Shannon's review

Still Life with Woodpecker
by Tom Robbins

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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/294190.Still_Life_with_Woodpecker?utm_medium=api&amp;utm_source=blog_review" style="float: left; padding-right: 20px"><img alt="Still Life with Woodpecker" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173470625m/294190.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/294190.Still_Life_with_Woodpecker?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_review">Still Life with Woodpecker</a> by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/197.Tom_Robbins">Tom Robbins</a> 
 <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/8135016?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_review"><h3>My review</h3></a>
 rating: 3 of 5 stars Leigh-Cherie, exiled princess of the Furstenberg-Barcalonas now living under the eye of the CIA oustide of Seattle while their homeland is fighting American interference, has given up on a lot of things in life, but she still thinks the duty of a princess is to set a royal example and be involved. The upcoming Care Fest in Hawaii gets her all excited, and with the old servant Gulietta, she flies to Maui with every intention of hearing Ralph Nader speak and learn about contraceptives - since they aren't working for her, and she should know after one abortion and one miscarriage (all this and she's just 19).
 
 On the plane with her, heading to Maui with 20 sticks of dynamite strapped to him, is Bernard Mickey Wrangle, the "Woodpecker": escaped convict, bomber, rebel and outlaw. And, most important, a fellow redhead. Who manages to fail at blowing up the hotel where the Care Fest is being staged - mostly because he mistook the UFO convention, held the day before the main event, for his real target, and also because the damn hotel is sturdier than it looks. Gulietta, however, saw him placing the dynamite, and when she sees him on the beach the next day and tells Leigh-Cherie, the princess tries to put him under citizen's arrest.
 
 So starts a love affair that's surprisingly sweet and genuine within a novel that's almost a farce. The blurb, if you should read it, makes absolutely no sense until after you've finished reading the book, and is very off-putting. I don't even know where to start in describing what this book is about. What I will say is that it has a very, very rocky start. I didn't get into it - I wasn't at all interested - until the Woodpecker is introduced. This character is surprisingly enigmatic (surprising because the initial description of him is not very flattering), and while I don't agree with everything he spouts - and, having been raised by a philosopher, he has lots to say about everything - he does have a pretty trippy brain.
 
 I want to hate this book. I want to hate it because Tom Robbins pisses me off so much (and this is one of those books that can't be separated from its author - if you want one you have to take the other). I read Even Cowgirls Get the Blues when I was a teenager and while I liked his Douglas Adams' style humour, I didn't care for his handling of women or the fact that he doesn't shut up. Literally. It's the same here. Let's face it: Tom Robbins loves the sound of his own voice. He even quotes himself! All tongue-in-cheek, of course, but that's no excuse. He can be funny, but not ironic. He's not subtle enough for irony. And while a lot of his concepts are quite abstract and often surreal, it's in the characters and their relationships with each other that Robbins finds his anchor, and make the book really interesting - see, it's in the simple things. I loved Leigh-Cherie and Bernard, I wanted things to work out with them. So I don't hate this book. Not at all. But unless you already like Robbins' style, or you love Douglas Adams but always wished he would prattle on about things that don't interest you, I won't recommend this.
 
 The only other thing I want to say about why this book bugged me, is that Robbins cries Wolf constantly. Either let everything be made up, or nothing. I like to learn things from the books I read, but to do that I need to know the author is reliable. Robbins is far from it. Half the time I think he's hoping I will believe him, and then make a fool of myself by passing off one of his silly "facts" as, well, a fact. For example, while Lord Sandwich has been credited with the invention of the sandwich, popcorn was not invented by the Earl of Popcorn. Nice try. 
 
 This is a very quotable book, but the quotable parts are also very pat. What I mean is, they are too quotable. If you read them again, and once more again, you notice that it sounds great, but doesn't always hold up to closer scrutiny. Or is too dismissive. While this book is set in the 80s (how else would someone manage to repeatedly get on a plane with dynamite strapped to them?), it's surprisingly relevant. It reminds me that, really, not a whole lot has changed in the last several decades - or longer - and we really aren't all that original as a species. No matter how many theories we can come up with about the origins of redheads and what a pyramid signifies.
 
 That said, I like the idea of escaping into the world inside a pack of Camel cigarettes. 
 
 <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/395599?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_review">View all my reviews.</a>

Shannon's review
rating:

bookshelves: 2007, bookclub, contemporary-fiction
status: Read in October, 2007

Leigh-Cherie, exiled princess of the Furstenberg-Barcalonas now living under the eye of the CIA oustide of Seattle while their homeland is fighting American interference, has given up on a lot of things in life, but she still thinks the duty of a princess is to set a royal example and be involved. The upcoming Care Fest in Hawaii gets her all excited, and with the old servant Gulietta, she flies to Maui with every intention of hearing Ralph Nader speak and learn about contraceptives - since they aren't working for her, and she should know after one abortion and one miscarriage (all this and she's just 19).

