You know when you're lying in the tub and your hair is floating around you all soft and mermaidy? And if you're old like me the loose skin of your fac...moreYou know when you're lying in the tub and your hair is floating around you all soft and mermaidy? And if you're old like me the loose skin of your face and breasts and earlobes gets all misshapen when you submerge and re-emerge? Well, this is the same thing, except with crazy, overexcited dogs who are not self-conscious at all, who don't mind someone taking their picture while they frolic. Some look angelic and some look monstrous and mostly they just look like lunatics.
I got this for my son for Christmas and the photographs are so comical and also beautiful. Great idea. I should go snap up some more copies because this is a good gift for anyone who likes dogs. (less)
John Banville is one of my favorite writers, a leaning reinforced by his historical novel Kepler, about the 17th century mathematician & astronome...moreJohn Banville is one of my favorite writers, a leaning reinforced by his historical novel Kepler, about the 17th century mathematician & astronomer Johannes Kepler. Math and astronomy are not among my usual haunts, but Banville writes so well and so precisely, he can infuse anything with interest. Part of the strength of his writing is his talent for choosing the right word. It doesn’t have to be a big $10 word, it might just be two somewhat usual words put together unexpectedly.
“Looking now afresh at the form of this little book, I am struck by the thought that perhaps, without realising it, I had some intimation of the troubles to come, for certainly it is a strange work, uncommonly severe and muted, wintry in tone...”
His writing sometimes reminds me of the poetry of Lucie Brock-Broido, who embroiders amazing sentences and syntaxes, as in the poem “Death as a German Expert,” from which I include here an excerpt just for interest:
** . . . Always the dead will be lined as sad And crookedly as fingerling potatoes in root-cellars dank enough For overwintering. In Luckenwalde a young girl slides a needle
In the turnip-purple soft fold of her inner arm and this, too, Transfigures a kind of joy. **
Kepler the novel is above all a book about intellectual striving. Kepler believed man was made in God’s image, and thus should be able to understand the universe God created, and he tries so hard it puts all of us to shame.
It is amazing that anyone could figure out the laws of planetary motion just by observing the sky through a telescope, especially someone like Kepler who spends adulthood hounded by religious persecution and besides that seems to be feeling ill most of the time. Poor guy. I liked him, but not too much.
There are other interesting if somewhat flat characters, like Kepler’s potion-mixing mother, his dimwit brother, a dwarf, a Jewish lens maker, astronomers, emperors, and of course the female interests - Barbara, Regina and Susanna. (less)
At 91 pages I gave up. How can one go through 25% of a book and provide no discernible hook? Just a bunch of minor characters coming and going and no...moreAt 91 pages I gave up. How can one go through 25% of a book and provide no discernible hook? Just a bunch of minor characters coming and going and no compelling plot. Maybe it starts on page 92, but I've got other things to do. I have loved a number of Ondaatje's books, but in this even his prose couldn't keep me going. The writing wasn't bad but was under par for this author. Maybe it's one of those self-indulgent this-happened-to-me-and-now-that-I'm-famous-I'm-free-to-bore-my-readers-with-it books. Hey, great cover, though.(less)
It is a commitment to read a horror book that stretches out to nearly 900 pages, and I admit that if the plot didn’t share many similarities to childr...moreIt is a commitment to read a horror book that stretches out to nearly 900 pages, and I admit that if the plot didn’t share many similarities to children building a fort, I might have given up. The first time was when I got the inkling that the book was about vampires, or something like vampires, which hadn’t been clear - I thought it was a post-apocalyptic journey story. Still, vampires aren’t all camp all the time, and the set-up to the story in the first couple hundred pages was very strong, so I continued.
Bit a serious wavering point came with this sentence: "The grenade went off, taking out the front of the Chalet, but Richards heard this only vaguely - the noise receding, fading to some impossible distance - as he experienced the sensation, utterly new to him, of being torn in half." (p. 241)
I had a "vague" problem with that sentence. Wouldn’t the feeling of being torn in half be "new" to most people, not just to Richards? And not just new but "utterly new," as in, gee, I've never even come close to being torn into two pieces before. For it not to be new, you'd have to have survived being ripped in half once before. Show me such a person, and I will give this sentence my blessing.
