Lisa Genova's Still Alice was Drink Wine and Gossip's November choice. I haven't been as diligent as usual with my book-club books, mainly because I've been too selfishly absorbed in my person bookshelf books; i.e. Game of Thrones (I've since started Clash of Kings). So I guiltily picked it up, but was unwitting immediately sucked in.
Still Alice is not a book I would have chosen myself. It's quite the sad story, about a highly educated and respected published Harvard Psychology professor who is diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's Disease. If nothing else, this book provides a wonderful window into the world of Alzheimer's; there are so many facets to the disease that I never knew or even thought about, like forgetting how to read, speak, play games, etc. As a whole, those details made it quite the sad story and concept, but in general I felt the book had a relatively upbeat quality to it.
Things start out simple and innocent enough - Alice can't find the word she's thinking of during a speech, relatively normal behavior we all exhibit more times than we'd care for. She did - and continued to do so in the beginning - what we all do: chalk it up to exhaustion, stress, busy schedules, and just life in general. But then a particularly scary aspect of the disease reared it's ugly head and Alice was forced to face the ugly truth.
Being a smart and highly educated woman, Alice knew something was wrong that required doctor intervention. Once she is diagnosed, her world becomes centered around the disease, how she can stay "normal," for as long as possible, how she can test herself and her wits, how she could possibly beat it. At her [dick of a] husband's urging, Alice goes on medication and agrees to participate in a medical trial, but since the chapters are written in month increments, the disease manages to continue on it's rapid downward spiral, with Alice to do nothing but go along for the ride.
What is heartwarming, though, is that she doesn't go on the ride alone. She fears alienation and isolation in her profession - which is inevitable - but finds incredible understanding, support, and love. From her children she always felt a little "off" from, they are brought closer in a more loving and compassionate way. As a woman, however, I was perturbed by the husband and his reaction to most everything Alice went through. He made me appreciate my own husband, especially when considering that one of us might go through this one day, and that my husband will do everything the exact opposite of John.
It was also optimistic to follow along with Alice on her journey and witness her keep herself together. I don't know if I could be as strong and not get scared at the "stranger [who] walked me home," that was actually my husband. Maybe that's part of it, forgetting to be scared?
Lisa Genova's story was mind-boggling. Literally. I wouldn't classify it as a book that is a must-read before the world ends in a couple of weeks, but if you find yourself at a loss of what to read and want something interesting, thought-provoking, and that moves quickly, Still Alice is worth a serious consider. As the crude review reads on the back cover, "a book you won't forget."
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Game of Thrones
*mouth hangs agape* I'll begin by saying that I have no idea where to begin.
As I've mentioned before, I'm late to the party in terms of pop culture phenomenon, so, naturally, I've only vaguely heard of some show called Game of Thrones on HBO, a channel I'm not even close to getting. At least when I was a kid, it sort of, fuzzily came through on one of the triple digit channels. I was also vaguely aware that the show had originated from a book, as most good movies and television shows do, this one by George R.R. Martin, specifically.
Earlier this year, my friend began posting on her Facebook how amazing the books were and how closely they followed them in creating the TV show. As she is a virtual Drink Wine and Gossip book club member, my interest was instantly piqued. The only difference was that she had seen the show and I had not, so I was going in completely unawares.
Like I said, I don't even know where to begin. I couldn't begin to tell you character or city names, or story lines that I enjoyed, that repulsed me - ok, Dany eating the stallions heart is up there - that stuck with me, or even how I really felt about it all. That's the thing with Game of Thrones; it's as if the book must be felt as opposed to read and processed. And I'll be honest - I'm totally addicted.
For one, the chapters aren't numbered, but rather labeled with a different character name, thus either consciously or subconsciously causing the reader to become fully absorbed rather than keep count. Which - let's be honest - is a feat in and of itself. Reading this book feels second to reading the Bible, which I only got to the apple part. There again, the feeling is the most important part.
Second, since each chapter is labeled with a different character's name, we're transported to a different world and unfolding drama, with different players, different follies, but all immensely interesting and fascinated. To say that Martin is the true epitome of fantasy is a great understatement. I often find myself marveling at the sheer level of his imagination. And my friend guessed he must have maps hung up everywhere in order to keep track of where everyone lives, comes, goes, was born, dies, rules, makes offspring, etc.
The gore is not of personal taste but I'm able to compartmentalize it that it goes with the times, and that it doesn't actual exist in the first place, as there really aren't wild wood people who hunt mortals and turn them mad. Ok, maybe in the South.
All I can say is that there are many fantastically good reasons why this book - and the others in the series that follow it - are on NPR's must-read list, as well as a few others, I'm sure. It, did, after all give me Book Hand (hand-cramp from holding books). I can't explain it. You just have to pick it up and figure it out for yourself.
As I've mentioned before, I'm late to the party in terms of pop culture phenomenon, so, naturally, I've only vaguely heard of some show called Game of Thrones on HBO, a channel I'm not even close to getting. At least when I was a kid, it sort of, fuzzily came through on one of the triple digit channels. I was also vaguely aware that the show had originated from a book, as most good movies and television shows do, this one by George R.R. Martin, specifically.
Earlier this year, my friend began posting on her Facebook how amazing the books were and how closely they followed them in creating the TV show. As she is a virtual Drink Wine and Gossip book club member, my interest was instantly piqued. The only difference was that she had seen the show and I had not, so I was going in completely unawares.
Like I said, I don't even know where to begin. I couldn't begin to tell you character or city names, or story lines that I enjoyed, that repulsed me - ok, Dany eating the stallions heart is up there - that stuck with me, or even how I really felt about it all. That's the thing with Game of Thrones; it's as if the book must be felt as opposed to read and processed. And I'll be honest - I'm totally addicted.
For one, the chapters aren't numbered, but rather labeled with a different character name, thus either consciously or subconsciously causing the reader to become fully absorbed rather than keep count. Which - let's be honest - is a feat in and of itself. Reading this book feels second to reading the Bible, which I only got to the apple part. There again, the feeling is the most important part.
Second, since each chapter is labeled with a different character's name, we're transported to a different world and unfolding drama, with different players, different follies, but all immensely interesting and fascinated. To say that Martin is the true epitome of fantasy is a great understatement. I often find myself marveling at the sheer level of his imagination. And my friend guessed he must have maps hung up everywhere in order to keep track of where everyone lives, comes, goes, was born, dies, rules, makes offspring, etc.
The gore is not of personal taste but I'm able to compartmentalize it that it goes with the times, and that it doesn't actual exist in the first place, as there really aren't wild wood people who hunt mortals and turn them mad. Ok, maybe in the South.
All I can say is that there are many fantastically good reasons why this book - and the others in the series that follow it - are on NPR's must-read list, as well as a few others, I'm sure. It, did, after all give me Book Hand (hand-cramp from holding books). I can't explain it. You just have to pick it up and figure it out for yourself.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Driven
After plowing through Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter with still some weeks of October left, I decided to keep with my spooky-genre and read W.G. Griffiths' Driven.
This book has been collecting dust on my shelf for almost a decade, surviving multiple cross-state moves and a dog who likes to eat books. So I brought it down, dusted it off, read the back, and started on the Driven journey, which was - as it happened - full of cheese.
Griffiths' novel reminded me a lot of a Dan Brown or James Patterson; short sentences, equally short chapters, and a great deal of pontificating. The main difference is that Griffiths' is no match for those seasoned authors, experts at weaving intrigue with mystery, drama, romance, and just enough horror to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. But what I appreciated most about Driven is that the crux of the story wasn't to exploit the worst traits of the human population, as most of the horror genre seems geared towards. The culprit - spoiler alert that's easily accessible from reading the back cover - is a supernatural force, stronger than any human, that's been around since the beginning of the beginning.
Gavin Pierce is a police detective, taking the weekend off at pseudo Sea World with his grandfather, when a seemingly drunk driver causes a horrific accident that kills Gavin's grandfather and a host of others, his only calling cards being a lobster claw, too many empty beer cans to count, a dead passenger, and the crumpled mess that was the passenger's car. The most eerie and unexpected result, however, is that the driver manages to escape the carnage with barely a scrape or bruise. Clearly Pierce is dealing with something he never had to before.
