There are still few who can match the rhythm and beat that Harper Lee set out on a dented silver tray for the world to see back in my parent's time. T...moreThere are still few who can match the rhythm and beat that Harper Lee set out on a dented silver tray for the world to see back in my parent's time. They were the lucky ones. They got to hear her voice (was is melancholy, crackly with mischief?) and see her on talk shows perhaps. But the most I envy of any person is to be able to have said, "I knew Capote, and I knew his well. Enough to dog a case!" I could have gone for days on end firing questions away at her. But it would have arose in a hernia no doubt, but there is something about these country women that makes them last like Twinkies.
[image error] Main Entry: save face Part of Speech: verb Definition: preserve one's dignity Synonyms: preserve one's honor
There was nothing that could...more[image error] Main Entry: save face Part of Speech: verb Definition: preserve one's dignity Synonyms: preserve one's honor
There was nothing that could drag me into reading this book. Mulish was not my nature, but this book made me want to make like a celebrity and shave my head (which I would eventually end up doing five years later anyways). Parties were supposed to be my prime joy, but I spent most of them in the corners, people watching. Well. Watching for certain people. There are those who know me as a bookworm( whatever the hell that is supposed to mean) and they somehow sniff me out at these gatherings. I gathered that I had a thing for shooting myself in the foot. Over a dozen times.
Oh, er, fantastic.
'Chubs! How are you?makeitthroughChekovjustyet?'
In the same breath they were able to greet me and puncture my literary pride (damn, wish I was that talented). But it was Salinger who never failed to make me look like a nincompoop. I was not worthy to share the twenty minutes and punch with a handful of my fellow students, not until I read this...*holds back cuss* book. I finally swallowed my pride. I learned two things, and mostly only these two. One: I will never go by the nickname Sunny anymore. Two: I could have saved myself three and a half hours of my life by just picking up the phone to talk to three po'dunk uncles and one naval grandfather.
As time plods on, I hate this book more and more. Enough to finally hack the two star-pity rating that has been lingering here, oh so pathetically. Hi...moreAs time plods on, I hate this book more and more. Enough to finally hack the two star-pity rating that has been lingering here, oh so pathetically. His 'dear little reader' approach was, and still is, sickening. Any book I have come across as that sort has been the abomination of my shelves. Probably why I sing Hans Christian Anderson's praises when I talk about children's lit origins. Plucky son of a gun, he started it all, didn't he? The adults inability not to smile knowingly when their child comes across a book they once loved, and find through their kid, that they still love.
This loathsome little dent in my shelves brings up none of that fondness I have found to be void in my life lately, for books anyway (I'll fix that rightly this month, seeing as my job requires fewer hours now). I first picked it up on a aquaintance's insistance, that it was quote unquote 'the best damn book they ever did read.' The statement in all it's grammatical glory did make me a little anxious about it, but I went ahead with it.
And since I love a good yarn with a waify urchin in it, I will never stop kicking myself for letting this book degrade my library card (I swear, there was a little black mark, about the size of two commas in a row after I checked it out).
So, Coelho needs to go back to school, or at least, find a different calling. Answer that phone, 'cause it's God on the other line (I am so going to hell for including God in a rant review on Good Friday) and ask what it was that you were really supposed to be doing instead of writing (less)
If Romeo and Juliet was a piece of modern literature, it would have been an epic fail in my book (sad to say that there are books that sound like this...moreIf Romeo and Juliet was a piece of modern literature, it would have been an epic fail in my book (sad to say that there are books that sound like this published last year! Eeek!). But the timeless language of Shakespeare can only be condoned by a brave reader, which was not I, but this novel/play encouraged me to read the romance I was afraid of. Not the swooning maiden on the cover wrapped in the arms of a buffish, half-naked man kind of romance though, true romance that comes from the heart of an experianced writer (Du Maurier, Sparks). I didn't understand it, and shied away from it. Shakespeare and many other authors that I cannot remember the names of at this moment have shown me that romance does not have to be stupid, it can always be thrilling and kick ass! But since suicide is not my thing, I'll be happy to throw some dirt on my lover's grave and weep for a few years. (less)
Never snub the sister with curly hair, or she will burn your laptop and any printed manuscripts she can find.
