This book was nothing at all like I expected it to be. I'll admit that I thought it was going to be a kind of 'carnival-freak' book, where all the wei...moreThis book was nothing at all like I expected it to be. I'll admit that I thought it was going to be a kind of 'carnival-freak' book, where all the weirdness is exploited and glamorized into something sexy and cool, but it wasn't like that at all. And I'm very glad that it wasn't.
What I liked about this book (well, one of the things I liked about this book) was the sense of normalcy about the peculiar children. They just are what they are, and though they are different, they still go about their day to day lives in relative normality.
Things are different in their world, but the parallels between our own were interesting to me. What makes a monster? Does it have to be a "monster", or can it be a man who does monstrous things? I liked that the setting made the point rather than the characters or the narrative. It was subtle and well done.
I really enjoyed all of the characters and the concept and the world that Riggs set up here. It was fascinating to me, and the integration of the old photos worked beautifully within the story. The writing was perfect, descriptive without being flowery. The pacing was great, and the creepiness (mainly in the beginning) sucked me in right away. Reading this on my nook, the images would appear without warning, and many of them were creepy enough to startle me. I liked it. :D
My one complaint is actually that I thought that the antagonists, the hallowgasts and wights, weren't really scary enough, and the explanation of what they are was kind of meh. It would have been better to have had no explanation than the one that we got. I also don't really understand the hierarchy of the hallowgast/wight relationship, so that was an issue too. (view spoiler)[Hallowgasts are monsters that feed on living flesh, and then apparently after a while, they "graduate" to becoming a wight, who then lives a kind of life of servitude to provide meals for the hallowgast. Seems like it should be the other way around, wights serve the hallowgast and eventually become one. (hide spoiler)]
That's really my only complaint though. I really did enjoy reading this, and I'm fairly certain that there will be a sequel soon. Should be interesting!(less)
When I started this book, honestly, I had no idea what to expect. I know that lots of people have loved Guernsey, and a friend of mine raved about it,...moreWhen I started this book, honestly, I had no idea what to expect. I know that lots of people have loved Guernsey, and a friend of mine raved about it, but I was dubious. I mean... the title just seemed silly to me. But now having read the book, the title makes perfect sense. Not only what it means, but also everything that it represents, and I can't really imagine the book having a different title now.
In addition to being dubious about the title, I've also been really impatient with books lately. They have to get to the good stuff quickly, or I find something shinier. Guernsey took a bit of getting used to - the format, being epistolary didn't help that much. The first letter, from someone named Juliet to someone named Sidney about someone named Susan Scott and something called English Foibles and the 'Society to Protest Against the Glorification of the English Bunny'.
Right then. I read a couple more letters, and thought, "Maybe later," and tried a couple other books. (Nook ownership encourages book polygamy, I swear it.) But I kept thinking about the letters, and who the people writing them were, and so I came back, and as soon as Dawsey wrote his first letter, I was hooked. I still think that the beginning is a little slow, but it did the job.
Overall, I thought that the epistolary style was great. It allows the characters to be themselves, for the reader to get to know them through their own thoughts, rather than an intermediary (a narrator) telling us about them. At times I thought that things were a little one sided, the letters providing responses to things that the reader wasn't privy to, so the reader would need to fill in the blanks, but I didn't mind this so much overall. It's better to pick a style and commit to it, in my opinion, than to try to be all things to all readers.
Another benefit of this style is that it's far more personal - written by a real person to be read by another real person. They aren't literature, they are bits of someone's life and thoughts and experiences. And that's exactly what they felt like.
I loved how they kind of skittered around the Occupation, while still showing exactly what it had been like. These people weren't whiners. They took the Occupation as another bump in the road and lived their lives around it. Their letters are full of the ways that their lives changed with the coming of the Nazis to Guernsey, but they were just telling someone who hadn't been there what it was like, not fishing for sympathy. That's a fine line, but I think this book walked it, and did it beautifully.
All that being said, I can't give this book 5 stars, although I wish I could. I didn't feel that the book was finished when it ended, and I feel a little bad for saying this, but that the book lost a bit of focus toward the end. Granted, the reader can fill in the blanks, but I was truly hoping for a more decisive non-romantic resolution. It's all well and good for the romance to have been wrapped up - but for me that was a side detail. That's not why I felt that we were in Guernsey. I wanted to see publication of the work-in-progress. I wanted to see the GL&PPPS read it, and commiserate over it, and begin to heal the griefs of their losses through it. Especially this last for Kit.
As it was, it was a beautiful book. Very quotable and moving and definitely worth reading. But I feel like the end could have come full circle and been much stronger. (less)
Preface: I chose this book for my very first real life bookclub meeting ever. There was also much drinking (by me) at this meeting, so... if my review...morePreface: I chose this book for my very first real life bookclub meeting ever. There was also much drinking (by me) at this meeting, so... if my review is less than coherent, well, actually, I think that's fitting, isn't it?
So, right. I chose this book blindly. Never read PKD before, although I have seen a few of the movies based on his work, and they are all interesting, to say the least. Having just read the amazetastic 11/22/63 by the King, I was in something of an alternate history mindset, and so TMITHC was chosen.
Nerves were on edge while I anxiously awaited the meeting to see what people thought. Hell, to see what I thought, even, because I finished it literally minutes before the meeting. Because I'm a slacker procrastinator who barely started it this week and read 90% of it between last night and today. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed this quite a lot, even though "enjoy" isn't really the word that comes to mind first... maybe "pondered"? Let's try that one out: "I pondered this quite a lot." Yes. That works. I pondered, and I discovered that I arrived at many more positive feelings than negative, and thus the term "enjoyed" enters into my vocabulary. I'm pleased to announce that my bookclub-mates also arrived at ponder-positive assessments. Bookclub choice #1: Success!