Though death is everywhere, its novelty remains an irresistible subject. After a bad guy dies in the last third of the book, there’s this: “... he dropped to his knees, flopping forward, his face frozen in an expression of eternal wonderment, as if to say: I can’t believe I’m dead.” (p. 681)
Besides the ridiculous reading of the expression, I’d be a little more careful with the “eternal wonderment” myself. It won’t last forever.
Elsewhere, there should be a limit to how many close calls any one scene should have. It dilutes the excitement if you’ve got major characters almost dying repeatedly in one scene. I guess it has something to do with climax? Like having three climaxes to one scene makes you wonder if the author doubts the effectiveness of his writing? Not to mention then bringing some back to life. Oh, and on the flip side, you shouldn’t leave a major character for dead more than once, only to resurrect him, as in “look, this guy is toast, oh but wait, he’s not.” Wait 200 pages. Then “look, this same guy is toast, oh but wait, no he’s not.” Wait 200 pages. Then “look, this same poor guy...” etc.
Anyway, I won’t disparage the book too much. It was very entertaining, involving, and it even had some poignant moments. Thanks to this book there were a couple nights when I woke up and thought I’d go to the bathroom but decided I didn’t need to feel my way down the dark hallway without military chaperone. But if I had known that the author would end in a way that makes it necessary to read the sequel (it’s a trilogy) to know what’s happening, I never would have ventured in. This is a purely commercial trick, showing a shocking lack of integrity. I won’t be reading the sequel. (less)
I enjoy Billy Collins, but despite the airplane on the cover of this, the poems in this collection never really took off for me. The poems lack turn,...moreI enjoy Billy Collins, but despite the airplane on the cover of this, the poems in this collection never really took off for me. The poems lack turn, they seem often to lack purpose. And sometimes they go on too long. The title poem, for example, is amusing and there's the promise that the writer might tie it up and make a point, but it just keeps meandering. Here it is online: http://www.pen.org/viewmedia.php/prmM...
The poem "Feedback" was just plain gratuitous, like the poet laughing at his own joke and not really minding that no one else will find it particularly funny.
My favorite poem was the opening one, "Grave," in which the poet visits his parents' grave and has a conversation with them, sort of: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/a...
I also liked the short, "My Hero," about a tortoise.
I appreciate Billy Collins - he has a sure touch, and I've have learned from reading his poems. I never looked to him for gravitas, but he seems yet lighter in this volume.
I was handed one of these for free at a book fair and if it's not already obvious I would like to point out that it's a complete waste of paper. "Free...moreI was handed one of these for free at a book fair and if it's not already obvious I would like to point out that it's a complete waste of paper. "Free books I don't need or even want" = first world problem.(less)
Saw a used copy of this for sale in a thrift store, and the grubby, moth-ridden atmosphere seemed the perfect place to speed-read through this crazy b...moreSaw a used copy of this for sale in a thrift store, and the grubby, moth-ridden atmosphere seemed the perfect place to speed-read through this crazy book. I don't recommend it, unless you find yourself in the same situation. (less)
I love Jessy Randall because she makes me laugh and because everything she says is true, whether it's about children, marriage, libraries or games. I...moreI love Jessy Randall because she makes me laugh and because everything she says is true, whether it's about children, marriage, libraries or games. I know it because I've felt the same way, as for instance, in "Celie at 4," in which the poet's child is like the cool girl at school rolling her eyes, and mother becomes the younger sister hoping to be liked. Or because I also know someone like the subject of "One Day, the Ass-Talker Stopped Talking Out of His Ass."
With some poems I get the feeling the poet starts the poem and just sees where it goes, and ends up with something surprising even to herself.
There are two found poems in this volume that I like a lot, especially "I Am Boarding You At This Time," and the list poem "Babies Should."
