These were my favorite books when I was a child. I enjoyed some more than others, but the ones I loved I REALLY LOVED. If I would have read them for tThese were my favorite books when I was a child. I enjoyed some more than others, but the ones I loved I REALLY LOVED. If I would have read them for the first time as an adult my views would probably be a bit different, but I didn't, so suck it and stuff....more
Up until the ending, I really did not understand why this book is widely considered to be the best (or at least the top five) of Christie’s books. TheUp until the ending, I really did not understand why this book is widely considered to be the best (or at least the top five) of Christie’s books. Then it happened, and I was like WHAT!?
Actually it was more like a double what, because not only was it a really daring ending, especially for being published in 1926, but I actually guessed the murderer! That has never happened to me before. I am THE WORST at guessing mystery endings. I am gullible and trusting and passive as a reader. Authors: take advantage of me shamelessly, and I will enjoy it. Make no mistake, it was entirely a guess. No deductions involved whatsoever. I merely thought of the thing I thought least likely and picked it. That it turned out to be true, and worked beautifully, is entirely accidental (on my part, not Agatha Christie’s–her part was brilliant).
I’m going to split the rest of this review up into spoiler and non-spoiler sections, because I just have to talk about the ending.
Spoiler Free Zone: Knowing the ending for me is coloring everything I have to say about the rest of the book, but there are some things I am free to say without spoiling you. Firstly, the premise. The titular Roger Ackroyd, fresh off the suicide of his fiance, is murdered mysteriously in a country estate. Hercule Poirot is living next door in retirement, and is brought in on the case by Mr. Ackroyd’s niece. The narrator, and Poirot’s assistant for the case, is Dr. James Sheppard. He lives with his spinster sister Caroline, whom I adore. She plays daft but is actually very sharp. And of course, there are an assortment of relatives and friends who all behave mysteriously enough to warrant suspicion, and Poirot does his Poirot thing of being small and cute and condescending all at the same time.
As a sidenote, I would highly recommend the audiobook for this one. Hugh Fraser does a wonderful job. His voice is like butter.
Spoilers Ahoy:(view spoiler)[Seriously don’t keep reading if you don’t want to know. At the end of the book, Poirot warns all the major suspects that he is going to tell them everything, and that it would be in their best interest to give up all their secrets before he does it for them. This includes our narrator, Dr. Sheppard, who turns out to have been helping conceal the main suspect in the investigation, and having given no evidence of it in his account even to us the readers. And there’s a reason for this, which is that the book we are reading is actually a document Sheppard constructed for the sole purpose of being read after the fact. He was convinced Poirot would be unable to solve the case, and like Poirot’s past assistants, he could publish the document to acclaim. Only Poirot does solve the case and Dr. Sheppard is found out. Dr. Sheppard is the murderer. There were subtle clues all throughout the book, more in what he as narrator doesn’t say than what he does. It was one of these instances that caused me to wonder, Hey, what if he was the murderer? And then I giggled a bunch, I’m sure. The book then becomes an artifact of the mystery itself. To get even more spoilery, Poirot allows Sheppard to finish up the book as a sort of confession, before Sheppard kills himself to save face. It was all very British. (hide spoiler)]
The ending retroactively made the rest of the book rise up several levels in my eyes, and I’d love an eventual re-read to see if I can pick up on all the clues.
I am decidedly against the way this book ends, and much prefer the alternate ending created for the 2005 radio version (which I'm sure made Adams rollI am decidedly against the way this book ends, and much prefer the alternate ending created for the 2005 radio version (which I'm sure made Adams roll around in his grave not a little, but I don't care). Also, I miss Fenchurch, and Random is a total shit....more
I really really really love this one. I think it's my favorite of all of them. Then again, I am a sucker for a good romance. And this one is good ANDI really really really love this one. I think it's my favorite of all of them. Then again, I am a sucker for a good romance. And this one is good AND kooky....more
This is the first time I've read this series in YEARS, and I've never bothered to think about them individually before (my copy is the Ultimate HitchhThis is the first time I've read this series in YEARS, and I've never bothered to think about them individually before (my copy is the Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide, which makes it easy to judge the whole series rather than its individual parts). Trying to do that on this read-through.
My brain is feeling very overwhelmed right now due to non-book-related things, so I'm not sure I'll do a full review, but I might have something to say later. Who knows. I'm not promising anything.
Anyway, this book was even funnier than I remember (probably because I'm an adult now and have a fully functioning brain)....more
Just realized I hadn't rated this. LOVED this as a kid. MIGHT have gone through a phase where I followed people around and wrote their personal shiz dJust realized I hadn't rated this. LOVED this as a kid. MIGHT have gone through a phase where I followed people around and wrote their personal shiz down in my notebook. MIGHT have gotten kicked in the stomach by my sister for it. Also, wasn't there a kid in this named Pinky Whitehead? Love it....more
I was doing so well with my review writing until I got to this book, just plodding along reading and reviewing, reading and reviewing. And then I gotI was doing so well with my review writing until I got to this book, just plodding along reading and reviewing, reading and reviewing. And then I got to this fucker. Not only did it traumatize me the whole time I was reading it, but just the thought of writing about it felt like re-living that trauma (and this isn’t even taking into consideration that the task of writing about this book even without the added pressure of traumatization would be a difficult task). So I am now way behind on my reviews. Thanks a lot, Walter M. Miller, except you can’t read this because you’re dead (but we’ll get back to that later).