Pierce quickly bands together a hodgepodge a civilian superheros to track, find, and apprehend the monster, including fellow detectives, a hypnotist, one lone survivor, a victim's sister-in-law, and a Reverend with a wooden chest he refuses to leave behind or let open.
The story is interesting, keeps you hooked, and winds you down a path of various unexpected, and sometimes obscure, pieces to the puzzle. There is, however, something lacking in the writing that reminds you of the first adjective-laden story you produced as a plucky 6th grader. The emotions are expressed in such a way that the reader almost feels forced to believe this is actually how the character is feeling.
The book has the appropriate amount of surprising twists, and the ending is a true mystery unless you're well-versed in the art of deliverance. It didn't leave me reeling, though; didn't leave me wanting more and I could give the book to charity and not wonder what happened to it days, months, or years from now. It didn't stick with me and there's a part of me that is disappointed I didn't spend my time reading something more Halloween-ish. Then again, any book I add to my done-reading list is a positive.
This book has been collecting dust on my shelf for almost a decade, surviving multiple cross-state moves and a dog who likes to eat books. So I brought it down, dusted it off, read the back, and started on the Driven journey, which was - as it happened - full of cheese.
Griffiths' novel reminded me a lot of a Dan Brown or James Patterson; short sentences, equally short chapters, and a great deal of pontificating. The main difference is that Griffiths' is no match for those seasoned authors, experts at weaving intrigue with mystery, drama, romance, and just enough horror to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. But what I appreciated most about Driven is that the crux of the story wasn't to exploit the worst traits of the human population, as most of the horror genre seems geared towards. The culprit - spoiler alert that's easily accessible from reading the back cover - is a supernatural force, stronger than any human, that's been around since the beginning of the beginning.
Gavin Pierce is a police detective, taking the weekend off at pseudo Sea World with his grandfather, when a seemingly drunk driver causes a horrific accident that kills Gavin's grandfather and a host of others, his only calling cards being a lobster claw, too many empty beer cans to count, a dead passenger, and the crumpled mess that was the passenger's car. The most eerie and unexpected result, however, is that the driver manages to escape the carnage with barely a scrape or bruise. Clearly Pierce is dealing with something he never had to before.
Pierce quickly bands together a hodgepodge a civilian superheros to track, find, and apprehend the monster, including fellow detectives, a hypnotist, one lone survivor, a victim's sister-in-law, and a Reverend with a wooden chest he refuses to leave behind or let open.
The story is interesting, keeps you hooked, and winds you down a path of various unexpected, and sometimes obscure, pieces to the puzzle. There is, however, something lacking in the writing that reminds you of the first adjective-laden story you produced as a plucky 6th grader. The emotions are expressed in such a way that the reader almost feels forced to believe this is actually how the character is feeling.
The book has the appropriate amount of surprising twists, and the ending is a true mystery unless you're well-versed in the art of deliverance. It didn't leave me reeling, though; didn't leave me wanting more and I could give the book to charity and not wonder what happened to it days, months, or years from now. It didn't stick with me and there's a part of me that is disappointed I didn't spend my time reading something more Halloween-ish. Then again, any book I add to my done-reading list is a positive.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter
Another great husband-find, Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter, arrived to me via birthday wrapping and a husband unwilling to wait 12 hours for me to open one of his presents. Good thing, too since I started the book early the next morning and was subsequently hooked (and totally one of those naive enough to believe some of it might be real).
I'm pretty wet behind the ears when it comes to Lincoln's history, so I can only assume there is much more to his story then what lies within these 336 pages. But what a reader will find is interesting, enthralling, captivating, heart-stopping, heart-wrenching, suspenseful, and definitely worth the time and effort.
The author, Seth Grahame-Smith, creates a world in which we already know of Lincoln's accomplishments, but not the extent to which they were brought to fruition; his secrets, his secret battles, his secret allies, and the feelings, thoughts, and memories he kept locked within his heart. The author claims to have found Lincoln's journal, one in which he details his vampire expeditions, and other things only a journal could know.
The book is written in such a way as to convey biography, complete with one-can-only-assume-accurate footnotes. Lincoln's life begins in hardship, his mother taken too soon with only the cold shoulder of his father for comfort. When he realizes the real perpetrators of his mother's death, he vows to rid America of vampires, and thus paves the way for future Buffy the Vampire Slayers.
Grahame-Smith expertly weaves a tale of fantasy and politics, taking careful note that the two are often intertwined. He recites the life of Lincoln with fun - and plausible, if you believe in that sort of thing - ways to fill the gaps.
A great October read, I will be passing along to my friends for an entertaining fright, and recommending to anyone who happens by this page.
I'm pretty wet behind the ears when it comes to Lincoln's history, so I can only assume there is much more to his story then what lies within these 336 pages. But what a reader will find is interesting, enthralling, captivating, heart-stopping, heart-wrenching, suspenseful, and definitely worth the time and effort.
The author, Seth Grahame-Smith, creates a world in which we already know of Lincoln's accomplishments, but not the extent to which they were brought to fruition; his secrets, his secret battles, his secret allies, and the feelings, thoughts, and memories he kept locked within his heart. The author claims to have found Lincoln's journal, one in which he details his vampire expeditions, and other things only a journal could know.
The book is written in such a way as to convey biography, complete with one-can-only-assume-accurate footnotes. Lincoln's life begins in hardship, his mother taken too soon with only the cold shoulder of his father for comfort. When he realizes the real perpetrators of his mother's death, he vows to rid America of vampires, and thus paves the way for future Buffy the Vampire Slayers.
Grahame-Smith expertly weaves a tale of fantasy and politics, taking careful note that the two are often intertwined. He recites the life of Lincoln with fun - and plausible, if you believe in that sort of thing - ways to fill the gaps.
A great October read, I will be passing along to my friends for an entertaining fright, and recommending to anyone who happens by this page.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
The Book of Mormon Girl
Do you ever get into these modes where all you eat is Greek yogurt; or Ramen noodles; or popcorn? Then don't want to look at it for awhile? Yeah, I'm that way with books. Ok, and food too.
After finishing Thirteen Reasons Why, I just didn't feel a draw to any particular book. I tried to pick up a few, including The Friday Night Knitting Club, and Fifty Shades Darker, but it just wasn't happenin'. Then one night while watching The Colbert Report, his guest was Joanna Brooks, author of The Book of Mormon Girl, and suddenly my book-interest was revived. She was so down-to-earth and enigmatic (a Liberal Mormon!), it almost made me want to become a Mormon. But I thought it best to read the book first.
The next day, I went out and picked it up at my local bookseller (sorry, peeps, it's a new release, so by "local bookseller" I mean Barnes and Noble) and was hooked that night, which wasn't hard to do since there are barely 200 pages.
The limited number of pages also meant, however, that there was a certain meat lacking to the story. Brooks gave time and effort to a few anecdotes, but the majority of the book felt more girl-looking-in than girl-navigating-life-and-faith. By the end, I felt the lack of pages represented about 3/4 of the book, or - more appropriate - 3/4 of the story.
Brooks begins her navigation through life with the most open of hearts towards the faith that was thrust upon her. Not that she has any remorse; to this day she continues to be a practicing Mormon. She observes her mother tirelessly research the family lineage in order to properly baptize them all, and to forever record them among the family history. She followers her parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and bonus aunts and uncles through the blind faith that is faith, knowing nothing more than that she wants to belong.
But as Brooks gets older and experiences the trial and tribulations of life that are not separated by faith, she often finds the two conflicting, with her confusion, doubt, anxiety, and multitude of unanswered and possibly unanswerable questions the only outcome.
If nothing else, Brooks provides us all with an unwavering loyalty towards herself. Whether it be her level of dedication to presenting her best self to the world (taking a moment to bow down to Marie Osmond and the extents to which she took to primp), or her underlying desire to ensure her own happiness.
Aside from her level of self-acceptance, we have much to learn from Ms. Brooks. She offers a very interesting perspective of the world, and offers points of view one wouldn't normally consider. Like I said, the only disappointing factor was that the book wasn't longer. If that's not a complaint wrapped in a compliment, I don't know what is.
