trinityofone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trinityofone) wrote2008-12-27 12:36 pm
trinityofone) wrote2008-12-27 12:36 pm
Entry tags:
Booklog Waiting
Gonna make it...gonna make it...gonna make it...gonna make it?
242. Dave Barry Does Japan, Dave Barry — Very funny, if sadly outdated, account of Barry’s three-week trip to Japan. Were we (and by we I mean Americans) really afraid of Japan in 1992 the way we’re now afraid of China? Huh. It’s amazing—and encouraging—how much opinions can change in 16 years.
This book isn’t really a travel guide—it’s a humor book, and has no pretensions of being anything else. Still, I wish Barry had been a little more willing to try Japanese stuff, rather than simply observe and freak out every time someone tried to get him to eat eel. Eel is delicious, yo. And it’s pretty much a staple of any decent sushi joint here in the States. Again, amazing how the world changes. I will take this to be a happy thing.
If you’re having trouble feeling quite so positive, this book will help. Barry may not be an adventurous eater, but he is hilarious, and that’s what really matters here.
243. The Shadow of Reichenbach Falls, John R. King — Okay, I’m no Sherlockian scholar of any merit, but as someone who has, you know, read most of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes stories at least once, I can say with certainty that if you’ve done the same, this book will make you want to tear your hair out over the inaccuracies and errors. King:
1) Has Moriarty turn evil after he kills Jack the Ripper in 1888 and gets possessed by the demon that was possessing the Ripster. Setting that little plot point aside, this still makes no sense in regards to Holmes canon. Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t The Valley of Fear open at the very beginning of 1888? Moriarty is already Holmes’ nemesis then, so how could he still be a perfectly innocent mathematician at this point?
2) Describes a woman as someone who “voted straight-ticket Tory.” Women did not gain suffrage in Britain until 1918, and not universal suffrage until 1928. Basic history! So basic I caught it! Sheesh.
3) Gives Watson, on first reference, the first name “James.” I’m sure this is supposed to be a reference to the fact that Doyle himself at one time screwed this up, and King later switches to the correct appellation of John, but as the name to use, right out of the gate, from Holmes’ own lips—after he’s been reading one of Watson’s accounts in The Strand, no less!—this is just confusing. And stupid.
I’m sure there’s more, but those are the three that really stuck out for me. They made it hard for me to focus on and enjoy the parts of the novel that were, albeit briefly, enjoyable, namely: Sherlock Holmes with amnesia! Sadly, that plotline, which I would love to read many, many better versions of, is lost under a hackneyed, “Boy’s Own” adventure-type plot, in which amnesiac!Holmes falls in with a pair of young love birds, Mary Sue and Marty Stu. King doesn’t even attempt to emulate Doyle’s style, which, while admittedly exposition-heavy, was magnificently atmospheric; King can’t even inject a bit of life into set-pieces like a horrific Victorian mental hospital, a night chase across the Swiss alps, or a climactic battle at the Louvre. From the dialogue, half the time the characters might as well have been traipsing through the Glendale Galleria. And then Holmes himself is completely removed from the climax! Did I pick up a Sherlock Holmes pastiche because I want to read about Marty Stu defeating a demonic skeleton? No—I want to read about freakin’ Sherlock Holmes! WITH AMNESIA.
That this is bad stings even worse because it could have been so frickin’ cool. Dammit.
244. Castle Waiting, Linda Medley — Charming graphic novel about the characters often left out of—or left behind in—fairy tales. Medley’s world is nicely illustrated and filled with unusual characters, including lots of strong, independent-minded women. The end’s kind of abrupt, lacking the resolution I’d like, but that’s apparently because the series has continued since the publication of this book. I hope the continuation becomes available soon.
245. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Mark Haddon — Reread for bookgroup. Like the first time I read this several years ago, I zipped through it in one sitting, and I think I liked it even better this time. I was especially impressed with how, in the first half of novel, Haddon makes Christopher’s way of looking at the world seem really reasonable (well, to me, anyway) and it’s only after he’s taken out of his element and brought into the broader world that it really becomes clear how difficult things are for him.