I feel like this is the type of book that begs to be re-read. I don't feel like I really "got" very much of it... or maybe I do/did and I'm just overthinking it? I don't know. Parts of it really frustrated and unnerved me, and I found myself angrily typing notes on my nook, like how "Lotze can go screw himself the shit" and "yay!! Baynes - show that shit what fear is!" and "seriously?!??!" (These are actual notes that I made while reading. That last one makes sense in context, I promise.). Parts of it were disturbingly unnerving in a "can't look away from the train wreck" kind of way. Fascinating and horrific at the same time.
There were some very interesting concepts in this book, and I thought that PKD did a fantastic job at capturing the different cultural nuances of both the Japanese and Germans. At first I was concerned that I wouldn't like the book because the writing was off-putting. Clipped sentences. No connecting words. Interrupted thought proc--. Then I realized that this was on purpose, after it switched for a bit, and I was actually really impressed. It worked well. The concept of Place was interesting to me, though not because I'd want to live with it. I would be Place-fucked because I can't be bothered to constantly worry about the formality of every single situation. Seriously, who has time to worry about whether the random person on the street is judging you for carrying your own bag, or walking when you could take a cab? Not me. No Place Becky, that's what they'd call me. But hey, at least I know my Place. Zing!
Anyway... I really enjoyed this book, and I'm looking forward to reading more PKD in the future. Yes indeedy. :)(less)
This continuation of the story from The Strain definitely provided more insight into a lot of different aspects of the story, and,...moreLow to mid 3 stars.
This continuation of the story from The Strain definitely provided more insight into a lot of different aspects of the story, and, if one extrapolates a bit, explains some things that were left unexplained in the first book. There was a lot of action, and a lot of gore and a lot of tension, and a whole lot of things-not-going-well-for-humanity-in-general, but all that being said, I didn't like this one quite as much as the last one.
I felt like some things were very... inconsistently convenient in this book. Things mainly pertaining to Z. I like the kid, but by the end of this book, I kind of feel like he's a big ol' plot device. I feel like he's there to move certain pieces of the story into place, and pull at our heartstrings at the same time. Since when did he have asthma? Never. But in this book, because it would make him more vulnerable, he did. The knife he carries explains a certain quirky naming convention in the books as well. It just kind of felt convenient, rather than realistic or true to the character.
And then this book, seemingly because I said in my review of the last one how I liked that this was a scientific and plausible virulent event, is now heading in the other direction... *sigh* Why couldn't it just be evolution, that some creepy little leech found out that hijacking a human makes for a much bigger feast than just latching onto one? I guess I'll have to see what the next book holds, to see where this goes, but right now, I'm disappointed in this causality shift. BAH!
But then, I liked it... I like the big-picture views we get from Eph's journal entries, and I liked the concept of the Ancients, and their role in this book. It didn't annoy me (well, other than the slight annoyance due to the stuff listed above), and I had no desire to throw it at the wall (not like I would, my Nook is my Precious!) and I finished it pretty quickly, so it did hold my attention and my curiosity, so that's a plus. I just feel like... so far, overall, this trilogy could be a stronger story than it is...
This is a beautiful, but heartbreaking story of a teenage girl who is dragged from her home in the middle of the night and deported to Siberia.
I read...moreThis is a beautiful, but heartbreaking story of a teenage girl who is dragged from her home in the middle of the night and deported to Siberia.
I read this in one afternoon. It was so well written and compelling that I needed to know what happened. I needed to know whether Lina and her brother and her mother made it through.
I could really identify with the characters in this story. They were all incredibly real and honest, and even when I disliked them, I felt that they could have easily stepped off the page and started walking around. I loved Lina's mother, Elena, most of all. I loved how she refused to give up hope, how she refused to let the situation change her or make her bitter or cruel. She was able to see the humanity in people who treated her as if she was less than garbage, and I admired her for that.
I would have really liked to find out more about what happened at the end, in the epilogue, since the ending was rather abrupt. But even for that, this story is amazing. I would definitely recommend it. Read with tissues handy. And be forewarned, the writing is beautiful, but the things that are shown are not. Just like in real life. (less)
I really enjoy reading stories about the Holocaust and about the people who have lived through it. I suppose that...moreThis review also posted on my blog.
I really enjoy reading stories about the Holocaust and about the people who have lived through it. I suppose that in a way, it helps me to gain perspective in my own life, and reminds me that there is goodness to be found in everything. The suffering of the Jewish people during WWII was immense, yet they continue to hope and live. That means something to me.
Heidegger's Glasses takes a different path, a surreal and philosophical and almost mystical one, and is a very different, but no less moving or beautiful story, because of it. We are told in the beginning that the leaders of the Reich were believers in the occult, and felt that winning the war hinged on answering letters to the dead. To do that, the Compound was formed underground, and multi-lingual Jews were placed there as Scribes to answer the dead's letters. When a letter comes in from a well-known person close to the Reich to a close friend who is currently in Auschwitz, the order comes down to answer the letter, even though the recipient is still alive -- the Final Solution must be kept secret, so the letter must not come from Auschwitz.
This throws a huge wrench in the lives of the Scribes, and the people assigned to run the Compound. Elie Schacten is close to the Reich, and has the ability to move freely throughout Germany as few do, and uses this freedom to help people as she can. Gerhardt Lodenstein the Oberst, is a good-hearted man who finds safety for the Compound in flying under the radar. Stumpf, the former-Oberst of the Compound is a believer in the occult and takes the letter writing to the dead very seriously, but is a bit of a fool, and so tends to bungle everything he touches. The letter is written, delivered... and goes very badly wrong.
I think that what I enjoyed most about this book is that we get to see the war and the Reich from people inside it that hate it. They don't believe and they live in fear and uncertainty that they will be found out. The Compound is a mostly-safe haven for the Scribes under Lodenstein, and a temporary refuge for Jews in hiding, but after Heidegger's letter fiasco, you can cut the tension with a knife. They aren't sure if the Reich will come crashing down on their heads, or if they've forgotten, or if they don't care... there are a million ifs, but life must go on and there's very little that can be done either way. I felt like I was there, and was worried for this group of people who had lost nearly everything already.