(Update: My friend and book club amiga, Mer, read the book and enjoyed it as well. It also - naturally - sparked some very interesting conversation.)
After finishing Thirteen Reasons Why, I just didn't feel a draw to any particular book. I tried to pick up a few, including The Friday Night Knitting Club, and Fifty Shades Darker, but it just wasn't happenin'. Then one night while watching The Colbert Report, his guest was Joanna Brooks, author of The Book of Mormon Girl, and suddenly my book-interest was revived. She was so down-to-earth and enigmatic (a Liberal Mormon!), it almost made me want to become a Mormon. But I thought it best to read the book first.
The next day, I went out and picked it up at my local bookseller (sorry, peeps, it's a new release, so by "local bookseller" I mean Barnes and Noble) and was hooked that night, which wasn't hard to do since there are barely 200 pages.
The limited number of pages also meant, however, that there was a certain meat lacking to the story. Brooks gave time and effort to a few anecdotes, but the majority of the book felt more girl-looking-in than girl-navigating-life-and-faith. By the end, I felt the lack of pages represented about 3/4 of the book, or - more appropriate - 3/4 of the story.
Brooks begins her navigation through life with the most open of hearts towards the faith that was thrust upon her. Not that she has any remorse; to this day she continues to be a practicing Mormon. She observes her mother tirelessly research the family lineage in order to properly baptize them all, and to forever record them among the family history. She followers her parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and bonus aunts and uncles through the blind faith that is faith, knowing nothing more than that she wants to belong.
But as Brooks gets older and experiences the trial and tribulations of life that are not separated by faith, she often finds the two conflicting, with her confusion, doubt, anxiety, and multitude of unanswered and possibly unanswerable questions the only outcome.
If nothing else, Brooks provides us all with an unwavering loyalty towards herself. Whether it be her level of dedication to presenting her best self to the world (taking a moment to bow down to Marie Osmond and the extents to which she took to primp), or her underlying desire to ensure her own happiness.
Aside from her level of self-acceptance, we have much to learn from Ms. Brooks. She offers a very interesting perspective of the world, and offers points of view one wouldn't normally consider. Like I said, the only disappointing factor was that the book wasn't longer. If that's not a complaint wrapped in a compliment, I don't know what is.
(Update: My friend and book club amiga, Mer, read the book and enjoyed it as well. It also - naturally - sparked some very interesting conversation.)
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Thirteen Reasons Why
Every summer, our book club takes a break from meetings since it's too hard to schedule them with sporting events and games, vacations, and everything else that makes summer busy. But we do choose a page-y novel to read as our summer book, to be discussed upon meeting again in September. This summer, Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher was the pick and it took me barely a week to finish. It was a relatively simple read, categorized as Young Adult, but offered a very clear message with events that will mature even those who still can't say the word vagina without snickering.
Clay Jensen, a high-schooler, comes home one day to a package waiting on his doorstep. It doesn't have a return address, but who isn't excited to receive a package? He is quickly disappointed to learn the shoe-sized box is full of cassette tapes made by the late Hannah Baker, a fellow student who committed suicide just short of Clay receiving the tapes. There are 13 recordings, sides A and B, and each tell a story relating a classmate to a reason why she killed herself; the 13 reasons/people why.
As a premise, the story is a little hard to swallow. Personally, I find it difficult to accept blame for something somebody did when I wasn't aware I was doing anything; to not only selfishly commit suicide, but then unload the blame on my doorstep for me to live with the rest of my life when we could have worked it out in person and gotten over it. Clay vacillated between hurt, anger, and sadness that he'd never get to know her better, but was ultimately grateful he understood her better, and discovered more about his classmates.
The deal is this: the 13 people on the tapes must keep the chain going, listen to all 13 stories, and pass them along to the person whose story is told after theirs. If they break the chain, a second set of tapes "will get out." The threat seems a bit of over-kill, but there actually are some issues that could get certain people in some legal hot water.
Without a doubt, the book is a page-turner (unless you're like me and take it along on Girls' Weekend), with every chapter a new story on a side of a cassette tape. Sometimes you think the worst, and sometimes you hope for the best, and there are some parts I found downright confusing or a bit of a stretch. In my personal opinion, each scenario - taken separately - doesn't, in my mind, equal ending one's life. That is such a final, ultimate decision that strips away so many things from so many people. But the overall moral of the story is that you never really know what someone is going through, and that a small act of kindness isn't too many steps ahead of being selfish or inconsiderate. Regardless of the meat of the story, or real lack-thereof, the book can teach us all something about ourselves and how we choose to interact with people, especially those we don't really know.
Clay Jensen, a high-schooler, comes home one day to a package waiting on his doorstep. It doesn't have a return address, but who isn't excited to receive a package? He is quickly disappointed to learn the shoe-sized box is full of cassette tapes made by the late Hannah Baker, a fellow student who committed suicide just short of Clay receiving the tapes. There are 13 recordings, sides A and B, and each tell a story relating a classmate to a reason why she killed herself; the 13 reasons/people why.
As a premise, the story is a little hard to swallow. Personally, I find it difficult to accept blame for something somebody did when I wasn't aware I was doing anything; to not only selfishly commit suicide, but then unload the blame on my doorstep for me to live with the rest of my life when we could have worked it out in person and gotten over it. Clay vacillated between hurt, anger, and sadness that he'd never get to know her better, but was ultimately grateful he understood her better, and discovered more about his classmates.
The deal is this: the 13 people on the tapes must keep the chain going, listen to all 13 stories, and pass them along to the person whose story is told after theirs. If they break the chain, a second set of tapes "will get out." The threat seems a bit of over-kill, but there actually are some issues that could get certain people in some legal hot water.
Without a doubt, the book is a page-turner (unless you're like me and take it along on Girls' Weekend), with every chapter a new story on a side of a cassette tape. Sometimes you think the worst, and sometimes you hope for the best, and there are some parts I found downright confusing or a bit of a stretch. In my personal opinion, each scenario - taken separately - doesn't, in my mind, equal ending one's life. That is such a final, ultimate decision that strips away so many things from so many people. But the overall moral of the story is that you never really know what someone is going through, and that a small act of kindness isn't too many steps ahead of being selfish or inconsiderate. Regardless of the meat of the story, or real lack-thereof, the book can teach us all something about ourselves and how we choose to interact with people, especially those we don't really know.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
The Lake of Dead Languages
It only took me two years, containing a pregnancy and that child almost reaching the age of 2, for me to finally finish this book. And it's taken me almost as long to write this review. Well, if we're being honest, it took that amount of time, and about 130 pages, for me to get hooked. Once that happened, finishing it proved to be no problem. Although, what stood in my way when I previously tried to read Carol Goodman's The Lake of Dead Languages also proved to be an issue this time around. The one difference: I wasn't pregnant this time, which I firmly believe messes with your concentration and mental energy, and even eyesight.
As a previous card-carrying member of the OCD club (having children will rid you of that to a certain extent), I could never leave a book unfinished. And no matter how bad the story might have been, there was always a small part of me that wanted to know how it ended, no matter how lame. Like that joke your coworker tells you that you don't think is as funny as she does; it's still interesting to a certain degree.
This lukewarm sentiment is exactly how I felt about The Lake of Dead Languages. Based in a Latin class at a boarding school for girls in the Adirondacks, Jane Hudson - an "old girl," - finds her past has come back to haunt her, but for what reason she isn't able to figure out. Unless the campfire stories they tell about the lake are true.....
Jane knows for certain one way or the other, and knows the lake was merely a pawn - and weapon - in the dramas that unfold in the book's present day, as well as 20 years prior, when Jane was a Latin student herself. While the consequences were intriguing - suicides, drownings, murders - the causes weren't so much and, I felt, a bit of a reach. If anything, the book proved girls will be horrendous to each other for no obvious reason, 20 years ago, 100 years ago, 1000 years ago, and present day. The Lake of Dead Languages was nothing more than bullying to the extreme, which really only left me disappointed.
But it's easy to get sucked into the idea that something supernatural is taking place; after reading Twilight and Harry Potter, anything is just about acceptable. I guess I just have low tolerance for stories that remind me all to well of how awful human kind can be.
