Thrice Unhappy Booklog
Jun. 13th, 2008 09:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofoneThanks for all the book recommendations! I ended up getting my father two books he will probably not like (for the insanely curious, that would be Oh, Play That Thing by Roddy Doyle and Life After God by Douglas Coupland), but as for myself, I’m enjoying going through all the recs and mooching what I can while wishlisting others. (I’ve also started reading World War Z, which ought to please a lot of you—especially ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dancinbutterfly. *g*)
Now, here are some of the books that made me so cranky in the first place:
87. Severance Package, Duane Swierczynski — Mindless violence thinly disguised with a plot about spies or something. Basically: the boss of a financial company that’s actually the cover for a CIA splinter cell—paging Arvin Sloane—has been given orders to liquidate his branch, so he calls a group of employees—some agents and some not—into work on a Saturday, tells them the doors have all been rigged with sarin gas, and gives them the option of drinking poisoned champagne or being shot in the head. But there’s a rogue rogue agent in their midst, and soon everyone’s fighting and killing each other willy-nilly.
I’ll admit, I came to this wanting some mindless violence—it’s hard to mistake the book for anything but what it is—but this was still pretty blah. The top villain is—swear to god—a disgruntled former Olympic gymnast whose career was ruined by an injury, and since I just saw that exact same plot point in an episode of Chuck…ahahahahaha. Also, there’s a dumb “twist” ending that makes the book even more pointless than it would have been otherwise. Next time I’m in this mood, remind me just to reread Battle Royale or something.
88. Touch Me, I’m Sick, Tom Reynolds — Reynolds skewers “The 52 Creepiest Love Songs You’ve Ever Heard.” Well, sometimes he skewers; often he just analyzes them. The book is funny, but nowhere near as funny as Dave Barry’s Book of Bad Songs, which is the super-high standard I have to hold books like this against. I also wish Reynolds had focused less on songs that are intentionally creepy, like “Every Breath You Take” and “Possession,” and more on songs that are creepy because of some other factor, like the creator’s secret psychosis. (You know what I mean: what about The Flamingos’ version of “I Only Have Eyes For You” or Johnny Mathis’ “Wonderful! Wonderful!” or “Welcome Home” by Peters & Lee, which is made even creepier by this see-it-to-believe-it cover art?) Still, it’s a pretty enjoyable book, and yes, there is something DEEPLY wrong about “Your Body Is a Wonderland”!
89. Orphans of Chaos, John C. Wright — In which a cool opening about a quintet of orphans with amnesia being held captive by their teachers in the English countryside is ruined by the author’s deeply skeevy sexual politics. I knew I was in trouble the first time the—supposedly kickass and named for Amelia Earhart—female protagonist said in her narration (I’m paraphrasing but only slightly), “What woman doesn’t secretly want to kiss a man who’s pinned her down and won’t let her go?” UM, I DON’T AND I BET THE MAJORITY OF YOUR RAPIDLY FLEEING FEMALE READERS DON’T EITHER. The skeeviness continues, with Amelia—who despite her up-for-debate actual age, is in the body of a 14-year-old—being forced by her supposed friends to dress as a slutty maid and serve them, being erotically spanked by the headmaster, being preyed upon in various ways by the lecherous gardener, being forcibly decked out in a skanky dress and makeup and chained to a wall with a big metal collar for said gardener’s pleasure… I could sadly go on. I did go on—out of some small hope that the book would end with Amelia SOUNDLY WHOOPING ALL THEIR ASSES, but instead it concludes with her essentially getting her mind raped too as the setup for the next book in the series. Oh boy. You can bet I’ll be queuing up for that.
As if the author’s icky underage non-con bondage fantasies weren’t enough (and believe me, THEY ARE), as soon as what’s actually going on is revealed, the book becomes vastly less interesting. Wright seems to be employing an “everything but the kitchen sink” take on mythology, and actually, I think he may have thrown the sink in there, too. I believe it was being carried by the God of MY NASTY KINKS AND DISTURBING ATTITUDES TOWARD WOMEN: LET ME SHOW YOU THEM.
90. Weapons of Choice, John Birmingham — A cool idea—an international naval fleet from 2021 is transported back in time to the Battle of Midway in WWII—is made dull by being a zillion pages long and full of stock characters and constant POV shifts. This is another “Man” book—overly lengthy and much more interested in the technical specifications than in the people. It’s the first volume of a trilogy, but I found it such a slog that I definitely won’t be continuing.
91. The Haunted House, Charles Dickens, et. al. — One of Dickens’ Christmas annuals, I actually felt rather bad for the guy while reading this. As Wesley Stace explains in the introduction, Dickens gave the writers he assembled to pen the special—including Elizabeth Gaskell and Wilkie Collins—very specific instructions for what he wanted and how he wanted all the stories in the collection to fit together; these were almost completely ignored. In fact, pretty much only Dickens’ own story sticks to his original premise. Thus, while the individual works make sense—and are even, in some cases, not boring moralistic tales—the connecting story makes no sense whatsoever. I spent the (thankfully short) length of the book feeling very annoyed—on Dickens’ behalf, yes, but really, mostly, on my own. Bah, humbug.