HHhH was terrific. It’s hard to recommend to just anyone because it’s best to be a little familiar with the figure of Reinhard Heydrich and his assass...moreHHhH was terrific. It’s hard to recommend to just anyone because it’s best to be a little familiar with the figure of Reinhard Heydrich and his assassination to appreciate the book. But even Wikipedia could equip a reader sufficiently.
As meta-fiction the author is very in the book, which pretty much goes ‘here’s this event I’ve been obsessed with my whole life, which happened in my favorite country on earth, and the two or three guys who are my heroes, who set off to kill Heydrich, the devil incarnate, and how they succeed, and it’s all worth it despite the horrendous consequences, and I’m going to try to tell the story while letting you know how extremely self-conscious I feel about it.’
The story is horrible and serious, but the narrator/author navigates you through with a light touch. Believe me, I loved the book, but that would be my one complaint - while most of the time it worked well, the author occasionally erred on the side of the flip.
It’s surely hard to find balance with the meta-fiction approach, but there were times I thought he hit the wrong note. Like he didn’t know when to stop talking. Most of the time the light touch was more a kind of vibrant buoyancy. Anyway, I’ve probably just turned any potential readers off to this book. Oh well, it was great and I’m happy to keep it all to myself anyway.(less)
This was a good, well-paced story, with some interesting characters. As an ex-pat with a life I never imagined (I don't mean that necessarily in a pos...moreThis was a good, well-paced story, with some interesting characters. As an ex-pat with a life I never imagined (I don't mean that necessarily in a positive way) and a lot of 'ifs,' it was interesting to me how the main character made peace with his life, which was as much about choices as about fate. At some points the telling was a bit slow, but there was a stretch of 10-12 pages in the run-up to the end that were sublime.
Funny enough, I read this this week while the Frankfurt book fair was on, and actually ran into Richard Ford at the fair (handsome!) two days before I finished. (less)
The best thing about this book, and all WWII books, is that WWII ends! It ends, and they string those evil mothers up from the lampposts and light the...moreThe best thing about this book, and all WWII books, is that WWII ends! It ends, and they string those evil mothers up from the lampposts and light their sorry asses on fire! I love that part.
This was an interesting book focusing on the 1942 assassination of Heydrich, a true monster. It is quite detaily and somewhat slow through the first half, but finally the parachutists land and the story aspect of this history gains speed and drama.
A good book for anyone with more than a passing interest in WWII. (less)
My chap from Hyacinth Girl Press. The poems center on household things - toothbrushes, toast, leaky faucets. Here's a segment of a prose poem selectio...moreMy chap from Hyacinth Girl Press. The poems center on household things - toothbrushes, toast, leaky faucets. Here's a segment of a prose poem selection on wine:
Eauvain Beaujolais A round young wine that can’t concentrate. Elastic body with an acrobatic, almost chewable bosom. The finish evokes mink, kerosene and low satire. Toothsome and juked up with pepper, this Beaujolais is two-thirds woodsmoke, one-third brioche. Can easily be paired with Chopin or Satie, but does not mix well with Dutch conductors.
Maison Langue Merlot Unbuttons the tongue. The bouquet includes the calls of wild animals, far off, fur bristling with an electric zip of rubies. Fruit falls from the trees. Violets tremble at the edge of the glass. Accompany with a plump cigar and anything by Balzac. Best served by the goblet.
Coetzee is a superior writer but the first 2/3s of this were surprisingly dull. As always, interesting concept and promise. Recommended for true Coetz...moreCoetzee is a superior writer but the first 2/3s of this were surprisingly dull. As always, interesting concept and promise. Recommended for true Coetzee fans.(less)
I read this this afternoon in the bookshop and enjoyed it a lot. The book works its way down in the number of lines to ever shorter poems, from 13 lin...moreI read this this afternoon in the bookshop and enjoyed it a lot. The book works its way down in the number of lines to ever shorter poems, from 13 lines to none (just a title), and I must say that things improved as they went along.