On the plane with her, heading to Maui with 20 sticks of dynamite strapped to him, is Bernard Mickey Wrangle, the "Woodpecker": escaped convict, bomber, rebel and outlaw. And, most important, a fellow redhead. Who manages to fail at blowing up the hotel where the Care Fest is being staged - mostly because he mistook the UFO convention, held the day before the main event,...more Leigh-Cherie, exiled princess of the Furstenberg-Barcalonas now living under the eye of the CIA oustide of Seattle while their homeland is fighting American interference, has given up on a lot of things in life, but she still thinks the duty of a princess is to set a royal example and be involved. The upcoming Care Fest in Hawaii gets her all excited, and with the old servant Gulietta, she flies to Maui with every intention of hearing Ralph Nader speak and learn about contraceptives - since they aren't working for her, and she should know after one abortion and one miscarriage (all this and she's just 19).

On the plane with her, heading to Maui with 20 sticks of dynamite strapped to him, is Bernard Mickey Wrangle, the "Woodpecker": escaped convict, bomber, rebel and outlaw. And, most important, a fellow redhead. Who manages to fail at blowing up the hotel where the Care Fest is being staged - mostly because he mistook the UFO convention, held the day before the main event, for his real target, and also because the damn hotel is sturdier than it looks. Gulietta, however, saw him placing the dynamite, and when she sees him on the beach the next day and tells Leigh-Cherie, the princess tries to put him under citizen's arrest.

So starts a love affair that's surprisingly sweet and genuine within a novel that's almost a farce. The blurb, if you should read it, makes absolutely no sense until after you've finished reading the book, and is very off-putting. I don't even know where to start in describing what this book is about. What I will say is that it has a very, very rocky start. I didn't get into it - I wasn't at all interested - until the Woodpecker is introduced. This character is surprisingly enigmatic (surprising because the initial description of him is not very flattering), and while I don't agree with everything he spouts - and, having been raised by a philosopher, he has lots to say about everything - he does have a pretty trippy brain.

I want to hate this book. I want to hate it because Tom Robbins pisses me off so much (and this is one of those books that can't be separated from its author - if you want one you have to take the other). I read Even Cowgirls Get the Blues when I was a teenager and while I liked his Douglas Adams' style humour, I didn't care for his handling of women or the fact that he doesn't shut up. Literally. It's the same here. Let's face it: Tom Robbins loves the sound of his own voice. He even quotes himself! All tongue-in-cheek, of course, but that's no excuse. He can be funny, but not ironic. He's not subtle enough for irony. And while a lot of his concepts are quite abstract and often surreal, it's in the characters and their relationships with each other that Robbins finds his anchor, and make the book really interesting - see, it's in the simple things. I loved Leigh-Cherie and Bernard, I wanted things to work out with them. So I don't hate this book. Not at all. But unless you already like Robbins' style, or you love Douglas Adams but always wished he would prattle on about things that don't interest you, I won't recommend this.

The only other thing I want to say about why this book bugged me, is that Robbins cries Wolf constantly. Either let everything be made up, or nothing. I like to learn things from the books I read, but to do that I need to know the author is reliable. Robbins is far from it. Half the time I think he's hoping I will believe him, and then make a fool of myself by passing off one of his silly "facts" as, well, a fact. For example, while Lord Sandwich has been credited with the invention of the sandwich, popcorn was not invented by the Earl of Popcorn. Nice try.

This is a very quotable book, but the quotable parts are also very pat. What I mean is, they are too quotable. If you read them again, and once more again, you notice that it sounds great, but doesn't always hold up to closer scrutiny. Or is too dismissive. While this book is set in the 80s (how else would someone manage to repeatedly get on a plane with dynamite strapped to them?), it's surprisingly relevant. It reminds me that, really, not a whole lot has changed in the last several decades - or longer - and we really aren't all that original as a species. No matter how many theories we can come up with about the origins of redheads and what a pyramid signifies.

That said, I like the idea of escaping into the world inside a pack of Camel cigarettes.
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message 1: by Arulien

06/28/2008 06:45AM

I've read a lot of Tom Robbins myself, and agree with almost everything you said, especially his penchant toward misogyny, which definitely bothers me. However, I really enjoy his books, for many of the reasons you didn't. I guess for some of us, being ranted at by a semi lunatic mind (he did a lot of psilocybin mushrooms with Terrence McKenna) can be very pleasurable. Perhaps it's the Dadaist in me.