I really enjoyed the writing in this book. It felt simple, almost surreal without quotation marks for the dialogue. The prose was straightforward, but contained some beautiful quotes that I wish I'd have marked. The sections were very short, for the most part, and separated by the letters that the Scribes were answering. These letters told the story of the "outside world" almost as well as any full book would have done, so that by the end, we can see the danger that the Scribes have managed to avoid, mostly, but they still have reason to fear. There were some funny sections in the book as well, which surprised me, since I didn't expect it at all in a novel about Nazi Germany. This helped the surreal feeling as well, but also provided the story with a kind of false-lightness above the seriousness and fear.
The ending was a little abrupt for me. The time shift and the unresolved whereabouts of one of the characters was a bit sudden and and disappointing. I'd hoped for this character to find what they were searching for and to find happiness, so the shift to an entirely new character jarred a little bit. But otherwise, I really enjoyed the story, and would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a WWII story scene through a different lens. (less)
I hope that nobody will look at me funny when I say that I love reading WWII/Holocaust stories. I do. I'm drawn to the stories of the people - I want...moreI hope that nobody will look at me funny when I say that I love reading WWII/Holocaust stories. I do. I'm drawn to the stories of the people - I want to know what it is in us that makes us so cruel to others. I'm fascinated by people's stories- real or fiction. I don't think that they should be ignored or forgotten, and acknowledging them makes me more thankful for the good things that I have in my life.
Milkweed is a story of an orphan in 1930s Poland who knows nothing but survival. Not who he is, who other people are, nothing of the world around him. He knows only that he is small and fast and able to snatch food right from under the noses of the people it belongs to. He is eventually taken in by a gang of orphan kids, and becomes the special ward of one in particular, Uri.
I really loved Uri's character. He's generous, kind, wise beyond his years, in tune with the world around him, and street smart. He teaches, or tries to teach our main character orphan (who he later names Misha), about life and how to keep it. His character is almost that of a mentor, or older brother to clean-slate Misha, and I loved that he was stern with Misha when Misha obliviously ran dangerous risks that would endanger both Uri's and Misha's lives. He makes sure that when they have a surplus of food, that other orphans receive it.
When Misha ends up branded as a Jew and living in a ghetto in Warsaw, the tables turn a bit and he begins to act the "older brother" role for a young girl named Janina. Janina's family was once wealthy and well-to-do, and living in the ghetto is a hard adjustment for her. Her father, Tobiasz, takes in Misha as one of the family, and Misha smuggles food in from outside the ghetto to help feed the family, and a house of orphans in the care of another man.
Janina takes to following Misha on these trips, which is frustrating to me as a reader, because she's the epitome of a spoiled brat. She refuses to do what she's told, or to stay inconspicuous. She willfully causes a scene to get her way, and refuses to accept that her situation has changed. I could not understand why Misha stuck by her. I understand that he now considered her and Tobiasz as his family, but I'd have probably beat her to a pulp in that situation.
Her father is a kind man, and next to Uri, the only character that I cared for. He tries to make sure that his daughter is safely away from the ghetto when he finds out that they are being "resettled" elsewhere - a concentration camp - but she stubbornly and selfishly refuses. I couldn't stand the little brat.
It's hard for me to enjoy a story where so much focus is put on stupid or annoying characters that I cannot relate to. Every decision that Misha or Janina made was contrary to the one that I'd have made in their place. Janina ended up right where I thought she would in the end, but until then, every time that she wasn't caught by the patrols, it was unrealistic and aggravating, because she was essentially doing everything she could to be caught, and just got insanely lucky time after time.
On top of that, I felt like the writing was just... off. I don't know how to describe it, but it felt simplistic to me, even for a YA book. But at the same time, it felt like it was supposed to be imparting some great truths, and while there were a few good quotes, I didn't think that there was anything especially profound here.
So, this was OK. Not anywhere close to the best book I've read on this subject, but not terrible. I just expected a bit more, I think. (less)
I discovered this book after reading a friend's glowing review of it. From her review, this sounded like a book that I would love, the kind that I gra...moreI discovered this book after reading a friend's glowing review of it. From her review, this sounded like a book that I would love, the kind that I gravitate toward, and for the most part, it fit the bill perfectly.
This is a story that examines many sides of an issue, namely war and injustice, and how we're all, whether we know it or not, affected by that issue. We can ignore it, we can rail against it, or we can face it head on, but it will affect us just the same.
Sarah Blake tells her story with three different women, and three different storylines. The three women were real and felt honest and true, and they all spoke to me in different ways. I couldn't really identify much with Iris, honestly, as she is set in her ways and unbendable about a lot of things, content when her little environment is in order and content not to know what happens in the world outside her bubble. But I could understand, if I didn't agree, with her feelings on this, because it's easier to not know the terrible things that we can do to each other. In contrast to Iris is Frankie, a war reporter who wants to show the world what is REALLY going on in Europe, and make it personal, so that people will stand up and be outraged and want to stop it. I identified most with her, because she was brave and honest and willing to try to make a difference. I loved her. Lastly, we have Emma, who was the outsider of the story. Newly married to the town doctor, she is the kind of link between the two extremes of Iris and Frankie. I liked her character, she was plucky and brave in her own way, but innocent and small in a world that is much bigger than she is, and cruel.
I loved the way that Blake brought the scenes and story to life. Maybe it was the reader, but I don't think so (as I have some complaints about her). I think it was just her ability to portray life in a real way, and make us feel it. I got goosebumps listening to the soldiers when Frankie was with them on the watch-lines. There were also a great many deaths in this book that hurt. I have an overactive empathy gland, I freely admit that, but when an author can bring me to care about a character in a chapter, or a few pages alone, to the point that I feel their loss when they die, I think that's saying something. It's always the personal stories that get to me when I read books like this, and this one delivered so much in that vein that I almost felt overloaded at times. As I'm sure Frankie did.