Many of these poems were well-worn ground, but there were surprises and discoveries, also from well-known poets, Sylvia Plath’s “The Hanging Man,” for example, which I can’t say I’ve read before. I also liked Glyn Maxwell’s “Lust,” Douglas Dunn’s “On Roofs of Terry Street,” Louis Macneice’s “The Brandy Glass,” and Edwin Morgan’s “Siesta of a Hungarian Snake.” I was also happy to find Medbh McGuckian’s gorgeous “Captain Lavender,” which I’ve loved for years. She is out of this world.
On the could-have-done-without-it side, if I have to read Wm. Carlos Williams’ “This is Just to Say” ever again I will literally scream. I promise.
A number of poets had more than one poem, including Stevie Smith, James Tate, and Robert Frost. Very anglo, too, now that I think of it, though there was a (very good) Tomas Salamun poem, too.
My one quibble is the book bills itself as a collection of “very short” poems, but 12-13 lines to me is not very short. Very short starts at about seven lines, in my opinion. And the lines of some of the 12-line poems were also so long that they wrapped. (Lost a star for this quibble, book!)
This book is part of a Faber series that also includes a collection of humorous poems, one of easy-to-memorize poems (?), and another called “Sounds Good,” which I can only guess gathers sonically-pleasing poems.
I didn’t buy it, but I almost did, and left the shop convinced I must finally get a collection of Sappho....
Reading Little Dorrit is like having your own portable fireplace to cozy up to. It’s also huge, like a log or a brick. At 1,000 pages, if you set it o...moreReading Little Dorrit is like having your own portable fireplace to cozy up to. It’s also huge, like a log or a brick. At 1,000 pages, if you set it on fire, it would burn for a long time. But I don’t mean it that way. I mean reading Little Dorrit makes you want to take off your shoes, don your housecoat and lean way the hell over the open pages, soaking up all that homey tenderness.
Reading Little Dorrit is like suffering the ritual of birthday cake. It’s also enormous like cake is enormous, heavy and sticky like children’s fingers. But with the ritual I mean watching the cake float towards you in the dark, luminous with spindly candles. You want to lean way the hell over it and, soaking up the glow, make your best wish, blow, and collapse into all that icing.
Reading Little Dorrit is like being dragged off by your parents to a revival festival teeming with tents and strange people. By dragged I mean you used to like going but now think you’re too old for it. You wander around -it’s on the edge of a forest- and you like the smell of the pines and campfires but you stick to the parking lot where some other characters share their six-packs, and there’s a puddle of rain and spew and you lean way the hell over it and see your reflection.(less)
I expected this to be dull, and embraced it with the gratitude the reader feels when the book turns out not to be dull at all. There were many element...moreI expected this to be dull, and embraced it with the gratitude the reader feels when the book turns out not to be dull at all. There were many elements I liked, beginning with the rare first-person omniscient point of view, making this a ‘fictitious autobiography.’ Usually you have to be dead (as in The Lovely Bones) or death itself (as in The Book Thief) to pull that pov off. There are parts of the book with input and letters from other characters, and there are parts which really seem to be in the third person, and may be, but then and again an ‘I’ is slipped in and the deal is revealed. Just look at the first page.
Basically this is the life story of Daisy Goodwill, orphaned at birth, and a story about the lonesomeness at the core of life. Despite the cast of characters, the encounters and reference points, and the collective experience of history and culture as it goes by (the Lindbergh flight, the Kennedy assassination, WWII, Johnny Carson, etc, not necessarily in that order), you get the feeling life has happened to the protagonist, as it happens to everyone, with little or scant navigation. What I found touching near the end was how seeing her name on the hospital bracelet, minus the married name, gave Daisy a sense of purity.
The loneliness for me is embodied best by Daisy’s mother’s wedding ring, which should have some day landed in her hands, but is buried in her father’s backyard project, a muddled pyramid. As you can guess from the title, stone is a major motif in the book, hard and intact.