This was for the first meeting of the bookgroup that I was attending, so I was meeting everyone for the first time. They were all really nice, and it was interesting to see how they all reacted to the book. Most notably: when someone asked which character we had all found the most relatable, almost all of them said Christopher’s mother. I was the only one who said Christopher himself. I’m still contemplating what conclusions could be drawn from that…
246. Hokkaido Highway Blues, Will Ferguson — Like Ferguson’s Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw, this is another wonderful travel narrative, full of vivid descriptions, fascinating conversations with ordinary people, and lots of humor. After teaching English in Japan for several years, Ferguson decides, almost on a whim, to follow the cherry blossom front—they sweep up the country, coming alive and blooming from the south to the north—hitchhiking the whole way. One of the best things about this book is how willing Ferguson is to immerse himself in Japanese culture—he doesn’t take the bullet train because he wants to see the cities and towns he’s passing from ground level, not through a glass window on an elevated platform; he doesn’t view everything through that highly-irritating Western lens of deciding in advance that everything is going to be so strange and scary and incomprehensible. What the book ultimately ends up being about is how badly he wants to belong, but how, being a husky blond Canadian, he can never really breech the inner circle; he’s this story’s Grendel, forever stuck outside.
I wish the ending, which finds Ferguson arriving at an important revelation, was approached in a slightly more sedate, slightly less rushed manner, but overall this is a fantastic book. Keep an eye out: it’s also published under the title Hitching Rides with Buddha, and under either title, I highly recommend it.
247. The Wordy Shipmates, Sarah Vowell — Vowell’s latest book is not the best example of her work. It’s the closest thing to a straight-out historical narrative that she’s done, and I think it suffers from (as weird as this may sound) being too focused on its topic. This book is about the Puritans, and that’s pretty much all it’s about. Vowell is always an amusing writer, but I had a hard time being as interested in her topic as she was. My sense of involvement always blossomed on the occasions when connections were drawn between the Puritans and some other topic; my favorite section was definitely the one where Vowell compares John Winthrop’s meaning behind his “city on a hill” speech to Reagan’s appropriations of it (which since, of course, could be compared to Sarah Palin’s appropriation of that). But the rest of the time, Vowell is mostly just explaining— albeit deftly—what happened. It made me miss the travelogue and comparative aspects of her previous books.
248. Stories of Your Life and Others, Ted Chiang — Intellectually fascinating if somewhat emotionally cold short stories. Chiang has amazing, unique ideas—and clearly, the intense intelligence to back them up. Almost all of these stories will make you tilt your head and look at the world a little differently. I will say that I never felt a particular connection with any of the characters, or a desperate desire to see how so-and-so’s life turned out. Instead, each tale was like an intricate puzzle that I felt a curious compulsion to continue to put together or pull apart. That’s a different sort of reading experience for me—but ultimately an enjoyable and rewarding one.
249. Kitchen, Banana Yoshimoto — Not as blatantly annoying as N.P., but still not very good. (Why did I read it at all, you legitimately inquire? Because I bought both it and N.P. at the same time, for 25¢ each, and I felt obligated. Yes, even at 25¢. At least it was short.) As in N.P., Yoshimoto writes conversations between characters that bear absolutely no relationship to the way people actually talk:
“Don’t fall asleep,” said Yuichi.
“I’m not. I really love doing this, writing change-of-address cards.”
“Yeah, me too. Moving, writing postcards on trips, I really love it.”
“Yeah, but…” I broached the subject a second time. “These postcards are going to make waves. Won’t you get slapped in the school cafeteria?”
“Is that what you heard today?” He smiled bitterly. It gave me a start in its contrast to his usual smile.
“Well then, isn’t it better to just be honest about it? You’ve done plenty for me already.”
“Cut the crap,” he said. “You think this is the postcard game we’re playing here?”
“What’s ‘the postcard game’?”
“I don’t know…”
We laughed.
And no, this conversation does not make significantly more sense in context.
Oh well, at least I’ve fulfilled my 50¢ obligation now.
250. Pizzeria Kamikaze, Etgar Keret & Asaf Hanuka — In this Israeli graphic novel (which was the inspiration for the movie Wristcutters: A Love Story, which I haven’t seen), the main character kills himself only to discover that suicides all go to a separate afterlife that’s not all that different from the world they left behind. The somewhat slight, though full of nice moments and a never overdone atmosphere of melancholy. It reminded me a bit of Kevin Brockmeier’s The Brief History of the Dead. The really stand-out thing here, though, is the art. Done in blacks and greys and swirling, shining lines of silver, it’s gorgeous and captivating and wondrous. It alone makes this worth picking up.