I do think that sometimes the descriptive language went a little too far into floweriness. Blake would describe all the little things that one notices during times of stress, when time seems to slow or stop, like the ticking of a clock, or the bang of a shutter, but it seemed to be just a little too flowery in the way that it was described. Just a bit less wouldn't have been as distracting to me, and would have allowed me to focus on what was being said, not how it was relayed.
The last quarter of the book lost a little steam for me as well. I wanted it to pull all of the storylines together with a grand finale ending, but instead it was more like a regular firework show that just ends. It's satisfying, because it is beautiful to watch and experience, but it's just missing that little something to tie it all together and let you know it's over. Listening to this on audio, the reader went straight into an afterword, and I had to rewind a bit and listen again before I realized that it wasn't part of the story.
The reader was a little bit disappointing to me. She did a good job, but frequently, her conversation tone was very different from how I'd have "heard" the same dialogue if I was reading it. Every female seemed to sound a little unsure, questioning and apologetic. Every male seemed to sound smug and sure and condescending, especially when it was a male news-guy talking to Frankie - even when you could tell that they had a rapport and seemed almost as equals. Will was the exception to this rule, but he was one of the few main male characters, so maybe he got his own personality to the reader... Even outside of the dialogue, her voice just sounded... off. A descriptive sentence would sound as if she's trying to impart a lot of emotion, while an emotional sentence will sound like she's trying to inject a little levity. I had to try hard to not listen to her tone and to listen to the context, because that told me what I needed to know more than her voice did.
All in all, the story was very good, and the reader was OK. I would suggest reading the book over the audio, but if the audio is all that's available, don't skip it. The book outshines the reader here and is well worth the time. :)(less)
This was a lovely story set in the Welsh countryside during the end stages of WWII. The story centers around two main characters, 17 year old Esther a...moreThis was a lovely story set in the Welsh countryside during the end stages of WWII. The story centers around two main characters, 17 year old Esther and German soldier Karsten, and gradually and beautifully shows how their lives intersect.
The story alternates between Esther's and Karsten's points of view. Each little section gives us more and more insight into the characters and their lives and their hopes and dreams. Esther is a miner/sheep farmer's daughter, so her life isn't exactly luxurious. She works hard, and bears a great deal of responsibility after the death of her mother. Karsten, who is my favorite character, is a fatherless German who, being raised by his mother in their inn, is very naive and innocent when it comes to men. He doesn't understand the way that men think or act, although he is among them and one of them. I loved the inverted perspective that we get from Karsten, and his sense of honor and virtue and truth, even when it causes him pain at the derision of his peers.
There was a running theme in this book of courage and cowardice, and what those things actually mean to us. How they make us who we are. Also, a theme of home, nationality and indentity, and that who we think we are isn't necessarily who we REALLY are.
I very much enjoyed this book, even though the war itself and the Nazi atrocities were far in the background, which isn't the usual WWII book I go for. I loved that this was a story about people, and felt personal and intimate and real. There were some unrealistic things, to me, but those come down to the behavior of people, and nothing in that is ever unrealistic, as people are unpredictable and strange, sometimes.
I enjoyed the ending as well, and the openness that it left us with, so that we can end it in the way that the reader finds appropriate, whatever will give the reader closure. :)(less)
I have had this book on my To-Read list for a while, but never got around to reading it until now. I'm glad th...more3.5 stars, with a slight nudge toward 4.
I have had this book on my To-Read list for a while, but never got around to reading it until now. I'm glad that I read it because it was pretty good, and parts were very creepy. I didn't find it scary and had no problem sleeping or anything reading it, but there were parts that had a higher than average creep factor, and it was nice.
I liked that this book had a realistic baseline, and felt like it could truly happen. Don't get me wrong, I like the traditional vampire lore that is based on a curse or some evil or something, a changing of the soul that's manifested in the body, if you will... but this was different and I really liked the concept, as well as the science behind it.
There were things that I felt could have been stronger, and more fleshed out, mainly the characters. There were a few references that didn't really bear out in behavior, and some behaviors that didn't quite match the information that we had, like Setrakian's stamina, or Ephraim being a recovering alcoholic of less than a year and not craving a drink... but it was enjoyable nonetheless. I mostly didn't have any trouble liking or caring about these characters, so the little inconsistencies didn't become issues for me. Also, I feel like there were one or two unresolved issues in the story (or maybe they were resolved, but not exactly clearly?), but they didn't detract too much from the story, and could still be addressed in later books.
I also liked the writing for the most part. It had a sort of "For Everyday Use" feel, but then some parts were written in such a way as to just feel like they were more. Again though, there were sections that, for lack of a better term, tried too hard and felt a little forced or out of place. For instance, this line: "Like smoke rising up a chimney, we must force him to the roof." This, in the middle of a vampire vs human battle... I just feel like the first part of the line makes it awkward and takes me out of the story. I think of myself as if I were in the story: I'm fighting my ass off to stay alive here, I see my target, I communicate my intention in the shortest possible command to save my breath, to not waste time, to not give anything a chance to kill me while I'm waxing poetic. "Force him to the roof!" or at the most, "We must force him to the roof!". Who has time for similes in life or death situations? Sure the hell not me.
Anyway, I'm curious where this story is going to go... there was an interesting development at the end that has me intrigued...
I've had this book on my to-read list for a long time, 3 years or so, but it was one of those books that I didn't really think that I would ever reall...moreI've had this book on my to-read list for a long time, 3 years or so, but it was one of those books that I didn't really think that I would ever really get to. A 'lifer'. I'd read Brooks' Year of Wonders back in 2008, and I liked it, but about 4 years has passed now, and the more I read in those intervening years, the more I came to feel like it wasn't really all that impressive, after all. I especially feel that way after finishing People of the Book. The writing in YOW just doesn't even hold a candle to the writing in POTB. It's a beautifully written, moving book, and I'm sorry that I put off reading it for so long.