I loved the structure, too, the letters, the ‘versions,’ the family tree, and the photographs, which help you pretend this is a fiction that happened. Of course it could have happened. Of course it happens all the time.(less)
This was terrific. Cromwell gets ugly here, and that is somehow surprising, though it shouldn't be. I did prefer "Wolf Hall," but mostly because I was...moreThis was terrific. Cromwell gets ugly here, and that is somehow surprising, though it shouldn't be. I did prefer "Wolf Hall," but mostly because I was bowled over by the writing and the telling. That certainly continues here, but I took it somewhat for granted. Will I read the third one of the trilogy? Hard to say. It might be too painful watching it all play out. (less)
I really like Mary Ann Samyn. I like how she constructs her poems and the way she looks at things very intently. Some of her poems deal with language...moreI really like Mary Ann Samyn. I like how she constructs her poems and the way she looks at things very intently. Some of her poems deal with language itself, which isn’t something I usually go for but I think she handles it well, as in the exquisite first poem in the collection, “Beneath Speech” (link below). Her own word choices and diction are fairly vernacular, but her topics are intellectual. When I say she looks at things intently I don’t mean boys' behinds, dumpsters, or her neighbor's Camaro.
And now I will go off on a tangent.... about the PAGES. Aside from the black flyleaf in the front and back, the book has 96 pages (48 pp x 2 sides) of luxury paper - creamy and so heavy it would probably burn as long as "Little Dorrit," which is 12x as long. But what’s remarkable in "Purr" is a full 35 pages are absolutely blank. I don’t count the functional pages, like the dedication. There are 35 poems in total, most of which fit on one page, the notable exception being a poem that covers 5 pages. Apparently the white space is part of the concept - I guess it represents silence, or, more likely, pauses in thought. Personally I found it distracting.
On another note, I think blurbers should keep their feet on the ground. Is it helpful to say this book will “bring eyesight to the blind?” No, and I can hardly take it seriously.
Here’s "Beneath Speech" and "Wink," another poem I enjoyed:
Somewhere a while back I read "Whisper Beside Falling Bodies" and recently parts of the poems again entered my head. I didn't know who wrote it or eve...moreSomewhere a while back I read "Whisper Beside Falling Bodies" and recently parts of the poems again entered my head. I didn't know who wrote it or even the gist of the poem but with the help of google found this book and took a chance on ordering it. Happy I did. The poems are beautifully crafted, the language is rich and the poems glide into flight.
The poet was born in Colombia and grew up in Pittsburgh, two places you wouldn't expect to pair. They're both here, as are love and humor and death and pageant. My favorites are the shorter poems that take a leap.
This is an entertaining book, which doesn't mean it is a particularly worthwhile book, and I was surprised it was short-listed for the Booker prize. I...moreThis is an entertaining book, which doesn't mean it is a particularly worthwhile book, and I was surprised it was short-listed for the Booker prize. It doesn’t delve deeply into anyone’s mind. Despite the title, it doesn’t really explore any specific environment. Character development? Eh.... There were, as promised, about 45 pages of high suspense. Unfortunately they were sandwiched in by nearly 300 other pages of often implausible action, a slightly irritating voice, and some cutesy, supposedly unintentional jokes.
Who doesn’t know the story? A young woman is turned into a captive sex slave to some self-important slob in a sound-proof room, and bears a child. It seems to be a regular happening in Austria. Want to know what the captor does to her? Of course you do, but you should go to another book for that.
This is not a spoiler because it happens pretty early but if you’re easily deflowered plotwise, do not read further: The woman and her son escape less than halfway through, and the rest of the book deals with their adjustment to “Outside.” I found the handling of this weak. The during and the after are are handled shallowly, and characters do things that seem really off-base. Like, would your first outing with a child who’s never been exposed to outside society be to a mall? It just seems to serve the author as a MAJOR CONTRAST, and thus she goes for that, though no one would ever do it unless they were insane. We can’t judge whether the characters who do this are insane because they are not especially developed. They say things like “imagine growing up without Legos,” like that’s some unimaginable state. They walk around in their roles: brother, policeman, young cousin, caring doctor, grandmother, faceless slob criminal whose real name we don’t even know.