I've definitely read better stories, and I've definitely read worse, so Goodman's novel wasn't a complete waste of time; it definitely served it's purpose while driving through Wyoming. *snnnnoooorrreee*
There isn't much to say about the characters, at least that I feel is worth mentioning. Mostly, they're like everyone else, just with very unfortunate accidents and/or results. The Lake of Dead Languages is a classic tale of wanting to fit in, have friends, and feel a part of something. The story could have used some tweaking, and didn't need nearly the 400 pages to tell it, but, like I said, not a complete waste of time. Set during the fall and winter, I think I mostly enjoyed it because it provided some mental relief from the intense summer heat. So, thanks!
As a previous card-carrying member of the OCD club (having children will rid you of that to a certain extent), I could never leave a book unfinished. And no matter how bad the story might have been, there was always a small part of me that wanted to know how it ended, no matter how lame. Like that joke your coworker tells you that you don't think is as funny as she does; it's still interesting to a certain degree.
This lukewarm sentiment is exactly how I felt about The Lake of Dead Languages. Based in a Latin class at a boarding school for girls in the Adirondacks, Jane Hudson - an "old girl," - finds her past has come back to haunt her, but for what reason she isn't able to figure out. Unless the campfire stories they tell about the lake are true.....
Jane knows for certain one way or the other, and knows the lake was merely a pawn - and weapon - in the dramas that unfold in the book's present day, as well as 20 years prior, when Jane was a Latin student herself. While the consequences were intriguing - suicides, drownings, murders - the causes weren't so much and, I felt, a bit of a reach. If anything, the book proved girls will be horrendous to each other for no obvious reason, 20 years ago, 100 years ago, 1000 years ago, and present day. The Lake of Dead Languages was nothing more than bullying to the extreme, which really only left me disappointed.
But it's easy to get sucked into the idea that something supernatural is taking place; after reading Twilight and Harry Potter, anything is just about acceptable. I guess I just have low tolerance for stories that remind me all to well of how awful human kind can be.
I've definitely read better stories, and I've definitely read worse, so Goodman's novel wasn't a complete waste of time; it definitely served it's purpose while driving through Wyoming. *snnnnoooorrreee*
There isn't much to say about the characters, at least that I feel is worth mentioning. Mostly, they're like everyone else, just with very unfortunate accidents and/or results. The Lake of Dead Languages is a classic tale of wanting to fit in, have friends, and feel a part of something. The story could have used some tweaking, and didn't need nearly the 400 pages to tell it, but, like I said, not a complete waste of time. Set during the fall and winter, I think I mostly enjoyed it because it provided some mental relief from the intense summer heat. So, thanks!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
The House of Velvet and Glass
My wonderful husband brought Katherine Howe's The House of Velvet and Glass home for me for Mother's Day, seeing the picture of the Titanic on the front and knowing I'm a complete sucker for the fated ship and anything having to do with it (thank you Leo and Kate). While this book entertained me for a good hour total, I found it lacking in several ways, and oftentimes very confusing.
To start, the synopsis reads: "......But when her brother is mysteriously kicked out of Harvard under mysterious circumstances, and falls under the sway of a strange young woman, Sibyl turns for help to psychology professor Benton Derby, despite the unspoken tensions of their shared past. As Benton and Sibyl work together to solve a harrowing mystery, their long-simmering spark flares to life, and they realize that there may be something even more magical between them than a medium's scrying glass......The House of Velvet and Glass weaves together meticulous period detail, intoxicating romance, and a final shocking twist that will leave readers breathless."
I applaud Howe's attempt at suspense and drama but, for me, it just didn't quite hit the mark; and - to start - I was confused as to why her first novel was a New York Times Bestseller, which is of a similar genre. Quite honestly, though, I haven't read it, and, even more honestly, based on this book, I won't be rushing out to read any of her others. Where Howe comes off as dramatic and cliff-hanger-y is actually more confusing; and the weird Interludes between certain chapters is just distracting. And I don't know if it was that or just the story in general that made it seemed like it dragged on forever; never in my reading career have I actually taken more than 2 days to read the last 3 pages of a book. Moreover, this was the first book I gave up on the epilogue halfway though, and didn't even attempt the afterward.
Howe's main character, Sibyl, escapes the tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic by visiting a fortune teller, complete with all the tricks of the trade. But although that was all smoke and mirrors, Sibyl learns her talent for seeing is not, and is in fact, something that has touched her family before, besides her mother being hooked on this particular activity. As an homage, I suppose, Sibyl continued and discovered its apparent usefulness.
What it amounted to for the reader, however, was a lot of blind corners that, instead of leaving the reader breathless, leaved them scratching their heads. And with so many different characters named "Lannie" it was easy to get discombobulated.
I just have to interject, having a crucial character head off to war after a night of passion is something written by male romance writers. Shame on you, Katherine! My heart actually hurt at that moment. I realize it was her attempt at drama and heart-wrenching romance, but it came off as just cruel. Sorry for any spoiling, there.
By the time I buckled down and finished the book - something that eventually just started to feel like a monkey on my back - PUN! - I still hadn't detected the main selling points of the inside-flap synopsis. Why was Harlan kicked out of Harvard? The characters figured it out based on polite head-nods and over-simplified sentences, but, I, the reader, was still left in the dark. And what was really up with the "strange young woman?" Was it all really just because she was an actress? Or was that really just her way of saying she was a streetwalker, as all of the other characters suspected?
Most plaguing, what was the "harrowing mystery"? I was concerned I hadn't figured it out 200 pages in, but - and I don't know if I've mentioned this before - I can be a bit slow at times...most times.....
For most of the book, Sibyl kept her talents to herself, and then the process of revealing them to others was very long and drawn out, and, apparently, required an eventual trip to rehab. I hope the characters knew what mystery they were selected to solve because I sure couldn't wrap my head around it.
While fun, the historical accuracy wasn't anything more than you could pull off from an hour from hanging out on google. And the romance wasn't anything spectacular, but more reminiscent of demure high school days when you silently brooded for your heart's desire instead of pursuing it.
In the end, the book was worth it to me because my husband had thought enough to get it for me. Beyond that, the author didn't keep me hooked, and I spent more time questioning the characters than being captivated by them. And it left me with one burning question still hanging in the air: what was the shocking twist that was to leave me breathless??
If you ask me, I did a lot of sighing throughout this book.
To start, the synopsis reads: "......But when her brother is mysteriously kicked out of Harvard under mysterious circumstances, and falls under the sway of a strange young woman, Sibyl turns for help to psychology professor Benton Derby, despite the unspoken tensions of their shared past. As Benton and Sibyl work together to solve a harrowing mystery, their long-simmering spark flares to life, and they realize that there may be something even more magical between them than a medium's scrying glass......The House of Velvet and Glass weaves together meticulous period detail, intoxicating romance, and a final shocking twist that will leave readers breathless."
I applaud Howe's attempt at suspense and drama but, for me, it just didn't quite hit the mark; and - to start - I was confused as to why her first novel was a New York Times Bestseller, which is of a similar genre. Quite honestly, though, I haven't read it, and, even more honestly, based on this book, I won't be rushing out to read any of her others. Where Howe comes off as dramatic and cliff-hanger-y is actually more confusing; and the weird Interludes between certain chapters is just distracting. And I don't know if it was that or just the story in general that made it seemed like it dragged on forever; never in my reading career have I actually taken more than 2 days to read the last 3 pages of a book. Moreover, this was the first book I gave up on the epilogue halfway though, and didn't even attempt the afterward.
Howe's main character, Sibyl, escapes the tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic by visiting a fortune teller, complete with all the tricks of the trade. But although that was all smoke and mirrors, Sibyl learns her talent for seeing is not, and is in fact, something that has touched her family before, besides her mother being hooked on this particular activity. As an homage, I suppose, Sibyl continued and discovered its apparent usefulness.
What it amounted to for the reader, however, was a lot of blind corners that, instead of leaving the reader breathless, leaved them scratching their heads. And with so many different characters named "Lannie" it was easy to get discombobulated.
I just have to interject, having a crucial character head off to war after a night of passion is something written by male romance writers. Shame on you, Katherine! My heart actually hurt at that moment. I realize it was her attempt at drama and heart-wrenching romance, but it came off as just cruel. Sorry for any spoiling, there.