I will say that there were parts of POTB that felt too modern for the historical sections, and even too "British" (mainly because the 'could/should/would have done' phrase sticks out like a sore thumb to me), and I thought that the romantic interest was awkward and didn't really ever sit right with me, but aside from those two things, I couldn't really find anything to criticize in this book.
I read for pleasure, and this book drew me in. I thought it was a fantastic melding of history, bibliophilia, socio-political issues, and life. I thought the characters were interesting, and even though most of them were only bit-players, I never actually felt like that's what they were while reading. They had history, and depth, and personality, and I very much enjoyed reading their stories, even when they were disturbing or heartbreaking.
But mostly, I loved this book for the story of the haggadah itself. I loved the way that the history of the book unfolded, with each clue to its journey through the years being shown as a story in itself, moving backwards in time until the origin of the book is shown. The historical sections were wonderful - they all felt completely real, although they were all horrifying as well, especially the 1492 Inquisition section.
I remember studying the Inquisition in school, and somehow it never really conveyed just how fucked up that shit was. That's probably why we never learn anything. We sanitize history to the point where it's completely lost all meaning, so we just keep doing the same shit over and over. We're still killing each other over differences in opinion regarding which religion is "right", or because a man dares to love another man and want to share his life with him, or because someone's skin is the wrong color, or because... we're just fucking bored and hate-filled. For fuck's sake. When will we grow up?
"You've got a society where people tolerate difference[...] and everything's humming along: creative, prosperous. Then somehow this fear, this hate, this need to demonize 'the other' --it just sort of rears up and smashes the whole society."
I am always fascinated when I read survivors' accounts of the Holocaust. It amazes me that people could be put through such terror and pain and misery...moreI am always fascinated when I read survivors' accounts of the Holocaust. It amazes me that people could be put through such terror and pain and misery, and still not lose hope of something better tomorrow.
Maus really shows that aspect of the story. Art Spiegelman recounts his father's ordeal in unique form, a comic. While he's at it, he also examines his own relationship with his father, and his parent's relationship with each other, and the differences between a single generation that can be caused by surviving one horrific, but ongoing and traumatizing event. Spiegelman shows with shocking clarity how people who did not experience the Holocaust can never fully understand it's horrors. Even the son of a Holocaust survivor is not able to see anything near the full scope of this tragedy until he writes it down for others to experience.
I've had this book on my To-Read list for a long time, since I really enjoy reading books of this kind. I haven't seen the movie, and I really had no...moreI've had this book on my To-Read list for a long time, since I really enjoy reading books of this kind. I haven't seen the movie, and I really had no idea what to expect from this one. That being said, I wish I could have liked it more than I did.
This story is told in 3rd person limited, from the perspective of a 9 year old boy. Bruno, our main character, is moved unexpectedly from his large home with 5 floors (if you count the basement and the little room with the high window at the top) in Berlin to Out-With, where the house is only 3 floors (if you count the basement) where he's bored, has no friends, nowhere to explore, and nothing to do except look at the people behind the fence wearing the striped pajamas.
Bruno doesn't know who the people behind the fence are, or why they are there, or... well, anything. And it just wasn't believable to me that he should be so obliviously naive, which is one of the major issues that I had with this book, and a big part of why I found it so disappointing in the end.
I have a few reasons for not believing in Bruno's "innocence". First, Bruno was born in Berlin in 1934, well into the Nazi party's regime. I cannot find it in myself to believe that Bruno could have lived 9 years in this environment of anti-Semitism and have never even heard of a Jew before. This kid went to public school, and hung around other boys both his age and older. Bruno's own father is in the Nazi military, had "The Fury" to his house for dinner, and was personally given orders by "The Fury". I don't believe that the term "Jew" was never, not once, used in Bruno's presence, by someone at school, or on the street (which is so busy that you could be pushed from pillar to post, specifically), or in his own household.
People who hate, especially in an environment where that hatred is not only tolerated but encouraged and treated as "right", generally hate vociferously. It's not something we're born with, it's something we must be taught. That's how racism works. So it doesn't make sense to me that someone who obviously believes that Jews are inferior, who feels that Germans have been wronged by the Jews, who feels that Jews should be punished, and that those who disagree are cowards at best and traitors at worst, as Bruno's father clearly seems to believe, would fail to delineate the "us" from the "them" to his son.
And Bruno is not stupid, though he is rather self-centered, and sees everything around him in terms of his own life experiences. But he notices things, even if he doesn't understand them or their significance. And we see in the course of the story that when he's curious enough about something, he'll ask for information about it, even if he doesn't really learn the right info, since usually his equally self-centered and ignorant sister is providing the answers. But still, it just doesn't work for me that he should be portrayed as such an innocent blank slate.
I grew up in an area where racism was very common, but thankfully my mom taught me differently - and started doing so early, by which I mean around the time I could talk. Very young children mimic, and at some point every child will have heard something they shouldn't have and then repeated it. It's inevitable. Young children also ask a bajillion embarrassing questions. "Mommy, why is that lady's skin so dark?" "Mommy, why is that man so fat?" "Mommy, why does that man get a yellow star? I want a star!" Just ask Louis CK about the Why Game. I don't have kids, but even I know that it's never ending. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Over and over and over...
Any of these kinds of things would have been perfect times for Nazi Dad to say, "Well, little Bruno, that man gets a star because he's a Jew, and we're rounding him, his family, and everyone like him up so that we can cleanse the earth of their filth." But he didn't, apparently, which begs the question: Why not? Nazis were in power, and they even had programs specifically designed for indoctrinating kids. But little Bruno was kept ignorant of the attitudes of the period. Because if he hadn't been, then this story wouldn't be possible: Bruno wouldn't have been that innocent, naive, oblivious blank slate he had to be. And that's a huge plot hole for me, and a big disappointment.