A Canticle for Liebowitz is a classic of the sci-fi genre, although there’s barely any science fiction in it at all, excepting the unexplained presence of one character and a bit of spaceship flim-flammery near the end. Mostly, it’s a story about how humanity is doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over and over again (and also a story about how part of making those mistakes is struggling against making them as well). Take the circular thematic nature and nuclear weapons of Battlestar Galactica + the social commentary of 1984 + monks and Catholicism and you’ll have a close approximation of A Canticle for Liebowitz. Actually — and I believe I said this in a status update or a tweet or something while I was reading — I think this book is better, or at least more relevant to us now today, than 1984 is.
Because did I mention about how it’s fucking terrifying?
The novel is structured essentially into three smaller novellas that intertwine with one another. The first begins in a post-apocalyptic, post-civilization wasteland, some seven hundred years after the world was annihilated by nuclear weapons and the surviving world’s citizens responded by blaming scientists and people of learning: burning books, spurning education, and lynching those related in the streets. The titular Leibowitz is revered by an order of Catholic monks deep in the desert as one of the few men to successfully attempt to preserve books and knowledge in the face of a world gone mad — for six hundred plus years they have been working to canonize him as a saint. Leibowitz himself was murdered in the streets, essentially turning him into a martyr, and now the monks in the Order of St. Leibowitz follow in his footsteps, working to preserve and further learning, and shed some light on places long kept in the dark.
The first section ends on a rather bleak note, setting the stage for parts two and three, which take place, respectively, right at the dawn of a new age of enlightenment, and at the second coming of the end of the world.
Miller’s novel takes place in a world almost completely devoid of hope, which is what made it such a devastating reading experience for me. He writes about fear and violence with a frightening accuracy, and the ending of the novel all but condemns humanity as a species, a pessimism which is only counterbalanced by the way his monks mix a love of learning with their faith in a higher power. I was raised Catholic so this especially hit home for me, seeing a world in which those who champion educational enlightenment and spirituality don’t necessarily have to be at each other’s throats. But even in the oasis of the Abbey of St. Leibowitz, its inhabitants cannot be protected from the blunders of the species they belong to.
I’m not sure this is a book I’ll be reading again, and if I do it won’t be for years and years, but it was a book I’m glad I read the once, even if it was written by a man who was so disillusioned by the world that he eventually killed himself rather than having to face it any longer. I think books like this are important in making us ask ourselves tough questions, but I’m also the kind of person who prefers to look at the world with a little bit more optimism, so this kind of story isn’t one I’d like to read often. Especially if the ending is going to give me nightmares for weeks. I mean, seriously, you guys? It’s pretty fucked up. Smart and really well done, but fucked up nonetheless, which is what is keeping me from giving what might otherwise be called a modern masterpiece five stars.
I will admit to y’all up front that I have no idea what I’m about to say in this review.
I don’t want this to become one of those roadblock reviews forI will admit to y’all up front that I have no idea what I’m about to say in this review.
I don’t want this to become one of those roadblock reviews for me. You know, the ones where you just can’t figure out what to say because the whole book just overwhelmed you, and you can’t even figure out your own reaction, let alone how to sum up the book for other people.
I have no idea what my reaction is, or how to sum it up for you people.
So here’s what I can say about this book, exactly as thoughts are ocurring to me at this veyr moment:
1. It’s very well-written. This isn’t a surprise. From my (limited) experience of his writing, it’s clear the dude was at the very least highly gifted, if not an outright genius.
2. It’s the kind of book that even though it’s pretty short (two hundred plus pages paperback), every page is working hard. There’s no fat. He’s sort of like Hemingway in his precision, but on lots of drugs instead of drunk. Or the opposite of Henry James.
3. It’s an alternate history, the central ‘what if’ being: What if the Axis powers had won WWII? What kind of events would have precipitated that conclusion, and what would have been the result? That aspect of the novel is very interesting, seeing how the two main powers, Japan and Germany, essentially split up the world.
4. The novel follows several characters around who participate in events that are seemingly unrelated to one another. The cast of characters is varied: a Japanese businessman, a white American man who’s made a name for himself peddling American ‘antiquities’ to Japanese people, a Jewish man hiding in plain sight, his ex-wife, and a mysterious Swedish man in town for ‘negotiations’.
5. There are some pretty unique details happening here. Several characters are obsessed with the I Ching. One character quits his job making handguns to make jewelry. There is lots of Japanese fetishization by some characters. The clash between the Japanese and the German people is very understated and kind of frightening.
6. A large portion of the novel is devoted to the characters reading a novel within a novel, that itself is an alternate history, posing the question, ‘What if the Allies had won the war?’ The most interesting part about that is spotting the differences between what the fictional book postulates, and what actually happened in our history.