By the time I buckled down and finished the book - something that eventually just started to feel like a monkey on my back - PUN! - I still hadn't detected the main selling points of the inside-flap synopsis. Why was Harlan kicked out of Harvard? The characters figured it out based on polite head-nods and over-simplified sentences, but, I, the reader, was still left in the dark. And what was really up with the "strange young woman?" Was it all really just because she was an actress? Or was that really just her way of saying she was a streetwalker, as all of the other characters suspected?
Most plaguing, what was the "harrowing mystery"? I was concerned I hadn't figured it out 200 pages in, but - and I don't know if I've mentioned this before - I can be a bit slow at times...most times.....
For most of the book, Sibyl kept her talents to herself, and then the process of revealing them to others was very long and drawn out, and, apparently, required an eventual trip to rehab. I hope the characters knew what mystery they were selected to solve because I sure couldn't wrap my head around it.
While fun, the historical accuracy wasn't anything more than you could pull off from an hour from hanging out on google. And the romance wasn't anything spectacular, but more reminiscent of demure high school days when you silently brooded for your heart's desire instead of pursuing it.
In the end, the book was worth it to me because my husband had thought enough to get it for me. Beyond that, the author didn't keep me hooked, and I spent more time questioning the characters than being captivated by them. And it left me with one burning question still hanging in the air: what was the shocking twist that was to leave me breathless??
If you ask me, I did a lot of sighing throughout this book.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
I had a love/hate relationship with this series from the very beginning. Not more than 100 pages in and I e-mailed my equally bookish friend: "Have you read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo? It's so awful! I'm about 100 pages in and all they've talked about is the state of the Swedish economy!" She e-mailed back: "LOVE those books, especially the third; it was my favorite. Salander is my hero." With that recommendation and a rabid curiosity to find out what on earth a Swedish Ponzi scheme had to do with a girl gone missing more than 40 years ago, I pressed on.
The first book was the final push to be put on antidepressants, and I had to be book-mailed into reading the second (I had to read that, she had to read Marley and Me). But with the abrupt ending of The Girl Who Played with Fire, there really was no question of continuing on to The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
Picking up where the second left off, we're with Salandar after she's been shot in the head, buried alive, and somehow managed to survive it all. Blomkvist, the scrappy journalist who just always manages to show up at the right place at the right time, has done what do one else seems capable of doing: figuring out what happened.
He found Lisbeth is the nick of time and she spends most of this book looked in the hospital. Complicating matters is that her psychopathic father - consequently, the one who helped shoot and bury her - is locked in the same hospital after receiving a blow to the face with an ax. So, my first question is, how on earth are these people surviving this stuff? For the most part, these books are a little more reality than I'm equipped to handle, until we get to the violence and then it's like everyone turns into Batman.
Despite being a complete lunatic, Salander's father presses charges, in addition to the one's she's already facing, so now she must be put on trial. Which means the secrets she's kept for so long are all about to come out.
As we know, Salandar has an aversion to authority and has a bad habit of refusing most of the help she's offered. But unless she finally breaks down and tells her story, her case has too many holes to clear her name. So with the help of a plucky young doctor and a janitor who knows a little too much about Iraqi authority, Salandar tells her story.
In spite of my reservations concerning the story, my heart was pounding through the entire book. It's very cat-and-mouse, and who's brain is faster than the other? And it is sometimes comical with the abundance of investigators snooping around Sweden.
It doesn't keep you guessing, most of the characters are already doing that anyway, but it does keep you wanting more. This book - well, the story as a whole - also has the potential to create more conspiracy theorists. As a citizen, I can read a news story about a liquor store hold-up and not believe anything different, but what if it really *is* some big government scam?
More than anything, I applaud the author, Stieg Larsson, who is able to interweave story and characters so magnificent it makes the head spin. I constantly found myself thinking, where does he come up with this stuff??
On an unrelated note, mostly because I don't understand what the Amazon excerpts have to do with the story besides making you think of something else for a moment, this book interested me in Amazons of Black Sparta: The Women's Regiment of Dahomey. I wasn't aware that such little was known about Amazons, and that most of it was considered legend or untrue.
As always, I recommend reading Larsson's series before seeing the movies. It's an incredibly enthralling story with many different pieces that fit together just so. It shows you the good guys and the bad guys, but that there are usually more good guys.
The first book was the final push to be put on antidepressants, and I had to be book-mailed into reading the second (I had to read that, she had to read Marley and Me). But with the abrupt ending of The Girl Who Played with Fire, there really was no question of continuing on to The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
Picking up where the second left off, we're with Salandar after she's been shot in the head, buried alive, and somehow managed to survive it all. Blomkvist, the scrappy journalist who just always manages to show up at the right place at the right time, has done what do one else seems capable of doing: figuring out what happened.
He found Lisbeth is the nick of time and she spends most of this book looked in the hospital. Complicating matters is that her psychopathic father - consequently, the one who helped shoot and bury her - is locked in the same hospital after receiving a blow to the face with an ax. So, my first question is, how on earth are these people surviving this stuff? For the most part, these books are a little more reality than I'm equipped to handle, until we get to the violence and then it's like everyone turns into Batman.
Despite being a complete lunatic, Salander's father presses charges, in addition to the one's she's already facing, so now she must be put on trial. Which means the secrets she's kept for so long are all about to come out.
As we know, Salandar has an aversion to authority and has a bad habit of refusing most of the help she's offered. But unless she finally breaks down and tells her story, her case has too many holes to clear her name. So with the help of a plucky young doctor and a janitor who knows a little too much about Iraqi authority, Salandar tells her story.
In spite of my reservations concerning the story, my heart was pounding through the entire book. It's very cat-and-mouse, and who's brain is faster than the other? And it is sometimes comical with the abundance of investigators snooping around Sweden.
It doesn't keep you guessing, most of the characters are already doing that anyway, but it does keep you wanting more. This book - well, the story as a whole - also has the potential to create more conspiracy theorists. As a citizen, I can read a news story about a liquor store hold-up and not believe anything different, but what if it really *is* some big government scam?
More than anything, I applaud the author, Stieg Larsson, who is able to interweave story and characters so magnificent it makes the head spin. I constantly found myself thinking, where does he come up with this stuff??
On an unrelated note, mostly because I don't understand what the Amazon excerpts have to do with the story besides making you think of something else for a moment, this book interested me in Amazons of Black Sparta: The Women's Regiment of Dahomey. I wasn't aware that such little was known about Amazons, and that most of it was considered legend or untrue.
As always, I recommend reading Larsson's series before seeing the movies. It's an incredibly enthralling story with many different pieces that fit together just so. It shows you the good guys and the bad guys, but that there are usually more good guys.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Catching Fire
Like the proverbial train-wreck, Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games trilogy is one in which I cannot look away. I'm not a big fan of series-books in general and I've never liked to read one after the other; but wait too long and I've forgotten the characters and plot. So a few books after completing The Hunger Games, I found I just couldn't take it any longer, I had to know what happened after Katniss and Peeta kicked ass in the Games.
I'm not sure what I had expected, and I should have seen it coming, but the deeper I get into the story, the more appalling I find it. And it's for young adult which, for me, meant The Baby-Sitter's Club. However, I am managing to find solace in the fact that if this were for mature audience the violence and gore would be off the charts. *sigh*
Although the Tributes are mere pawns for the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta took things into their own hands and decided between them who would be the victor of the Hunger Games - both or neither. The Capitol chose to look foolish with two victors rather than look even more foolish no victors to then parade on the Victory Tour.
As if the Games weren't horrible enough, as the victors, Katniss and Peeta must now visit each District on a Victory Tour, a sort of sick parade of pseudo-gloating as to why their children are no longer alive. And as they make their way from District to District it becomes startlingly obvious people are most displeased, but not because of Katniss and Peeta.
The token of luck given to her before entering the arena has now become like the bat signal, the picture in which you know who you are speaking with can be trusted. Rumblings of a revolution are spreading like a smoldering fire and the Capitol blames Katniss. Now it is her duty to prove her final act in the arena was done out of head-over-heels, desperate-for-each-other love, and not as means to spark an over-throw of the government. Her family threatened, she is once again sent into the arena, proof she has been unsuccessful in her endeavor.
