one of the major reasons I enjoy serialized entertainment as much as I do. (That and the pretty pretty boys.) Without them, you’re not left with much. And unlike in fic, in tie-in novels, you don’t even have the expectation of sexxors to spur you on.
Sorry, this has turned into MY THOUGHTS ON TIE-IN NOVELS. Back to this particular tie-in: weaknesses included not particularly interesting OCs, no real Doctor/Martha relationship development (purely platonically, understand), and some headdesky moments whenever Rayner shifts into Martha first-person POV, as opposed to the alternating generic third. I just don’t believe it sounds like that in Martha’s brain—very scattered and fluttery? No. Martha’s a doctor, I want to see her think like a doctor. Also, I really doubt she’d see a black man driving a fire truck and think, “There’s a black man driving a fire truck.” I could be totally off-base, of course, but I think Rayner needs a Characters of Color POV lesson from Neil Gaiman. (Or even better, any writer of color; but see Anansi Boys if you don’t know what I mean. It is possible for white people to do this well.)
I liked all the stuff about the extinct animals, mostly because I like weird facts about things like extinct animals. For that, I’d probably be better off reading Gerald Durrell, though.
HOWEVER, these thoughts are based on my impressions from when I actually read this book, several months ago. Since then, I’ve sat through the Doctor Who S4 premiere. In comparison, this novel seems AWESOME. Way to lower my standards, Rusty.
26. Avalon High, Meg Cabot — King Arthur as high school DRAMA OMG. Quite a bit better than the adult Cabot I’ve read, actually, and there was at least one nice twist. Still the mental equivalent of candy floss, though. And not even, like, awesome maple candy floss from the Addison County Fair, to pick a very specific and increasingly ridiculous analogy. I think there need to be superheroes or buddy-cops to reach that level. At least for me.
I think maybe 1 1/2 sentences of this review were actually on-topic. I win!
27. Fairy Tales, Peter Cashorali — Queer retellings of common, and not-so-common, fairytales. These didn’t really work for me. They make use of a lot of gay clichés—hairdressers, leathermen, etc.—and most seemed to be trying too hard: “SEE WHAT I’M DOING HERE? NUDGE NUDGE.” The whole collection seems dated, which, admittedly, it is: it was published in 1995. Or maybe I’m just really not the target audience; it does say “retold for gay men,” not, um. Female slashers. But all that aside…I guess the most major problem for me was that, for fairytales, these stories were just not very magical. Where was the wonder, the otherworldliness? I like the idea of combining aspects of modern life with traditional stories, but not if you kill the magic.
28. Vicious Circle, Mike Carey — I can barely remember what actually happened in this book, which is always a FABULOUS sign, as you know. I really liked Carey’s comics writing—Lucifer and his run on Hellblazer—but this, the second of his Felix Castor novels, just seems to be continuing the trend of “John Constantine without the awesome.” The plot is a murky mess of demons and sex and violence and conspiracy theories, without any characters strong enough to make me give a shit. All the interesting stuff I was hoping Carey would do with succubus Juliet at the end of the last book never manifested (ha!); instead she’s just sort of…there, and then she leaves Felix to go have hot lesbian sex. Poor Felix. I feel sort of sorry for him, but that’s really all I feel. Is it wrong that I’d prefer my demon-fighting, noirish anti-heroes to be a bit more badass and not such sad sacks? I mean, “sad sacks fight crime!” is sort of an interesting premise, actually, but then I think it would actually have to be funny. You know?
Giving up on this series now, as I probably should have done after the first book. At least now I can sit tight knowing I gave it a fair chance.