Total Reviews: 250/280
And one unrelated rec: The Failure of Einstein's Universe (The Big Bang Theory, Penny/Sheldon), which is by far my favorite Yuletide story so far. I don't exactly need more crazy sitcom ships in my life, but this is hilarious and achy and perfect.
What's your favorite, as of 12:36 P.M. PST? *g*
242. Dave Barry Does Japan, Dave Barry — Very funny, if sadly outdated, account of Barry’s three-week trip to Japan. Were we (and by we I mean Americans) really afraid of Japan in 1992 the way we’re now afraid of China? Huh. It’s amazing—and encouraging—how much opinions can change in 16 years.
This book isn’t really a travel guide—it’s a humor book, and has no pretensions of being anything else. Still, I wish Barry had been a little more willing to try Japanese stuff, rather than simply observe and freak out every time someone tried to get him to eat eel. Eel is delicious, yo. And it’s pretty much a staple of any decent sushi joint here in the States. Again, amazing how the world changes. I will take this to be a happy thing.
If you’re having trouble feeling quite so positive, this book will help. Barry may not be an adventurous eater, but he is hilarious, and that’s what really matters here.
243. The Shadow of Reichenbach Falls, John R. King — Okay, I’m no Sherlockian scholar of any merit, but as someone who has, you know, read most of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes stories at least once, I can say with certainty that if you’ve done the same, this book will make you want to tear your hair out over the inaccuracies and errors. King:
1) Has Moriarty turn evil after he kills Jack the Ripper in 1888 and gets possessed by the demon that was possessing the Ripster. Setting that little plot point aside, this still makes no sense in regards to Holmes canon. Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t The Valley of Fear open at the very beginning of 1888? Moriarty is already Holmes’ nemesis then, so how could he still be a perfectly innocent mathematician at this point?
2) Describes a woman as someone who “voted straight-ticket Tory.” Women did not gain suffrage in Britain until 1918, and not universal suffrage until 1928. Basic history! So basic I caught it! Sheesh.
3) Gives Watson, on first reference, the first name “James.” I’m sure this is supposed to be a reference to the fact that Doyle himself at one time screwed this up, and King later switches to the correct appellation of John, but as the name to use, right out of the gate, from Holmes’ own lips—after he’s been reading one of Watson’s accounts in The Strand, no less!—this is just confusing. And stupid.
I’m sure there’s more, but those are the three that really stuck out for me. They made it hard for me to focus on and enjoy the parts of the novel that were, albeit briefly, enjoyable, namely: Sherlock Holmes with amnesia! Sadly, that plotline, which I would love to read many, many better versions of, is lost under a hackneyed, “Boy’s Own” adventure-type plot, in which amnesiac!Holmes falls in with a pair of young love birds, Mary Sue and Marty Stu. King doesn’t even attempt to emulate Doyle’s style, which, while admittedly exposition-heavy, was magnificently atmospheric; King can’t even inject a bit of life into set-pieces like a horrific Victorian mental hospital, a night chase across the Swiss alps, or a climactic battle at the Louvre. From the dialogue, half the time the characters might as well have been traipsing through the Glendale Galleria. And then Holmes himself is completely removed from the climax! Did I pick up a Sherlock Holmes pastiche because I want to read about Marty Stu defeating a demonic skeleton? No—I want to read about freakin’ Sherlock Holmes! WITH AMNESIA.
That this is bad stings even worse because it could have been so frickin’ cool. Dammit.
244. Castle Waiting, Linda Medley — Charming graphic novel about the characters often left out of—or left behind in—fairy tales. Medley’s world is nicely illustrated and filled with unusual characters, including lots of strong, independent-minded women. The end’s kind of abrupt, lacking the resolution I’d like, but that’s apparently because the series has continued since the publication of this book. I hope the continuation becomes available soon.
245. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Mark Haddon — Reread for bookgroup. Like the first time I read this several years ago, I zipped through it in one sitting, and I think I liked it even better this time. I was especially impressed with how, in the first half of novel, Haddon makes Christopher’s way of looking at the world seem really reasonable (well, to me, anyway) and it’s only after he’s taken out of his element and brought into the broader world that it really becomes clear how difficult things are for him.
