During a recent PD lunch with friends, I mentioned that I was reading this book. I spoke a little about the book -- An outwardly popular and successful couple livin' in the burbs whose lives crumble horribly when they realize that their lives (as individuals, as a couple, as parents) aren't extraordinary, that, in fact, they're dull, unfulfilled, and false. One of my friends commented that she disliked books in which the characters or the situations made her feel awkwardly or psychologically uncomfortable. I agreed. But, later, as I continued reading Yates' book, I realized that don't dislike that feeling. Nope, not at all. In fact, it's quite the contrary -- I actually LOVE that uncomfortable feeling! And, many of the books that I've loved best have made me uncomfortable. The best popular example that gives off this feeling that I can think of right now is the play/movie Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? The characters in Virginia, as well as Revolutionary Road, are passionate, flawed, desperate, selfish, mean, illogical, vulnerable. And, the thing is you want to look away from them, you want to feel different from them, you want to hate them. But, unfortunately, you can't because, at some level, you can relate to them and their neuroses, you see a bit of yourself in them. Hopefully, you get what I mean. And, if you do and you like what I'm talking about, then Revolutionary Road is a good read for you. ]]>
The Gist:
After his friend Michael commits suicide, Charlie, a typical angst-ridden teen, begins writing very intimate, very therapeutic, letters to an anonymous person only addressed in the salutation as "Dear Friend". With each letter, Charlie begins to realize that after almost a lifetime of isolation it is possible to "participate" in life.
Side Note:
This is an MTV advertised, hipster novel so it is edgier than I've lead on here in this review. And, yes, it's target audience in the YA (young adult). But who isn't young at heart?
Bottom Line:
It's a great, quick read, reminiscent, at times, of My So-Called Life. If you liked the show and you like poignant, emo coming of age tales, this is a definite must read. ]]>
I'm Down definitely has it's laugh-out-loud moments, especially early on. In fact, had Wolff's book had been written in the 1970's, it might have been made into a sitcom -- probably in the genre of Welcome Back Kotter, Good Times, What's Happening!, etc. but with a dash of Roseanne (or any other working class white family sitcom/drama) Yeah, it is that funny at times but then there's that, you know, stereotyping stuff. Hmm. But, luckily, there's more than that too -- real pain and sadness juxtaposed with self-discovery and hope. My grade = B/B- ]]>
I've not ever not liked a Sarah Vowell book. In fact, I think it's physically impossible to not like her writings. I mean, come on, how could anyone not find her to be a wickedly entertaining, keenly observant, dry humored, gifted writer of history, art, and pop culture? Okay, okay. So I have a little bit of a Sarah Vowell obsession. But, it's only because I just know if we were to meet in real life we would be B.F.F. Yes, B.F.F. & E. Seriously!
Anyway, S.V. obsession aside, Assassination Vacation is another great Vowell book. In Vacation, Vowell writes, with the aforementioned qualities, about the assassinations of presidents Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley. While I've never been a big fan of presidential history (one can only read so many white-European male centered presidential stories before they all start sounding alike) - there are many writers out there, Vowell included, that have made an otherwise boring, narrow P.O.V. history exponentially more interesting and accessible. Bottom Line? Read the book, learn something new, and be entertained while you do it. ]]>
Sebold's memoir begins where the story does, the night of her rape. Her words, like the rapist's actions, are powerful, graphic, and violent. Yet, the rape is only the beginning of the story – the introduction. The rest of the book is spent dealing with the aftermath of rape and trying to find a way to recover.
So, what to make of this book? Well, it ain't no Bones. The writing style is drastically different. Where as Bones drew you in and filled you with emotion and a sense of optimism Lucky was detached, devoid of emotion, and, surprisingly, dull. Okay, so I'm not well read in the rape-memoir genre. And, yes, I realize it’s a grim subject. But, if you really want to read a rape survivor’s memoir, I suspect that there are much better ones out there. ]]>
Christine
took the never-ending book quiz.
| questions answered: | 73 |
| correct: | 47 (64.4%) |
| skipped: | 23 |
| best streak: | 7 |
| questions added: | 0 |
Through the book's narrator, Yunior, we are introduced to Oscar, an affable urban DR variation of Ignatius J. Reilly (The Confederacy of Dunces). Yunior, who is also a character in Drown, becomes a sort of keeper of Oscar, both during and after his life. An eventual friend whose devotion to Oscar is evident in the care that he takes in describing him, exposing him, explaining him, remembering him. And while Oscar's life is mostly a solitary one, his story is not. It weaves in and out, layer upon layer, from New Jersey to the DR and back and forth again, connecting him to his family, his friends, and, ultimately, his history -- the ancestral fuku ("the curse") -- that continues to haunt Oscar and the other characters in the story.
The book is an amazing piece of fiction yet it also informs us about the complexities of iintimacy, dentity, homeland, and oppression. Because of this, it's hard not to get quickly absorbed into Oscar's world and feel compelled by Diaz's rich characters and their stories. No wonder this book won both the highly coveted Pulitzer Prize for fiction and the National Book Critics Circle Award. ]]>
by Jeffrey Eugenides
It's been awhile since I read this but I remember really liking it -- like at least a 4. Why only a 3? Just curious. ]]>
by Junot Díaz
yeah, i've had this one to read for awhile now. glad to hear the oscar was good -- same situation there too. ]]>