29. Lincoln’s Dreams, Connie Willis — I usually love Connie Willis, but this novel failed to click for me. I had several problems: first, Willis asks readers to sympathize with Robert E. Lee, a lot. But even though Americans of my generation are kind of trained, from elementary school on up, to think of Lee as not such a bad guy, my sympathy, frankly, cuts off after a certain point. (Totally different debate here, but: blah blah blah duty, yeah sure; but basic morality trumps duty, okay?) More significant, probably, was how underdeveloped the characters in this felt: by the end I had no idea, really, of what type of guy Jeff was, and Annie I found mostly annoying. The parts of the narrative I found the most interesting were the bits about Lee’s horse Traveller; I’m willing to go out on a limb here and say that the main narrative draw should pretty much never be the horse. (Certain children’s novels excepted.) The whole book almost feels like a warm-up for Passage, and if this is what Willis needed to get out of her system in order to write that book, fine, because Passage is amazing. Lincoln’s Dreams, on the other hand…not so much.
30. The Fug Awards, Heather Cocks & Jessica Morgan — The blog on which this book is based is my favorite daily read—Go Fug Yourself, oh light of my lunch break! The book contains all-new material, and it, too, is very funny, although perhaps not as tea-snarfing hilarious as the site occasionally is. (Sharon Stone offers life advice to Lindsay Lohan: still the funniest post ever, y/n?) Will be curious to see how this weathers, and whether/how much I’ll be laughing if I reread it a year from now—or ten.
Total Reviews: 30/67
22. Better, Atul Gawande — As with his previous book, Complications, Gawande offers a candid, humorous, and humanizing look at the field of medicine, with specific focus on simple ways he feels doctors could improve. (The opening section, for example, is entitled “On Washing Hands.”) Gawande seems like the type of doctor anyone would feel lucky to have: honest, thoughtful, diligent, not afraid to own up to his own mistakes. His books are fascinating, and while I don’t know how he finds the time to write them, I hope he keeps doing so.
23. Y: The Last Man — Motherland, Brian K. Vaughan — In which everything is explained…and the explanations are actually kind of lame. Oh well. I still really like the characters. I hope the final TP comes out soon, and that it’s awesome. (And if anyone spoils me, I will KILL them.)
24. How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read, Pierre Bayard — Well, I guess at least certain aspects of Bayard’s thesis are correct: I read this book just a few months ago, and with the little that I remember…yeah, I almost might as well’ve not have. I thought I would enjoy some sly academic humor, but for that I probably should have stuck to David Lodge (whom interestingly—okay, actually, it’s not that interesting, but Bayard does discuss him). This book (FROM THE ADMITTEDLY LIMITED AMOUNTS I REMEMBER) isn’t that funny, and it’s neither about any of the things that make me love books or reading, nor (THAT I RECALL) a particularly engaging skewering of literary pretension. So, yes: there’s my half-remembered, half-baked opinion. According to Bayard’s philosophy, it’s gold.
25. The Last Dodo, Jacqueline Rayner — I think the basic premise of this book, in which the Doctor and Martha visit the Museum of the Last Ones, is quite cool; the book in general, however, is rather blah. Not terrible, but it reminds me why I don’t usually bother with tie-in novels (and why, if I need some extra-show kick, fanfic is infinitely preferable): they completely lack the ability to change the status quo. I think it’s the rare tie-in novel in which you’ll encounter a “gasp” moment—a moment where the established paradigm shifts, or a character grows and changes. Those moments are one of the major reasons I enjoy serialized entertainment as much as I do. (That and the pretty pretty boys.) Without them, you’re not left with much. And unlike in fic, in tie-in novels, you don’t even have the expectation of sexxors to spur you on.
Sorry, this has turned into MY THOUGHTS ON TIE-IN NOVELS. Back to this particular tie-in: weaknesses included not particularly interesting OCs, no real Doctor/Martha relationship development (purely platonically, understand), and some headdesky moments whenever Rayner shifts into Martha first-person POV, as opposed to the alternating generic third. I just don’t believe it sounds like that in Martha’s brain—very scattered and fluttery? No. Martha’s a doctor, I want to see her think like a doctor. Also, I really doubt she’d see a black man driving a fire truck and think, “There’s a black man driving a fire truck.” I could be totally off-base, of course, but I think Rayner needs a Characters of Color POV lesson from Neil Gaiman. (Or even better, any writer of color; but see Anansi Boys if you don’t know what I mean. It is possible for white people to do this well.)
I liked all the stuff about the extinct animals, mostly because I like weird facts about things like extinct animals. For that, I’d probably be better off reading Gerald Durrell, though.