This was for the first meeting of the bookgroup that I was attending, so I was meeting everyone for the first time. They were all really nice, and it was interesting to see how they all reacted to the book. Most notably: when someone asked which character we had all found the most relatable, almost all of them said Christopher’s mother. I was the only one who said Christopher himself. I’m still contemplating what conclusions could be drawn from that…
246. Hokkaido Highway Blues, Will Ferguson — Like Ferguson’s Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw, this is another wonderful travel narrative, full of vivid descriptions, fascinating conversations with ordinary people, and lots of humor. After teaching English in Japan for several years, Ferguson decides, almost on a whim, to follow the cherry blossom front—they sweep up the country, coming alive and blooming from the south to the north—hitchhiking the whole way. One of the best things about this book is how willing Ferguson is to immerse himself in Japanese culture—he doesn’t take the bullet train because he wants to see the cities and towns he’s passing from ground level, not through a glass window on an elevated platform; he doesn’t view everything through that highly-irritating Western lens of deciding in advance that everything is going to be so strange and scary and incomprehensible. What the book ultimately ends up being about is how badly he wants to belong, but how, being a husky blond Canadian, he can never really breech the inner circle; he’s this story’s Grendel, forever stuck outside.
I wish the ending, which finds Ferguson arriving at an important revelation, was approached in a slightly more sedate, slightly less rushed manner, but overall this is a fantastic book. Keep an eye out: it’s also published under the title Hitching Rides with Buddha, and under either title, I highly recommend it.
247. The Wordy Shipmates, Sarah Vowell — Vowell’s latest book is not the best example of her work. It’s the closest thing to a straight-out historical narrative that she’s done, and I think it suffers from (as weird as this may sound) being too focused on its topic. This book is about the Puritans, and that’s pretty much all it’s about. Vowell is always an amusing writer, but I had a hard time being as interested in her topic as she was. My sense of involvement always blossomed on the occasions when connections were drawn between the Puritans and some other topic; my favorite section was definitely the one where Vowell compares John Winthrop’s meaning behind his “city on a hill” speech to Reagan’s appropriations of it (which since, of course, could be compared to Sarah Palin’s appropriation of that). But the rest of the time, Vowell is mostly just explaining— albeit deftly—what happened. It made me miss the travelogue and comparative aspects of her previous books.
248. Stories of Your Life and Others, Ted Chiang — Intellectually fascinating if somewhat emotionally cold short stories. Chiang has amazing, unique ideas—and clearly, the intense intelligence to back them up. Almost all of these stories will make you tilt your head and look at the world a little differently. I will say that I never felt a particular connection with any of the characters, or a desperate desire to see how so-and-so’s life turned out. Instead, each tale was like an intricate puzzle that I felt a curious compulsion to continue to put together or pull apart. That’s a different sort of reading experience for me—but ultimately an enjoyable and rewarding one.
249. Kitchen, Banana Yoshimoto — Not as blatantly annoying as N.P., but still not very good. (Why did I read it at all, you legitimately inquire? Because I bought both it and N.P. at the same time, for 25¢ each, and I felt obligated. Yes, even at 25¢. At least it was short.) As in N.P., Yoshimoto writes conversations between characters that bear absolutely no relationship to the way people actually talk:
“Don’t fall asleep,” said Yuichi.
“I’m not. I really love doing this, writing change-of-address cards.”
“Yeah, me too. Moving, writing postcards on trips, I really love it.”
“Yeah, but…” I broached the subject a second time. “These postcards are going to make waves. Won’t you get slapped in the school cafeteria?”
“Is that what you heard today?” He smiled bitterly. It gave me a start in its contrast to his usual smile.
“Well then, isn’t it better to just be honest about it? You’ve done plenty for me already.”
“Cut the crap,” he said. “You think this is the postcard game we’re playing here?”
“What’s ‘the postcard game’?”
“I don’t know…”
We laughed.
And no, this conversation does not make significantly more sense in context.
Oh well, at least I’ve fulfilled my 50¢ obligation now.