Moving along to the writing itself, I have to say that, again, it was something of a disappointment. Well, the writing wasn't terrible, but some of the techniques used within it were irritating as hell. Like this line: "The rope was easy enough to find as there were bales of it in the basement of the house and it didn't take long to do something extremely dangerous and find a sharp knife and cut as many lengths of it as he thought he might need."
First, why does the narrator feel the need to specify that knives are dangerous? Because Bruno is 9? Secondly, not only is it a run-on sentence, but what exactly is "extremely dangerous"? Finding the sharp knife, or using it? Third, why even mention the tool used at all? Why not just say "The rope was easy enough to find as there were bales of it in the basement of the house and it didn't take long to cut as many lengths of it as he thought he might need." It feels very much as if the narrator was talking down to the reader, and trying to protect them perhaps? I'm not a huge fan of that. Let readers think for themselves.
Another two examples of this protection thing: 1) The narrator has a bad habit of editing out the terms the Nazis used to describe Jews. "'Hey, you!' he shouted, then adding a word that Bruno did not understand. 'Come over here, you--' He said the word again, and something about the harsh sound of it made Bruno look away and feel ashamed to be part of this at all."
Bruno may not know the term, but why edit it? Let's look at Harry Potter for a second. When Hermione is first called a Mudblood by Draco Malfoy, it's not edited out, despite Harry not knowing the term. Instead, he picks up from context that it's derogatory and ugly, and we, as the reader, do the same. That's the proper way to communicate to readers, and to trust them to understand and be shocked by the term and its intent.
2) The narrator cuts away from anything resembling violent action. In a scene where a Jewish waiter spills wine on a Nazi soldier, we're treated to this: "What happened then was both unexpected and extremely unpleasant. [Nazi] grew very angry with [Jew] and no one [...] stepped in to stop him doing what he did next, even though none of them could watch."
I edited out names, but regarding the action in that scene, that's it. Of course, we can imagine what happened. Of course, we know how brutal Nazis, and people in general, can be. But then at the end of the story, we're left with these lines: "Of course all this happened a long time ago and nothing like that could ever happen again. Not in this day and age."
Nice. Some reverse psychology there. Tell us nothing like that could happen now, because we're all so tolerant and peaceful. The object is that we start questioning whether it could happen, or even whether it could be happening now. Subtle. Except again it's a fail, because we learn nothing at all from this book. What's the point? "Pay attention"? To what? If Boyne is not even willing to call out the behavior we're supposed to think is so bad, not willing to show people how needlessly cruel and brutal and inhumanly awful people have been to others, what the hell is stopping us from being way that now? We wouldn't recognize it if we saw it. We don't learn anything by promoting ignorance and whitewashing the past.
Bruno may not have understood what was happening around him, but a skilled writer takes that character's lack of understanding and shows the reader the truth. Boyne tried his hand at this, and succeeded in a small way, in that the reader understood more of what the Jews were going through than Bruno did, but too much was avoided in the guise of protecting the reader, and overall, it failed. Bruno never learned anything. He never grew as a character. He was as self-centered at the end as he was in the beginning. Disappointing.
This book could have been so amazingly powerful by showing the true horror of Auschwitz through the eyes of a child. But it didn't. It shied away from everything that would have meant something. And that's the biggest disappointment of all. (less)
Dear Bolt, This is going to be something of a "Dear John" letter. I'm sorry in advance, and I'm going to say right off the bat that while I don't thin...moreDear Bolt, This is going to be something of a "Dear John" letter. I'm sorry in advance, and I'm going to say right off the bat that while I don't think this was all you, or all me, I think we both had faults that led to this situation. I hope we can still be friends after, because I don't hate you. I'm just... disappointed.
We've had a little flirtation thing going on for years. Since 2008, you've called my name and whispered promises of sweet, sweet booklove to me whenever I would walk by my bookshelves. And I know that you think I just ignored you, but I didn't. I always knew you were there, but I admit to being selfishly promiscuous and taking out other books before you. Many, many other books. You always waited, always understood, and I appreciate that. Although it's a little weird, and sad. But whatever, we are who we are, right?
Finally I gave you your shot, and our first night together was... good. Not amazing, but not bad. And then the rest of our time together stayed right there, in "good, but not great" territory. This wasn't your fault. It's just that, well, having been around the bookcase as many times as I have, a girl might meet a book that just wows her, sweeps her off her feet, and then takes her on this whirlwind ride, leaving her breathless and aching for more and a little empty inside... and so, Bolt, while you're surely great in your own way... well, I felt like we just lacked that spark. I'm not going to name any titles - we don't need to go there - but I'll just say that other book was amazing, but left me wounded, and, I'm sorry, but you didn't quite fill that hole. I just have to be honest.
I felt like you were a little emotionally detached, a little messy, a little scattered and unfocused. But worst of all, I felt a little hint of misogyny, and that definitely made things a little uncomfortable for me. I know you weren't trying to say that ALL women are bad, or evil or whatever, or that men are somehow better... but it just seemed like every time you'd start to tell me a little story, there was an evil chick in it. I just felt like you were trying to make a point or something. Yeah, the main "bad guy" was a guy, but proportionally, you have to admit that the women in your little stories weren't really painted with a loving brush. Just sayin'.
And, I'm sorry to be harsh, but I think you should see someone about your mother issues. I mean, it seems like you loved her, but when she died it seems like you completely shut down and detached. She's the reason for your love of stories, and the reason you told them all to me, but I never really felt like there was a real bond between you. I wanted to know you mourned her death, but instead you just turned really selfish... like you felt like her death was about you, and that your main story was just an adventure to try to put your life back to what it was before her death, without regard for her at all. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but that's just how it seemed to me.
Getting back to the subject of your stories, why were there so MANY? I liked them, sure, but after a while, they all started feeling the same to me, and I just wanted things to move along a bit and stop getting so sidetracked. This is what I mean about being scattered and unfocused. I felt like you had a story about every old fairy tale ever written, just changed and darkened a bit, which made them all feel similar to each other. I need excitement to keep things interesting. I have a wandering eye. You knew that when you met me.