With one goal in mine, she quickly learns her opponents have a different agenda altogether. Like the first, I was hopeful everyone would drop into the arena and unanimously decide to not participate. But then I realized since the Capitol has been known to wipe out contestants in the blink of an eye out of sheer boredom, violent deaths were going to happen any way you sliced it.
Locked inside the arena, Katniss is unaware of the events unfolding in the "real world," as are we, until Katniss makes a split-second decision that changes everything.
Katniss is back, better than ever, and more precariously walking the line between not becoming the Capitol's pawn and keeping her family safe. But now things have spiraled out of control so our once keep-to-herself character must now look her enemies in the eye.
The shining spot to this trilogy being classified as Young Adult is that it undermines previous heroines who were thrust upon us simply because the story was good (I'm looking at you, Twilight). Katniss teaches even the most mature reader to always be kind to others, and that taking care of our loved ones far surpasses anything else.
And, for me, it's about damn time the Capitol recognize.
I'm not sure what I had expected, and I should have seen it coming, but the deeper I get into the story, the more appalling I find it. And it's for young adult which, for me, meant The Baby-Sitter's Club. However, I am managing to find solace in the fact that if this were for mature audience the violence and gore would be off the charts. *sigh*
Although the Tributes are mere pawns for the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta took things into their own hands and decided between them who would be the victor of the Hunger Games - both or neither. The Capitol chose to look foolish with two victors rather than look even more foolish no victors to then parade on the Victory Tour.
As if the Games weren't horrible enough, as the victors, Katniss and Peeta must now visit each District on a Victory Tour, a sort of sick parade of pseudo-gloating as to why their children are no longer alive. And as they make their way from District to District it becomes startlingly obvious people are most displeased, but not because of Katniss and Peeta.
The token of luck given to her before entering the arena has now become like the bat signal, the picture in which you know who you are speaking with can be trusted. Rumblings of a revolution are spreading like a smoldering fire and the Capitol blames Katniss. Now it is her duty to prove her final act in the arena was done out of head-over-heels, desperate-for-each-other love, and not as means to spark an over-throw of the government. Her family threatened, she is once again sent into the arena, proof she has been unsuccessful in her endeavor.
With one goal in mine, she quickly learns her opponents have a different agenda altogether. Like the first, I was hopeful everyone would drop into the arena and unanimously decide to not participate. But then I realized since the Capitol has been known to wipe out contestants in the blink of an eye out of sheer boredom, violent deaths were going to happen any way you sliced it.
Locked inside the arena, Katniss is unaware of the events unfolding in the "real world," as are we, until Katniss makes a split-second decision that changes everything.
Katniss is back, better than ever, and more precariously walking the line between not becoming the Capitol's pawn and keeping her family safe. But now things have spiraled out of control so our once keep-to-herself character must now look her enemies in the eye.
The shining spot to this trilogy being classified as Young Adult is that it undermines previous heroines who were thrust upon us simply because the story was good (I'm looking at you, Twilight). Katniss teaches even the most mature reader to always be kind to others, and that taking care of our loved ones far surpasses anything else.
And, for me, it's about damn time the Capitol recognize.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Fifty Shades of Grey (and pink, and red, and maroon...)
Unless you live under the rock I do, Fifty Shades of Grey is only something you sort-of remember your coworker talking about. My friend, Mer, had found a write-up about it somewhere online and jokingly suggested it be our next book-club book. So it was suggested, so it shall be done, as she more seriously suggested it after our wine-fueled conversation inevitably turned to butt-sex.
For dinosaurs like myself, we had to wait until the beginning of April for the release, but those with e-readers could download it early. By the time I received my copy (the afternoon of its release), one book-clubber was already into the second book of the trilogy. Yes, that's correct, this appropriately-dubbed "mommy porn" (although anyone would appreciate it) is three-books long, and they're of pretty hefty size; long enough for the really weird stuff to come out.
Unlike everything else I've read about Fifty Shades of Grey, this won't include spoilers of the second and third books. Simple reason for that: I haven't read them. This also won't include a fawning over of Christian Grey. I get it, but that's not what floats my boat at the moment.
See, Christian Grey is an extremely successful, young, and even more beautiful entrepreneur. As the reader, I wasn't too sure exactly what his job was, then again that's why they award special business degrees, and not to me. But his work seems to take a back seat as he becomes more infatuated and obsessed with Anastasia Steele, recent English literature grad. But he does it in such a charismatic, charming, knock-your-socks-off romantic way that you can't but help but want to bend over so he can shove a cane up your ass.
They embark on a heavily emotional and physical relationship that ends up testing both Christina and Ana's "hard and soft" limits. Listening to the author, E.L. James, speak on the creation of her bestseller, I realized I read too much into the story. Then again, I saw so much of me and relationships I've been in throughout the book that it was difficult not the take the story as a giant metaphor for what people have been doing for centuries: being masochistic. Who hasn't been with someone we knew in our heart was going to hurt us but didn't care because the in-the-moments were amazing?
When you read it - because you do have to read it; I'm even shipping it to a friend of mine - I think it will be easy to draw parallels to your own, what you thought, was a mundane life. Besides the sex scenes - which romance novels a la Fabio cannot even compare - most everything in the story is relateable in some way, which is why I think it is so popular. The sex is just the icing on the cake, but extra special because it teaches women that exploring their sexuality and what makes them feel good is perfectly ok, should be expected, and can be a turn-on in and of itself. But my absolute favorite part about the book is the discussions it has spawned; you've made an instant BFF if the stranger next to you on the bus has read it also.
I absolutely cannot wait for book club this month! :-)
For dinosaurs like myself, we had to wait until the beginning of April for the release, but those with e-readers could download it early. By the time I received my copy (the afternoon of its release), one book-clubber was already into the second book of the trilogy. Yes, that's correct, this appropriately-dubbed "mommy porn" (although anyone would appreciate it) is three-books long, and they're of pretty hefty size; long enough for the really weird stuff to come out.
Unlike everything else I've read about Fifty Shades of Grey, this won't include spoilers of the second and third books. Simple reason for that: I haven't read them. This also won't include a fawning over of Christian Grey. I get it, but that's not what floats my boat at the moment.
See, Christian Grey is an extremely successful, young, and even more beautiful entrepreneur. As the reader, I wasn't too sure exactly what his job was, then again that's why they award special business degrees, and not to me. But his work seems to take a back seat as he becomes more infatuated and obsessed with Anastasia Steele, recent English literature grad. But he does it in such a charismatic, charming, knock-your-socks-off romantic way that you can't but help but want to bend over so he can shove a cane up your ass.
They embark on a heavily emotional and physical relationship that ends up testing both Christina and Ana's "hard and soft" limits. Listening to the author, E.L. James, speak on the creation of her bestseller, I realized I read too much into the story. Then again, I saw so much of me and relationships I've been in throughout the book that it was difficult not the take the story as a giant metaphor for what people have been doing for centuries: being masochistic. Who hasn't been with someone we knew in our heart was going to hurt us but didn't care because the in-the-moments were amazing?
When you read it - because you do have to read it; I'm even shipping it to a friend of mine - I think it will be easy to draw parallels to your own, what you thought, was a mundane life. Besides the sex scenes - which romance novels a la Fabio cannot even compare - most everything in the story is relateable in some way, which is why I think it is so popular. The sex is just the icing on the cake, but extra special because it teaches women that exploring their sexuality and what makes them feel good is perfectly ok, should be expected, and can be a turn-on in and of itself. But my absolute favorite part about the book is the discussions it has spawned; you've made an instant BFF if the stranger next to you on the bus has read it also.
I absolutely cannot wait for book club this month! :-)
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Hunger Games (aka You Have Got to be F*cking Kidding Me)
My friend, Mer: "I've been reading the Hunger Games trilogy. Amazing! I can't put it down! Katniss is bad-@ss!"
Me: "I've never heard of it." (which is very strange considering it is Harry Potter-big, including the movie out next month)
Mer: "Really?! Its like Survivor, a reality show on TV but they battle to the death. And it's kids - 12 to 18 year-olds."