Get past the fact that you wouldn't res...more Never snub the sister with curly hair, or she will burn your laptop and any printed manuscripts she can find.
Get past the fact that you wouldn't resist from making gagging noises if you had to hold a conversation with the earthly angel, Beth.
Always go for the distinguished gentleman that molds into you the best. All right for gray hairs!
Little Women is just one of those books that I learned a LOT from, and it has stayed with me without fuss since the fifth grade. The characters offer a wise spanse of personality to contend with, and relate to (as readers we will not, and can not, admit to wanting to come across characters like ourselves). I am on the same page as Jo. I rebel in the larger things though, like self-government (something some officals should follow up on). And yes, I also tend to go for the older guys, but when it comes to books and the fights that Jo/Me gets into with Amy/Meg(my sister), we should have been twins. And the most enchanting part of it all? Alcott was Jo, hair-chopping and all.(less)
At first I was a bit skeptical about this author because I started with her second book, The Mermaid Chair. That one was a big disappointment to me, w...moreAt first I was a bit skeptical about this author because I started with her second book, The Mermaid Chair. That one was a big disappointment to me, why it was I do not remember at the moment. But I know it was nothing like The Secret Life of Bees. This book was really amazing to me, and there are not that many books these days that truly inspire me to look closer at people and the hardships that they might be going through. The story of Lily Owens captured my heart. The fact that she was certain her mother had not abandoned her and the hope she carried in her heart was so real, so vivid, I could feel it. Even though I am miles away from the author herself, I feel even more attatched to the south and the tales it has to tell. Brilliant and radiant, The Secret Life of Bees will be a winner with anyone, maybe even your husband!(less)
Should be shelved under: to-burn-with-delight. But ever so rarely does an author get his/her own mock shelf. Nabokov and his twisted mental mechanism...more Should be shelved under: to-burn-with-delight. But ever so rarely does an author get his/her own mock shelf. Nabokov and his twisted mental mechanism are no different to me. Frighteningly, he was on the verge of four stars. Four! the utter lawlessness of it all! Good thing my morals put a damper on my excitement over an author who really could wield his pen when it came to flowery words. Took advantage of my doting on the Thesarus he did, the scoundrel. It was a pedeophile profile well done, but it was again, a lot of things. Perhaps the reason why I barely made it to the end was my immortal soul. It's a good reason to stop reading if something of yours is at stake here, or at least a good excuse (who am I to say I will or won't go anywhere when I kick it? though that is another matter entirely).
"Nymphet I could coach in French, and fondle in Humbertish." There is nothing I quite like so well as a psychopath who is full of himself in a quickly crumbling situation. They know themselves not to be on steady ground, but they endevour to imagine it. That must have been what was so odiously endearing about little hairy Humby. His sheer love of himself (or as far as I could find anyway). I was more than a tad doleful as I recognized the enjoyment I was getting out of his scapades throughout Lolita. I was thinking a lot about lines though. Crossing them mostly, in leaps and bounds when it came to literature. There is not much that people are sensitive about (to be perfectly polite), but don't you dare mess with their hardcore form of entertainment. Let alone create a new stem of gossip for the tongue-waggers. I spent hours going over essays that I had found about Lolita before I actually worked up the guts to pick it up. Reading through other's eyes I had been getting a grossly misinterpreted filter of the book. A how-to guide in seducing children, indeed! Trying to find out this accusation will constiute another round with the devil, I suppose.
In all honesty, I have no idea why I picked up this supposedly "super-nova" read. There was something about green eyes when I flipped through it, and...moreIn all honesty, I have no idea why I picked up this supposedly "super-nova" read. There was something about green eyes when I flipped through it, and that was about all of it, I do believe.
Oh well....one more star for at least trying to write a novel to live up to it's plot. (less)
At first there was not much to say, except, why on earth did I give this thing four stars in the first place? Mouse must have slipped, electronics the...moreAt first there was not much to say, except, why on earth did I give this thing four stars in the first place? Mouse must have slipped, electronics these days. And it would have gotten listed underneath killers, but it was really the human's fault, making himself look so tasty by showing off his stamina. It really does count what you shove down your gullet. I felt comforted knowing the mamaw dinosaur raised her babies right.
But, you can't always be too choosy. I obviously was not.(less)