92. Adiós to My Old Life, Caridad Ferrer — Really solid and sweet YA book about 17-year-old Cuban-American Ali, who auditions for and becomes one of the unexpected stars of “the Latin American Idol.” This book won a RITA award, but the romance really isn’t the focus; what the story spends the most time on, and where it’s the strongest, is Ali’s relationship with her father and her passion for music. I wish in some ways that more of the conflict had come from Ali struggling to be good enough—instead, you pretty much have to accept that she’s already a freakin’ amazing musician and her struggles are almost all external, often stemming from the show’s resident bitch, Fabiana. The story’s kind of predictable, but it’s well told and vivid and Ali’s (and Ferrer’s) love of music really comes through.
93. Jigs & Reels, Joanne Harris — These short stories suffer from being rather unsubtle and predictable: almost all of them end with an anvilicious “twist” or “punchline”—in fact, two of them end with the exact same “did you see what I did there?” move. (The horribly shallow subject of the tale—is actually a child! What a sad commentary on our times! *nods solemnly*) There are some interesting ideas or starts of ideas in here, and Harris is certainly a competent and at times quite evocative writer, but the repetitive “buh-dum-ching!” pattern of the endings of almost all these stories—and a weird, unfinished, this-is-stopping-just-as-it’s-getting-interesting aspect to some of the others—really didn’t work for me. Harris says in her introduction that she has a harder time with short fiction than with novels; I empathize, but I shouldn’t be able to see it on the page.
Total Books: 93
dancinbutterfly. *g*)Now, here are some of the books that made me so cranky in the first place:
87. Severance Package, Duane Swierczynski — Mindless violence thinly disguised with a plot about spies or something. Basically: the boss of a financial company that’s actually the cover for a CIA splinter cell—paging Arvin Sloane—has been given orders to liquidate his branch, so he calls a group of employees—some agents and some not—into work on a Saturday, tells them the doors have all been rigged with sarin gas, and gives them the option of drinking poisoned champagne or being shot in the head. But there’s a rogue rogue agent in their midst, and soon everyone’s fighting and killing each other willy-nilly.
I’ll admit, I came to this wanting some mindless violence—it’s hard to mistake the book for anything but what it is—but this was still pretty blah. The top villain is—swear to god—a disgruntled former Olympic gymnast whose career was ruined by an injury, and since I just saw that exact same plot point in an episode of Chuck…ahahahahaha. Also, there’s a dumb “twist” ending that makes the book even more pointless than it would have been otherwise. Next time I’m in this mood, remind me just to reread Battle Royale or something.
88. Touch Me, I’m Sick, Tom Reynolds — Reynolds skewers “The 52 Creepiest Love Songs You’ve Ever Heard.” Well, sometimes he skewers; often he just analyzes them. The book is funny, but nowhere near as funny as Dave Barry’s Book of Bad Songs, which is the super-high standard I have to hold books like this against. I also wish Reynolds had focused less on songs that are intentionally creepy, like “Every Breath You Take” and “Possession,” and more on songs that are creepy because of some other factor, like the creator’s secret psychosis. (You know what I mean: what about The Flamingos’ version of “I Only Have Eyes For You” or Johnny Mathis’ “Wonderful! Wonderful!” or “Welcome Home” by Peters & Lee, which is made even creepier by this see-it-to-believe-it cover art?) Still, it’s a pretty enjoyable book, and yes, there is something DEEPLY wrong about “Your Body Is a Wonderland”!
89. Orphans of Chaos, John C. Wright — In which a cool opening about a quintet of orphans with amnesia being held captive by their teachers in the English countryside is ruined by the author’s deeply skeevy sexual politics. I knew I was in trouble the first time the—supposedly kickass and named for Amelia Earhart—female protagonist said in her narration (I’m paraphrasing but only slightly), “What woman doesn’t secretly want to kiss a man who’s pinned her down and won’t let her go?” UM, I DON’T AND I BET THE MAJORITY OF YOUR RAPIDLY FLEEING FEMALE READERS DON’T EITHER. The skeeviness continues, with Amelia—who despite her up-for-debate actual age, is in the body of a 14-year-old—being forced by her supposed friends to dress as a slutty maid and serve them, being erotically spanked by the headmaster, being preyed upon in various ways by the lecherous gardener, being forcibly decked out in a skanky dress and makeup and chained to a wall with a big metal collar for said gardener’s pleasure… I could sadly go on. I did go on—out of some small hope that the book would end with Amelia SOUNDLY WHOOPING ALL THEIR ASSES, but instead it concludes with her essentially getting her mind raped too as the setup for the next book in the series. Oh boy. You can bet I’ll be queuing up for that.