Basically, what this all boils down to is that I wanted more from you. I like you, and had a good time, but I don't think a second date is in our future. I'm sorry. I really wanted to love you, but it just wasn't in the pages for us.
I really hope that you find a girl who can love you for you, Bolt.
I've wanted to read this book for a very long time, and for reasons unknown to me, I've put it off for almost as long. So when a friend of mine on Goo...moreI've wanted to read this book for a very long time, and for reasons unknown to me, I've put it off for almost as long. So when a friend of mine on Goodreads started it, I decided to read along.
I seem to gravitate toward books related to the Holocaust, however demented that may be. It's not that I enjoy the suffering of others, its that I want to understand. I want to know how people can be so cruel and horrible to each other. I want to know how people can take that cruelty and keep taking it and taking it and taking it and still survive. And so I read holocaust books, and books that contain horrible atrocities and inhumanity and suffering.
I don't really know how to review this book. Honestly, I feel a little crappy for only giving it 3 stars... I feel like I'm discounting the author's suffering and the losses he and all Jewish people endured and the holocaust in general by not giving this book 5 stars. But that's not true, and it's not my intention to discount or downplay anything.
I think honestly it was the writing that did it. There were certain lines that moved me, and made me take a step back and say wow, but they were few and far between. Mostly I thought that the writing seemed very simple, to the point of being almost cold and distant. Perhaps it WAS cold and distant, and that the only way Wiesel could tell this story was to tell it this way. I can understand that, certainly, but I'd had such high expectations of this book that I'd expected to be a weeping puddle the entire time - yet I, the girl with the far, far too active empathy gland, didn't shed a single tear while reading this story. And that in itself is cause for me to worry, because I SHOULD have been a weeping puddle.
There didn't really seem to be anything humanizing here. Wiesel related his story, and told of the people who held out hope after hope alongside the people who would kill their own family for a scrap of bread alongside the people who just gave up. True, these are all human stories, but I couldn't identify with them or put myself in their place. It was just too distant and withdrawn from the personal story, and dwelt on the "...and then this happened..." method.
I do think that this is a book that everyone should read, however. Regardless of how distant the story feels, it does relate something of the horror that Jewish people had to contend with on a daily basis, and the constant fear that today would be their day to die. It also deals with faith in the light of such atrocities, and the loss thereof. I can understand that, I think, because it's hard to put your faith and love in a God that is exterminating your people, after thousands of years of persecution already. But genocide is faithless and faceless... it just is. And it should not be.
Anyway... I liked this book, but I wanted to love it. I wanted to feel like something had changed in me after I'd read it. I wanted this to be a book that would mark me. But sadly, it didn't. :((less)
When I first saw this book at the thrift-store months ago, I thought to myself that it had to be amazing. The cover image intrigued me, I'm interested...moreWhen I first saw this book at the thrift-store months ago, I thought to myself that it had to be amazing. The cover image intrigued me, I'm interested in reading books that pertain to the Holocaust, and at only 218 pages, it's short so I felt sure that it would pack a punch.
The first part interested me, due to the fact that I felt the book was leading up to something really dramatic and exciting, but I never felt that spark that makes a book great. Everything felt a bit rushed, and matter-of-fact, and almost scripted. The beginning of Hanna and Michael's affair was so abrupt that it seemed unnatural.
The second part, which should have really interested me, as it's the part that dealt with the majority of the Holocaust issues, was interesting only because of Hanna's actions. Her secret wasn't really a revelation to me, as I had suspected it for quite a while.
The third part was boring to me. Michael annoyed me in his alienation from others, and his refusal to accept other women as they are and instead tries to make them fit into this ideal Hanna-mold that Hanna herself didn't even fit. It felt to me that he gave up living after his affair with Hanna deteriorated, just as he had given up against her so many times while they were together. Hanna was the star, and Michael was responsible for the stage-dressing and supporting roles.
One thing that irritated me throughout the story was Michael's inability to remember the things that he wants to tell us about. I understand that most people do not have 100% recall, but I counted at least 5 examples of where he would try to describe what he couldn't remember. This just seemed so lazy to me. Like the author expects the reader (meaning us) to do all the work of imagining the scenario for him, so that he does not have to give it life of its own. I suppose that some will say that Michael's inability to remember everything makes the story more real, but I just kept thinking what a cheat it was.
This was an OK book. I'd recommend it if I thought that the person would really enjoy it, but I myself felt disappointed by it over all. (less)
I wasn't really sure what to make of this book when I first saw it, but after having read it, I would say that I am glad that I did.
This is one of th...moreI wasn't really sure what to make of this book when I first saw it, but after having read it, I would say that I am glad that I did.
This is one of those books that really makes you look at things from a different perspective. I can relate to Hannah, because I remember being 13 and having little patience with traditions and customs, and just wanting to hang out with my friends.
But given the experience Hannah had, she was able to see things in a new way, and was granted a gift, even though it was at a great cost, to be able to know and really understand her family's past and how they became who they are. And because of this, she gains a newfound respect and admiration for them, and her own life, that she might not have otherwise known.
This is the lesson that this book taught me. Yes, it was about the Holocaust and the epic tragedy that occurred, but I think it was more about understanding and respecting where you come from, and not letting trivial everyday teenage life get in the way of honoring your past.
***SPOILERS BELOW***
Ultimately, I gave this one 4 stars only because the book never really explained who/where Chaya was really. With these types of books, where someone goes back in time into the body of another person, I always wonder where the person who is inhabited goes when the person who is inhabiting them is there.
Did Chaya die when she was ill, allowing Hannah to come back in order make her a hero to her Aunt? Or did Chaya sort of get shunted off to the side when Hannah took over, which means that Chaya had no choice in the sacrifice she made?