250. Pizzeria Kamikaze, Etgar Keret & Asaf Hanuka — In this Israeli graphic novel (which was the inspiration for the movie Wristcutters: A Love Story, which I haven’t seen), the main character kills himself only to discover that suicides all go to a separate afterlife that’s not all that different from the world they left behind. The somewhat slight, though full of nice moments and a never overdone atmosphere of melancholy. It reminded me a bit of Kevin Brockmeier’s The Brief History of the Dead. The really stand-out thing here, though, is the art. Done in blacks and greys and swirling, shining lines of silver, it’s gorgeous and captivating and wondrous. It alone makes this worth picking up.
Total Reviews: 250/280
And one unrelated rec: The Failure of Einstein's Universe (The Big Bang Theory, Penny/Sheldon), which is by far my favorite Yuletide story so far. I don't exactly need more crazy sitcom ships in my life, but this is hilarious and achy and perfect.
What's your favorite, as of 12:36 P.M. PST? *g*
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I am sensing some anger from you here. *is clearly psychic*
(My favourite Yuletide fic so far is probably Shalbatana, which is a KSR Mars Trilogy fic, with a bonus special guest of AWESOME, but I have half-a-dozen others I could have picked - there's not a single stand-out for me right now!)
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You should really read the one I mentioned. Even if you don't know the characters, I think you will like it. (You can always mentally have Rodney stand-in for Sheldon, although Sheldon frankly makes Rodney seem AMAZINGLY well-adjusted.)
Has your library gifted you with Hard-boiled Wonderland yet?
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That fic probably stands alone anyway, though - it's set very early in the series, and you can probably get the hang of it from the story... And I shall read your rec even though I know nothing about the canon! :)
Sadly my library is being dilatory. It's still down as "reserved", so it's not even on its way...
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Seriously, that story is so good! I've already read it 2 1/2 times! And you know I almost never reread fic.
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You can cheat on me with Mr Murukami if you like, so long as you discuss it with me later? I might be another couple of months before the book comes in, depending on what's going on with it...
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Anyway, I hope it finds its way to you speedily!
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*ahem*
I always find it weird reading old travelogues - the Victorian era ones are less weird because you expect them to be from a very different point of view, but reading a lovely modern book with bright modern pictures all about Micheal Palin going to Russia just before the fall of Soviet Communism is SO WEIRD.
I loved 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time' (I first read it just for the title but it was so worth it) and am slightly boggled that people found his mum the most relatable. I thought the book did a good job showing, despite Christopher's difficulty understanding, how tough things were for his mum and dad, but seriously? Maybe they had a slightly different idea of what was meant by 'relatable'? Hmm.
(Man, I love your book review posts. Just in case you hadn't already guessed. :) )
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Sometimes I like reading old travel guides just because it's cool to see how old and weird they are. I'm actually trying to acquire INFORMATION about Japan, though, so I probably need to pick up something more recent. ;-)
One of the best things about Curious Incident, I think, is that Haddon makes everyone sympathetic (or at least not un-); that's not the same as relatable, though. Not to be a snob, but remember that section of Christopher's mother's letters? I frankly could never choose as my most relatable character someone whose spelling and grammar were that bad. *is snob anyway, oops*
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or, y'know, japanguide is pretty useful, if you're looking for touristy stuff.
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I haven't pulled my copy of Dave Barry Does Japan off the shelf in years, but I remember when everyone (Michael Crichton, William Gibson) was assuming that Japan would be running the world for the foreseeable future.
Funny, I'm currently reading Wordy Shipmates and literally reached the "city on a hill" passage just last night.
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But then you recommended it and it's the right book and I cannot tell you how excited I am. I've been trying to recommend this book to friends and neighbors for YEARS and couldn't for lack of a title and an author. So thank you.
(Tell me, does he have a passage in there about confusing the word for 'people' with the word for 'carrots'? I'm 99% positive it's the right book, but that'll make it 100%.)
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I'm so glad I could help you; that itchy "what was that book?" feeling is the worst. And this book is too good to forget forever.
I will definitely try to think of some Japan questions for you later. (Right now I am SO BEAT, omg.)
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Good thing for Amazon, definitely.
And thanks! I just love the icon. Most of the people on livejournal I know make their own, so it's a huge social faux pas to copy one without asking. I just wanted to make sure.