As if the author’s icky underage non-con bondage fantasies weren’t enough (and believe me, THEY ARE), as soon as what’s actually going on is revealed, the book becomes vastly less interesting. Wright seems to be employing an “everything but the kitchen sink” take on mythology, and actually, I think he may have thrown the sink in there, too. I believe it was being carried by the God of MY NASTY KINKS AND DISTURBING ATTITUDES TOWARD WOMEN: LET ME SHOW YOU THEM.
90. Weapons of Choice, John Birmingham — A cool idea—an international naval fleet from 2021 is transported back in time to the Battle of Midway in WWII—is made dull by being a zillion pages long and full of stock characters and constant POV shifts. This is another “Man” book—overly lengthy and much more interested in the technical specifications than in the people. It’s the first volume of a trilogy, but I found it such a slog that I definitely won’t be continuing.
91. The Haunted House, Charles Dickens, et. al. — One of Dickens’ Christmas annuals, I actually felt rather bad for the guy while reading this. As Wesley Stace explains in the introduction, Dickens gave the writers he assembled to pen the special—including Elizabeth Gaskell and Wilkie Collins—very specific instructions for what he wanted and how he wanted all the stories in the collection to fit together; these were almost completely ignored. In fact, pretty much only Dickens’ own story sticks to his original premise. Thus, while the individual works make sense—and are even, in some cases, not boring moralistic tales—the connecting story makes no sense whatsoever. I spent the (thankfully short) length of the book feeling very annoyed—on Dickens’ behalf, yes, but really, mostly, on my own. Bah, humbug.
92. Adiós to My Old Life, Caridad Ferrer — Really solid and sweet YA book about 17-year-old Cuban-American Ali, who auditions for and becomes one of the unexpected stars of “the Latin American Idol.” This book won a RITA award, but the romance really isn’t the focus; what the story spends the most time on, and where it’s the strongest, is Ali’s relationship with her father and her passion for music. I wish in some ways that more of the conflict had come from Ali struggling to be good enough—instead, you pretty much have to accept that she’s already a freakin’ amazing musician and her struggles are almost all external, often stemming from the show’s resident bitch, Fabiana. The story’s kind of predictable, but it’s well told and vivid and Ali’s (and Ferrer’s) love of music really comes through.
93. Jigs & Reels, Joanne Harris — These short stories suffer from being rather unsubtle and predictable: almost all of them end with an anvilicious “twist” or “punchline”—in fact, two of them end with the exact same “did you see what I did there?” move. (The horribly shallow subject of the tale—is actually a child! What a sad commentary on our times! *nods solemnly*) There are some interesting ideas or starts of ideas in here, and Harris is certainly a competent and at times quite evocative writer, but the repetitive “buh-dum-ching!” pattern of the endings of almost all these stories—and a weird, unfinished, this-is-stopping-just-as-it’s-getting-interesting aspect to some of the others—really didn’t work for me. Harris says in her introduction that she has a harder time with short fiction than with novels; I empathize, but I shouldn’t be able to see it on the page.
Total Books: 93
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 04:42 pm (UTC)And I was hoping the revelation would be really, really good. The description sounds like a clever, but twisted, plot. *sighs* I'll still give it a go, but I may have to skip over all the scenes with Amelia.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 04:52 pm (UTC)That would be the entire book.
Now, if it were a man in bondage (a la Sheppard or Lorne), that'd be another story.
Not for me, it wouldn't. See, it's not the bondage that bothers me, or even, necessarily, the underage sexual shenanigans—it's the attitude behind them. Whether it's a man or a woman, a girl or a boy, in the situation, if the authorial attitude is, "Character X is being restrained and spanked and it makes them feel dirty and icky and out of control and they hate it—but secretly they really like it!" then this is something I don't want to be reading. It makes me :(
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 05:00 pm (UTC)I can handle that if it's written well, and not...soap opera-ish, is what comes to mind. But I have to agree, that's something that I can have reading too. I think what'll be more difficult for me, though, is the underage thing. I had problems watching Pretear, for god's sake. If THAT made me uncomfortable, reading about underage female sexual whatever will just...ick. Ick ick.
Maybe I should just stick with Fandom books. Still have to catch up with Babylon 5...
PS: After reading your review, I went to find some other reviews of the book. They all seemed pretty positive, focusing on the plot and mythological use and such. Then I noticed all the reviewers I've found (thus far, so not nearly enough) are men. They mention coming of age, and the "hint of sexual identity that emerges when one becomes a teenager", but nothing about what you've talked about. That...unsettles me. *goes to hunt out female reviewer*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 05:10 pm (UTC)A spanking scene involving the precocious Amelia Armstrong Windrose, who can travel into the fourth dimension, may offend some readers, but others will find it playful.
Playful? PLAYFUL? *froths a bit*
There are some female reviewers on GoodReads (http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/186689.Orphans_of_Chaos)?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 05:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-13 05:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-17 02:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-17 04:23 pm (UTC)