Me: "You have got to be fucking kidding me, that's awful."
And trust me, it only gets more awful-er.
Don't get me wrong, Mer was right - it is definitely a book you'll find difficult to put down. If I didn't have a toddler I most likely would have finished it in a weekend. And if not for the hold-your-breath-while-on-the-edge-of-your-seat, non-stop action, you might be able to spare a moment or two to contemplate just how horrific and awful this story is. P.S. Mer later told me it was categorized as a Young Adult novel. You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Maybe I am too aware of current events. Maybe this is one instance where my degree in Political Science is not a good thing, for I foresee the government depicted in The Hunger Games to be scarily right around the corner. Especially if a Republican is elected President instead of Obama or - I'll settle for - a Green Party candidate.
As all good stories do, this took place in post-apocalyptic America; or what used to be known as North America, but now is some creepy, freaky place that just makes me thing of dull silver medal. There is the Capitol, which is the equivalent of the Pharaoh's of Egypt - glimmering in wealth; whereas the outlining areas - in this case, Districts 1 through 12 - are poorer than poor. So under-fed and under-paid are they, Katniss and her friend, Gale, are forced to hunt beyond their fenced District to ensure their families survival.
But there was a point in time the Districts didn't feel so helpless, and it's because of their collective efforts that the Games even exist. SPOILER ALERT: the Games are their punishment; watching their children kill each other in cold blood is what they get as retribution. But you don't think of that because you're too busy concentrating and hoping Katniss survives. She's not very outspoken, is smaller than the other contestants, and comes from the poorest of the Districts; 12. She's not favored to win but rapidly becomes the favorite. The Hunger Games is truly an underdog story at it's best.
Suddenly, she just might have a chance at winning and, as the reader, you're constantly praising her cleverness, and her ability to manipulate a situation to her favor while I would just be sitting in the corner of the arena - an artificial environment created by the government - rocking back and forth blowing a whistle. In short, I probably would have been one of the first ones killed.
I was naive. As I read, I foolishly hoped that each of the contenders - 1 boy and 1 girl from each District - would collectively decide that this was a horrible practice and band together to defeat the government. Nope. In some Districts, children are training for the Games from the moment they can walk in the off-chance their name would be picked from the lottery system.
At it's core, The Hunger Games is a tale of survival; and knowing that belief in oneself is the only way said survival is going to happen. It's a bit dramatic for every-day life, but thank God it's not every-day life. Yet.
I was constantly surprised as I continued to read, but that didn't stop me from trying to predict where Suzanne Collins was going to take me next. I was shocked by the ending, and it left me wondering what on earth could happen in the next 2 books; a lot, apparently.
The general premise of the story confuses me. In our protest-happy nation (I was one of the few liberals adamantly against the Occupy movement), I didn't understand how the parents could stand by and just let this happen; just watch as their children died violent deaths hundreds of miles from their home. I had to keep telling myself it was fantasy. All of the characters' names are weird, so it has to be fantasy.
Only my friend, Mer, brought up an interesting point: things like this aren't new. Gladiators would fight to the death, and I'm pretty sure some people participate in ultimate cage fighting in some part of the world. We subject animals to it for our entertainment so this "fantasy" idea isn't that far of a stretch.
I wouldn't say I disliked it, but I wouldn't say I loved it, either. It was a story, it was interesting, it kept me entertained, guessing, and - most importantly - wanting more. Now that Katniss has surpassed even her own expectations, what could possibly be around the corner?
We'll find out in
At it's core, The Hunger Games is a tale of survival; and knowing that belief in oneself is the only way said survival is going to happen. It's a bit dramatic for every-day life, but thank God it's not every-day life. Yet.
I was constantly surprised as I continued to read, but that didn't stop me from trying to predict where Suzanne Collins was going to take me next. I was shocked by the ending, and it left me wondering what on earth could happen in the next 2 books; a lot, apparently.
The general premise of the story confuses me. In our protest-happy nation (I was one of the few liberals adamantly against the Occupy movement), I didn't understand how the parents could stand by and just let this happen; just watch as their children died violent deaths hundreds of miles from their home. I had to keep telling myself it was fantasy. All of the characters' names are weird, so it has to be fantasy.
Only my friend, Mer, brought up an interesting point: things like this aren't new. Gladiators would fight to the death, and I'm pretty sure some people participate in ultimate cage fighting in some part of the world. We subject animals to it for our entertainment so this "fantasy" idea isn't that far of a stretch.
I wouldn't say I disliked it, but I wouldn't say I loved it, either. It was a story, it was interesting, it kept me entertained, guessing, and - most importantly - wanting more. Now that Katniss has surpassed even her own expectations, what could possibly be around the corner?
We'll find out in
Monday, February 20, 2012
Books For Free(ish)!!
Like any book-junkie, I have a lot of books. While I appreciate and like every book I read for what it is (minus that one I left in the airplane front pocket), I generally have no interest in re-reading anything besides The Catcher in the Rye and that is just so I'll get the Family Guy jokes. I love my collection but I realized that if I'm not going to read them, why should I prevent someone who hasn't?
I'm not charging for them, but ask that you send money for shipping; I'm no Rockefeller. I'm planning to also present the collection to my book club, then ultimately sell whatever is left at our garage sale this spring/summer. Just send me an e-mail at thelargetotelady@gmail.com
The Secret Life of Bees, The Girl Who Played With Fire, Chelsea, Chelsea, Bang, Bang, Half Broke Horses, The Hour I First Believed, Sea Glass, Princess of the Midnight Ball, Cane River, The Pilot's Wife, Strange But True
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Left Behind, The Partner, The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Mirror Image, Charming Lily
The Devil Wears Prada (totally better than the movie), Dog Handling (sorry it's upside down), Sex and the City, Monkey Business, The Dominant Blonde, White Oleander, Bergdorf Blondes
Danielle Steel's Crossings, Something about Irish Catholic Priests, A Streetcar Named Desire, Lovers & Dreamers (a complete trilogy of Nora Roberts novels), The Journal of Mortifying Moments, Faking It, The Bachelorette Party, Star, Notting Hell, Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber, The Washingtonienne
sTori Telling, Columbine, Marley and Me (sorry, my "Marley" got to it), Bergdorf Blondes (another, slightly more mangled, yet still readable, copy), Memories of a Geisha, Something else by Danielle Steel, The Shining, American Vertigo
Confessions of an Ex-Girlfriend, LA Woman, In Her Shoes, The Givenche Code, The Sweetest Taboo, Slave to Fashion, Eat, Pray, Love, Confessions of a Drama Queen, The Weight of Water, Ralph's Party, The Curious Case of the Dog in the Night Time, Live! From New York, It's Lena Sharp!, Lisa Marie's Guide for the Perplexed, Running in Heels, The Thin Pink Line, The DaVinci Code, Dating Can be Deadly, Babyville
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Jemima J
I haven't read a chick-lit since I entered what Cher's BFF so eloquently called my "post-adolescent, idealistic phase." They gave me hope that my life would become what I felt it was supposed to, thus I could relate to them. But once you've read one you've read them all. Jemima J, however, is the one that broke the mold.
Many chick-lit novels try too hard to be clever, quippy, and ironic, whereas Jane Green plays it cool and refined in Jemima J. A Brit who admittedly weighs about 100 pounds more than she should, Jemima is quiet, reserved, and has generally accepted that her body will stick with her forever. With a hopeless crush on her male colleague, and a general longing to become her female coworker, Jemima constantly finds herself turning to the only thing that's ever really committed to a relationship with her - food. Then - low and behold - Jemima discovers the answer to everything: the internet.
You never really consider the time in which a book was written until something as monumental and pivotal as the internet creeps into the story. Perhaps Ms. Green saw it coming, but the majority of laughs in the beginning came from Jemima, Ben, and Geraldine's first experience with the world wide web. Interestingly enough, it hadn't been around for very long and naked pictures could still be found. The only difference today is that most of the naked pictures are of our current politicians. But I digress....Written in 1999, I vaguely remember being in high school, learning of the internet, and finding internet chat rooms to be the only real interest, and apparently Jemima - or JJ, as she would now be called - felt the same way.