8. Philip K. Dick was seriously obsessed with questioning reality, or authenticity, or both.
9. I can’t figure out exactly what this novel is really about for me yet. I definitely need to re-read it. That’s sort of frustrating, but also kind of exciting.
10. I will read more Philip K. Dick. (But not until next year.)
And I think that concludes my review. I have a lot more to say, I can just feel it. Unfortunately my thoughts are really incoherent at the moment, so I will refrain from expressing them here at this time. (They would probably look something like this if I tried: DFOISJDF sdhgdsjf383838 !!! dfadfjadfadsfj ___________________ aodifa;sdfkja;sdkfj UUUUUUUUUUUBOOOOOOOOOEWEEEHHHEEEEEE.)...more
Henry James has beautiful people inside of his head, if only his verbal diarrhea didn't get in the way. Dear Jesus, I wish he knew how to write a shorHenry James has beautiful people inside of his head, if only his verbal diarrhea didn't get in the way. Dear Jesus, I wish he knew how to write a short sentence....more
Like most people, it seems, I saw the trailers for Andrew Stanton’s John Carter adaptation and thought it looked stupid. And this is coming from a perLike most people, it seems, I saw the trailers for Andrew Stanton’s John Carter adaptation and thought it looked stupid. And this is coming from a person who LOVES science fiction, especially of the pulpy kind (more often than not, the stupider it is, the more I love it), and who knew the history and importance of the John Carter name in relation to all kinds of sci-fi since its initial publication. The dismissal of this film has been written about by many people in the last couple of months, but the consensus seems to be that the marketing campaign for the film was completely botched, and that because the marketing failed to capitalize on the movie’s strengths and legacies, it thus failed to appeal to the very people who would have loved it, had their butts been in those seats during the opening two weeks. Because of this, John Carter* seems doomed to go down as one of the biggest box office bombs of all time. Which is a shame, because after reading that Vulture article I linked to above, I was consumed with curiosity about the film and went out to see it the very next day. No surprise, I loved it.
*As an aside, I can’t help but feel that it is extremely stupid that they cut the title from the originally proposed John Carter of Mars (although the film actually ends by adding the words “of Mars” to the title) to simply John Carter. I read somewhere that they were trying to avoid comparisons to the box office bomb Mars Needs Moms, but this is obviously a move both ironic and stupid, as I’m sure it led many people to wonder why they would ever care about that doctor guy from ER jumping around in some desert.
Extremely long story short, my love of the film (which was cheesy and romantic and spectacular in all the best ways) influenced me to finally seek out the source material, which had been on my radar for quite some time as one of the foundational texts of pulp and fantastical sci-fi. There are eleven novels in Edgar Rice Burrough’s Barsoom books (the first three of which were adapted by Stanton for the film), and the first of these is A Princess of Mars. A Princess of Mars chronicles John Carter’s first year on Mars: how he came to be there in the first place; his capture by the green men of Mars, a warrior race called Tharks; the exceptional physical abilities given to him by the light Martian gravity; his romance with the titular Martian princess Dejah Thoris; and his ultimate acceptance into the culture and lifestyle of Mars, which becomes his home. The novel is actually framed as a manuscript given to “the author” by his uncle, who proclaims his story to be true.
It was a bit strange going from the film to the text, as one of the things Stanton did was update the story a bit for modern audiences (clarifying some of the science, as it was almost a hundred years out of date, modifying problematic racial constructs, and editing a bit here and there for story and content), and weirdly, I like the film’s version* better. The novel does that weird first person POV thing that older novels sometimes do where the narrator tells exactly what happened in an almost clinical detail (sort of like a travelogue), and poetical images and character moments are somewhat rare. (It reminds me very strongly of the writing of H. Rider Haggard, a Victorian adventure writer who set most of his stories in Africa.) Some parts were pretty wacky in terms of Burroughs’ understanding of science, but overall I was surprised at how well most of it has held up. The power of Burroughs’ story (and imagination) makes it easy to overlook most of its faults.
*I will be honest with you here and admit that a large part of this bias PROBABLY has to do with the fact that I am now completely in love with Taylor Kitsch and think he is gorgeous and wonderful to look at and I want my DNA to be with his DNA forever.
I’m rating this 3.5 stars for now, mostly because it took me so long to get through. The beginning is gripping, and once Dejah Thoris comes into play some good character and action stuff starts happening, and then it kind of rockets until the end. The first 1/3 of the novel, however, is mostly concentrated on giving Carter’s anthropological observations about Thark culture, which is kind of interesting, but extremely less so than other things that I can think of (I think Burroughs wasted some opportunity here to really make Carter a sympathetic character by not playing up the fish out of water aspect enough — this is something the film does very well). I also think I had a hard time with it because I was reading it on the Kindle app on my phone, and e-books are REALLY not my thing. I like paper, the way it smells and feels, and the way that the physicality of actual printed books helps me connect to the story. It was hard for me to motivate myself to pick up my phone to finish reading when I have so many lovely printed books at my disposal, and I’m sure reading it so protractedly like that didn’t help my enjoyment of the actual story.
Anyway, moral of the story: John Carter is a good movie. Please rent it when it comes out on DVD.