The voice irked me, too, and the capitalized nouns without articles. They live in Room, and so does Plant, and there’s Bed and Wardrobe and Roof and Lamp. I also didn’t like the supposed-to-be-enlightened-innocence of things like “idiots buy (lottery tickets) hoping to get magicked into millionaires.” The lottery seems like kind of a big concept to swallow for a 5-year old who’s lived in a room alone with his mother his whole life, much less to make a value judgement about it. Also later he’s sorry he didn’t give a beggar two quarters instead of one when he finds out the beggar lives on the street. Can this child really have a concept of money?
That all said, as soon as I finished it I passed it on to a friend in my office. I told her the truth: read this, you'll enjoy the story, but it’s no great shakes. (less)
These were okay, but I read them in German and some of them seemed pretty flat. Might be a language thing. I'd be more than happy to try again in Engl...moreThese were okay, but I read them in German and some of them seemed pretty flat. Might be a language thing. I'd be more than happy to try again in English.(less)
Wait, is this the same Emile Zola who wrote Germinal? Unlike that title, I found this to be repetitive, overly dramatic junk. Completely skippable. I...moreWait, is this the same Emile Zola who wrote Germinal? Unlike that title, I found this to be repetitive, overly dramatic junk. Completely skippable. I would have tossed it, but it was the only book I had with me on a long flight with a stopover.(less)
I admit I was never that into Frida Kahlo but she did have great taste in clothes. The photography in this book is rich and tactile, and the photograp...moreI admit I was never that into Frida Kahlo but she did have great taste in clothes. The photography in this book is rich and tactile, and the photographs of the clothes are often set beside an older photograph of Kahlo wearing the piece. If the body is an enormous, walking wound, she really knew how to bandage it. (less)
What strikes me about this book is the down-spiraling dynamic and the feeling no one's in control. As if there weren't even a narrator. The manic titl...moreWhat strikes me about this book is the down-spiraling dynamic and the feeling no one's in control. As if there weren't even a narrator. The manic title, "Wonderful Wonderful Times," with its exaggeration and sarcasm, heightens that impression. That said, the German title is the more sober "Die Ausgesperrten," which means 'the outsiders,' or 'those left out' or 'barred,' and is in part a reference to Camus' "The Stranger/Outsider," which is alluded to numerous times.
This was a sad and horrifying story, and makes me afraid to read other Jelinek books. Which I'd hoped to do. But which I now think may be more than necessary.
The story centers on four young people and the dynamic among them, and also within their families and society. There are Rainer and Anna, twins from a lower-class family whose father is a disgusting former SS officer (TRULY disgusting), and Hans, a worker with aspirations who takes up with them, and Sophie, an upper-class knock-out tennis skirt whom both Rainer and Hans lust after. In part through that desire, Sophie seems to control the group, and is also the most cold and uncaring. They are all tormented by the typical problems of youth, taken to grotesque dimensions by the times and place and in some cases their families.
I like Jelinek's writing style, which reminds me slightly of Herta Müller. I'm sure Müller learned from Jelinek (and surpassed her in some ways). Still, what is more terrifying - a screwed-up Austria or a screwed-up Rumania? Austria, that's certain.
Although I only gave this three stars, it's certainly a worthwhile read, if grueling in its pessimism. (less)
What this book needs is an explosive car chase. Either that, or an elusive virus that threatens to destroy mankind. As it is, it's basically reverie t...moreWhat this book needs is an explosive car chase. Either that, or an elusive virus that threatens to destroy mankind. As it is, it's basically reverie that takes every tangent thrown its way. The main character, Simon, is extremely endearing, yet doing himself in with his irresoluteness. His saving grace is his charm, which finds him shelter and good will. Beautifully written but largely devoid of plot. Mostly we learn what Simon thinks about everyone, his siblings, the sky, walking, women, a snowflake that falls on the loyal face of a horse. (less)
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