Deciding not to pass up the opportunity, JJ begins corresponding with Brad, the epitome of American-made, bleach-blond, buff California hunk. Of course his name would be Brad. She passes herself off as London's answer to the glamour girl without missing a beat since he does live across the pond, after all. Naturally, he wants to meet, so JJ heads for LaLa Land, (SPOILER!) only after becoming the gym-addicted, food-conservative American the rest of the world envisions us to be.
Besides grossly entertaining, funny, and charming, Jemima J teaches us how to be humble, accepting of ourselves, and accepting of others. And we realize that if we forget our own troubles for just a minute, we'd see everyone is busy battling their own desires, emotions, and conflicts. The back cover boasts an ending you won't see coming, and boy it's wasn't kidding; I was hooked until the absolute final page.
The only difficulty I found while reading this homage to the ugly ducklings of the world (which is everyone in some way or another) was the author's tendency to interject as a sort-of narrator instructing us how to feel about Jemima's situation. We find ourselves hopeful only to have our balloon busted by the author who feels the need to tell us fate is not working in JJ's favor. In fact, fate doesn't work in JJ's favor until the final page, and even then we learn fate only interjects when we're ready and have become the people we're supposed to be. It's a roller-coaster of a ride that teaches us life will always be a roller-coaster, no matter if you fix everything you've decided is "broken". As a quote from a classmate in my yearbook reads, "Even if the grass is greener on the other side, it is, essentially, just grass."
I borrowed Jemima J from my friend who pulled it from her book shelf, thrust it at me and said, "You HAVE to read this book." I love most books, but she was definitely right. You'll scarf this down in a weekend (it took me a week thanks to no lunch breaks at work and spending all of my time with a toddler), so make sure it is on your to-read list/in your tote/available at your local library as the one chick-lit you must read (Jennifer Weiner's Good In Bed is the other).
You never really consider the time in which a book was written until something as monumental and pivotal as the internet creeps into the story. Perhaps Ms. Green saw it coming, but the majority of laughs in the beginning came from Jemima, Ben, and Geraldine's first experience with the world wide web. Interestingly enough, it hadn't been around for very long and naked pictures could still be found. The only difference today is that most of the naked pictures are of our current politicians. But I digress....Written in 1999, I vaguely remember being in high school, learning of the internet, and finding internet chat rooms to be the only real interest, and apparently Jemima - or JJ, as she would now be called - felt the same way.
Deciding not to pass up the opportunity, JJ begins corresponding with Brad, the epitome of American-made, bleach-blond, buff California hunk. Of course his name would be Brad. She passes herself off as London's answer to the glamour girl without missing a beat since he does live across the pond, after all. Naturally, he wants to meet, so JJ heads for LaLa Land, (SPOILER!) only after becoming the gym-addicted, food-conservative American the rest of the world envisions us to be.
Besides grossly entertaining, funny, and charming, Jemima J teaches us how to be humble, accepting of ourselves, and accepting of others. And we realize that if we forget our own troubles for just a minute, we'd see everyone is busy battling their own desires, emotions, and conflicts. The back cover boasts an ending you won't see coming, and boy it's wasn't kidding; I was hooked until the absolute final page.
The only difficulty I found while reading this homage to the ugly ducklings of the world (which is everyone in some way or another) was the author's tendency to interject as a sort-of narrator instructing us how to feel about Jemima's situation. We find ourselves hopeful only to have our balloon busted by the author who feels the need to tell us fate is not working in JJ's favor. In fact, fate doesn't work in JJ's favor until the final page, and even then we learn fate only interjects when we're ready and have become the people we're supposed to be. It's a roller-coaster of a ride that teaches us life will always be a roller-coaster, no matter if you fix everything you've decided is "broken". As a quote from a classmate in my yearbook reads, "Even if the grass is greener on the other side, it is, essentially, just grass."
I borrowed Jemima J from my friend who pulled it from her book shelf, thrust it at me and said, "You HAVE to read this book." I love most books, but she was definitely right. You'll scarf this down in a weekend (it took me a week thanks to no lunch breaks at work and spending all of my time with a toddler), so make sure it is on your to-read list/in your tote/available at your local library as the one chick-lit you must read (Jennifer Weiner's Good In Bed is the other).
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Princess of the Midnight Ball
General consensus around the book club was that we had reached our depressing literature quota. Like movies, I don't understand why everything produced for an audience needs to highly dramatize real-world events, like we need any more reminders of the dispicability of the human race. But off my soapbox I go because we broke from reading the next critically acclaimed novel to dig through the trenches of young-adult fantasy with Princess of the Midnight Ball. And I'll bet you thought Twilight and those Spooky Snackhouse books were the only young-adult fantasy novels.
It was a welcomed foray into fantasy that I don't always accept because the imagery can get a bit confusing; it's not a genre I read much of or even gravitate towards. Although I did find scenes hard to picture in my largely unimaginative brain, it was overall a lovely story that I think would translate beautifully on the big screen. At least then I wouldn't have to spend energy trying my damnest to picture everything.
Queen Maude died long ago but her legacy and - most importantly - her debts live on. She left behind the world's most beautiful garden with a team hired specifically to maintain it's flourish year-'round. She also left behind a dozen beautiful daughters responsible for paying the debt she was not able to clear.
Unable to bear children of natural means with the King, Queen Maude visits the King of the underworld, King Under Stone, to make him a deal. In return, she is blessed with 12 daughters in a dozen years, but they must dance for him and his courts' entertainment until dawn, never excused even for sickness or fatigue. The original deal has an end-date and, of course, a dark King of the underworld can always be counted on to keep his word.
Naturally, the 12 princess are sworn to secrecy, and enchantments throughout the castle keep anyone from finding out just why the princess' dancing slippers are worn through night after night. That is until a soldier-turned-gardener, seemingly unextraordinary, becomes extraordinary, and finds special ways to find out special secrets.
Aside from being a beautiful tale with equally beautiful imagery, Princess of the Midnight Ball also offers lessons in humanity and the benefit of being humble, nonjudgmental, and tolerant. It's a good lesson in Karma, and how a simple act of subconscious kindness might just save the lives of 12 princess. If I had one critique it is that it's a bit Harry-Potter-ish, which I don't necessarily mind since I'm sleazy for Ron Weasley.
It's a short read and something I wouldn't have minded reading aloud to my toddler. Totally worth hauling around in your tote. Or diaper bag if you just don't want to deal with both.
It was a welcomed foray into fantasy that I don't always accept because the imagery can get a bit confusing; it's not a genre I read much of or even gravitate towards. Although I did find scenes hard to picture in my largely unimaginative brain, it was overall a lovely story that I think would translate beautifully on the big screen. At least then I wouldn't have to spend energy trying my damnest to picture everything.
Queen Maude died long ago but her legacy and - most importantly - her debts live on. She left behind the world's most beautiful garden with a team hired specifically to maintain it's flourish year-'round. She also left behind a dozen beautiful daughters responsible for paying the debt she was not able to clear.
Unable to bear children of natural means with the King, Queen Maude visits the King of the underworld, King Under Stone, to make him a deal. In return, she is blessed with 12 daughters in a dozen years, but they must dance for him and his courts' entertainment until dawn, never excused even for sickness or fatigue. The original deal has an end-date and, of course, a dark King of the underworld can always be counted on to keep his word.
Naturally, the 12 princess are sworn to secrecy, and enchantments throughout the castle keep anyone from finding out just why the princess' dancing slippers are worn through night after night. That is until a soldier-turned-gardener, seemingly unextraordinary, becomes extraordinary, and finds special ways to find out special secrets.
Aside from being a beautiful tale with equally beautiful imagery, Princess of the Midnight Ball also offers lessons in humanity and the benefit of being humble, nonjudgmental, and tolerant. It's a good lesson in Karma, and how a simple act of subconscious kindness might just save the lives of 12 princess. If I had one critique it is that it's a bit Harry-Potter-ish, which I don't necessarily mind since I'm sleazy for Ron Weasley.
It's a short read and something I wouldn't have minded reading aloud to my toddler. Totally worth hauling around in your tote. Or diaper bag if you just don't want to deal with both.
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