Books I Loathed discussion
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Maytrees
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I haven't read the book, but loved your commentary! By your description, this book reminds me of what I call Coach Syndrome... someone convinced that they are required to use enigmatic sayings to drive home a simple lesson (usually about teamwork or some other bullshit). Seems to be the plot of every movie involving a teacher/student relationship these days. Yawn!
I love Annie Dillard. Love her. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is one of my all-time favorite books. But I agree with you here. When the Maytrees came out, I ran to the store and bought it. And then sat there, bewildered, as I struggled to read it, struggled to care for the characters, and finally just gave up. I think that in this book, Dillard paid too much attention to her writing, which ended up getting in the way of what would have been an interesting story.
Perhaps I will try another work by Annie Dillard, then. This was my first. A bad introduction, apparently!
You really think this would have been an interesting story? Sorry, it just didn't seem that way to me. It felt too forced, plot-wise, and waaay too "writerly". I don't mind spare writing, or quiet books, but this seemed more done as an exercise rather than as a natural outgrowth of the book. I wondered at all the good reviews and then thought, they're reviewing the entire reputation, not this one book. At least, that's all I could come up with.
Books I Loathed
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My Immortal (other topics)A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier (other topics)
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"Why surprise?" "Is all fair?" "Is love blind?" "Why sadder but wiser?" "What else could wisdom be?" These are some of Annie Dillard's profound questions in Maytrees. Here are some of mine: What is pomposity? Why care? Are big words better than more appropriate small words? Whither quotation marks? Will you ever stop asking short, choppy questions and tell a readable story?
While I recognized a few short flashes of genius in the writing (some touches of real beauty, occasional moments of poetry, and select insights into human life), I could not complete it. I might not have minded how pretentious the book was if only it weren't so boring, if only I had been made to care even slightly about the characters. The characters, however, seem to float about the story like disembodies souls.
I'm not averse to a diverse vocabulary, but some words seemed to be selected solely for their "look at this big word I'm using" value. Then there is the author's refusal to use quotation marks for dialogue, which were invented for a very good purpose: they allow readers to easily judge when speech begins and ends, so that dialogue never appears to flow into narration. Insisting on nonconformity in this matter only punishes the reader in exchange for what—a little self-satisfaction for the author who is presumably bucking the system? The book begins as what looks to be a love story, and then the protagonist, who seemed a decent man, suddenly abandons his wife for no good reason. We do not see the deterioration of the marriage: we just see the abrupt move. Everything seems aimed at an appearance of profundity; but too often, it is just that: an appearance.
The book has a gentle, sad tone; I'm sure it requires a great deal of talent to sustain this mood throughout, but I just don't like the book. Chalk it up to pure personal preference. The vague bleakness of it all…it just makes me YAWN.