HOWEVER, these thoughts are based on my impressions from when I actually read this book, several months ago. Since then, I’ve sat through the Doctor Who S4 premiere. In comparison, this novel seems AWESOME. Way to lower my standards, Rusty.
26. Avalon High, Meg Cabot — King Arthur as high school DRAMA OMG. Quite a bit better than the adult Cabot I’ve read, actually, and there was at least one nice twist. Still the mental equivalent of candy floss, though. And not even, like, awesome maple candy floss from the Addison County Fair, to pick a very specific and increasingly ridiculous analogy. I think there need to be superheroes or buddy-cops to reach that level. At least for me.
I think maybe 1 1/2 sentences of this review were actually on-topic. I win!
27. Fairy Tales, Peter Cashorali — Queer retellings of common, and not-so-common, fairytales. These didn’t really work for me. They make use of a lot of gay clichés—hairdressers, leathermen, etc.—and most seemed to be trying too hard: “SEE WHAT I’M DOING HERE? NUDGE NUDGE.” The whole collection seems dated, which, admittedly, it is: it was published in 1995. Or maybe I’m just really not the target audience; it does say “retold for gay men,” not, um. Female slashers. But all that aside…I guess the most major problem for me was that, for fairytales, these stories were just not very magical. Where was the wonder, the otherworldliness? I like the idea of combining aspects of modern life with traditional stories, but not if you kill the magic.
28. Vicious Circle, Mike Carey — I can barely remember what actually happened in this book, which is always a FABULOUS sign, as you know. I really liked Carey’s comics writing—Lucifer and his run on Hellblazer—but this, the second of his Felix Castor novels, just seems to be continuing the trend of “John Constantine without the awesome.” The plot is a murky mess of demons and sex and violence and conspiracy theories, without any characters strong enough to make me give a shit. All the interesting stuff I was hoping Carey would do with succubus Juliet at the end of the last book never manifested (ha!); instead she’s just sort of…there, and then she leaves Felix to go have hot lesbian sex. Poor Felix. I feel sort of sorry for him, but that’s really all I feel. Is it wrong that I’d prefer my demon-fighting, noirish anti-heroes to be a bit more badass and not such sad sacks? I mean, “sad sacks fight crime!” is sort of an interesting premise, actually, but then I think it would actually have to be funny. You know?
Giving up on this series now, as I probably should have done after the first book. At least now I can sit tight knowing I gave it a fair chance.
29. Lincoln’s Dreams, Connie Willis — I usually love Connie Willis, but this novel failed to click for me. I had several problems: first, Willis asks readers to sympathize with Robert E. Lee, a lot. But even though Americans of my generation are kind of trained, from elementary school on up, to think of Lee as not such a bad guy, my sympathy, frankly, cuts off after a certain point. (Totally different debate here, but: blah blah blah duty, yeah sure; but basic morality trumps duty, okay?) More significant, probably, was how underdeveloped the characters in this felt: by the end I had no idea, really, of what type of guy Jeff was, and Annie I found mostly annoying. The parts of the narrative I found the most interesting were the bits about Lee’s horse Traveller; I’m willing to go out on a limb here and say that the main narrative draw should pretty much never be the horse. (Certain children’s novels excepted.) The whole book almost feels like a warm-up for Passage, and if this is what Willis needed to get out of her system in order to write that book, fine, because Passage is amazing. Lincoln’s Dreams, on the other hand…not so much.
30. The Fug Awards, Heather Cocks & Jessica Morgan — The blog on which this book is based is my favorite daily read—Go Fug Yourself, oh light of my lunch break! The book contains all-new material, and it, too, is very funny, although perhaps not as tea-snarfing hilarious as the site occasionally is. (Sharon Stone offers life advice to Lindsay Lohan: still the funniest post ever, y/n?) Will be curious to see how this weathers, and whether/how much I’ll be laughing if I reread it a year from now—or ten.
Total Reviews: 30/67
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Date: 2008-04-25 09:00 am (UTC)Also, the last man really was a robot!