I hope the latter is not the case, although near the end it is mentioned that Hannah has 3 sets of memories -- of being in Lublin, of being with Gitl and Schmuel, and of her American family. It seems to me that Hannah should only have had 2 sets of memories if Chaya was not in there somewhere.
The last possibility is that Chaya was Hannah in a past life, whose life Hannah had a vision of (through Chaya's eyes, perhaps?) at just the right moment to attain the perspective she needed... Of the three, this is the most appealing to me, although some aspects of the story don't fit perfectly with this theory.
Overall, I am very glad that I read this book, and would highly recommend it.(less)
For the most part, I enjoyed this book. It did a good job of telling the story of a man who changed the lives of so many, while under their oppressor'...moreFor the most part, I enjoyed this book. It did a good job of telling the story of a man who changed the lives of so many, while under their oppressor's noses.
Unfortunately, throughout the book, it would lapse into these "back-story" areas that felt forced... like historical text. I know that is what it is, really, but considering that this book states that it is a "fiction" and a "novel", it shouldn't feel that way, in my opinion.
This book did do a good job at looking at the Nazi occupation, ghettos, and Concentration Camps from the Jewish perspective; how Jewish people ultimately allowed more and more restrictions on their lives in the hopes that cooperation would win them lenience.
I would recommend this book to others; it is definitely worth reading, but was a little dry at times. (less)
I'm not really sure what to think about this one, it was interesting, in that I was curious where all the little snippets and fragments would be going...moreI'm not really sure what to think about this one, it was interesting, in that I was curious where all the little snippets and fragments would be going, and how they would all come together, but I can't really say that they did, except in the vastly interpretable possibilities.
There weren't really any characters that I could identify with. The main character just listlessly wanders through life, being shepherded along by whatever circumstances come, accepting everything, not even caring enough about his own life to try to save it. The narrator/author finds his way into the story a few times, but we learn nothing about him, really, and he adds next to nothing to the story, unless it's supposed to add a mild sense of realism. It didn't, for me, it only confused me, as I wasn't sure how a separate person would know all about the main character's thoughts and dreams and the like, when it seemed that they never actually connected in any way in the story.
The secondary characters were all rotten in their own ways. Aside from making me frown a lot as I read, they left no lasting impressions on me at all. They could have been any rotten jerk person, or any no-personality, and I wouldn't really know the difference. I just finished, and I can't remember half of their names. Even the war, which was supposed to be awful and raw and horrid felt like it was just... academically described. I didn't FEEL anything as I read this, and for being such a must-read book, I'd expected to.
Which brings me to my next point. This book is, at least on the surface, about the bombing of Dresden. I don't know anything about that, and still don't. OK, I take that back. I now know it was bombed. But that's it. There was no light shed on the reasons for the bombing, and next to nothing told about the aftermath of it either, except for two pages from the end of the book, in which Billy describes the death mines. That's it.
This book doesn't even know what it's about. I'm sure that people will argue with me about this, and say that I'm wrong and that the book is about this, or that, or the confluence of events caused by the catastrophe of the human condition with regards to the symptoms of life, or something that I apparently missed. That's cool. But I stand by my statement. For a book that claims to be about the Dresden bombing, there's almost nothing about that. For a book that's called "Slaughterhouse-five", there are very few mentions of the slaughterhouse. Rather, most of the book is concerned with Billy and Billy's life and his unstuckness in time, but it's incredibly impersonal, almost to the point of being unfeeling, so I wouldn't say it's about life either. This is a book about nothing. Or maybe more apt - this book is about paradoxes - nothing and everything at the same time.
There's nothing to glorify war here, no heroes marching off bravely into battle, no glorious deaths, etc. But there's nothing that makes it awful either. True, there is hunger and a boot shortage and illness and death, but there was really no feeling of suffering or loss or anger about it. This book just seems to say that war, as well as everything else, is pointless, unavoidable and fated, so why bother trying to change anything - just ignore it and look at this shiny penny I found! Ooooh. O_O
I disagree with that, obviously. I disagree with the concept of life being a series of moments that are always planned, always unchangeable, always destined. I disagree with the idea that, even if we should somehow be given a glimpse of the future, that we should just blithely accept that future and come whatever may. If I see my future, and I don't like it, sorry, I'm changing it. My path isn't written in stone.
I did think that the concept of time travel was interesting here. Honestly, the time travel alone, even though I don't agree with what it implies, is why I gave this 3 stars instead of 2.
I like the idea that we can't really ever die, because we have always existed, and will always exist, in some point in time. I wouldn't want to continually hop around to the points of my existence like Billy does, exactly, but I do like the concept of my being timeless. Not that it will do me any good, but it's a nice thought, in a way.
Even the time jumps in the book are interesting, as Billy doesn't know where he will end up or when. His life seems to carry on without him, while his consciousness is in one time or another, so it's like his mind just falls into his body at a given point in time. This is a weird thought for me, because it implies that we really have no life at all, and that our bodies are merely doing exactly what they are meant to always do at that moment. However, I don't know if that's true either, because it's possible that we do control our destiny, or maybe time is just a trickster manipulating us into thinking so.
At one point, Billy, who is not attracted to his new wife (who is overweight and not exactly a looker, apparently) tells her that he likes her as she is after seeing a future for himself that shows that his marriage is "bearable". Now, was his marriage bearable because he told Valencia (the wife) that he liked her as she is, thus making her content with him and happy and not a shrieking harpy? Or was it going to be bearable whether he said anything or not? Or would it have been bearable only in his mind because he saw that it would be and therefore accepted that as gospel and would interpret anything as being "bearable"? Essentially, did he create the future that he saw by seeing the future and accepting it and acting accordingly? If so, is that not then shaping our future?
I wonder how this book would have played out had the main character had some initiative to take matters into his own hands. I wonder if this book is a missive to just do what you do and have no regrets because you're always supposed to do that because that's what you're made to do. That's kind of hopeless and sad, I think. What's the point of being human if we're not able to be alive and in control of ourselves?