Insane City by Dave Barry
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Ridiculous. Utterly Ridiculous. Which is what it was going for, so good on Barry.
I didn’t think it was as satisfying a novel as his first two solo works, bu the further I got into it, and the more out of control the plot got, the more I warmed to it and the more I laughed.
The ending’s fairly predictable, but pretty satisfying — and funny.
Lots of laughs to be had
City of Dark Magic by Magnus Flyte
My rating: 2.5 of 5 stars
Doctoral candidate Sara Westen gets a summer job (that she didn’t apply for) in Prague to help a royal Czech family in the creation of a museum displaying the greatness of that family over the centuries, as they’ve recently been reunited with their treasures after the pillaging of the Nazis and Communists. Once there, she stumbles into international (as well as inter-chronological) intrigue, the mysterious apparent suicide of her mentor, and paranormal events of some order. Oh, and there’s sex, too. Can’t forget that, it’s part of the sales pitch.
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
On the one hand, this is well-written, clever, surprising, all the twists and turns you could ask for (and then some), a novel approach to time travel and supernatural-ish storytelling. The hero, Sarah Weston is great — the kind of strong women character you can relate to. The writing is brisk, and often amusing. The conclusion is wild, heart-warming, and not what anyone would expect. It’d almost seem worth reading just for the depiction of Beethoven and the way his music effects even people in the 21st century.
But it left me cold and apathetic. I had to force myself to push beyond page 100, and the only urgency I felt towards the finish was so I could move on to something else (although it was pleasant enough while reading, there was just nothing that kept me going). As amusing as I found some of the characters — the blind girl/musical savant, the impossible and very talented dwarf, a very American Czech prince, the gun-loving Asian from Texas, — I didn’t care about any of them. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the villain of the piece had twirled her moustache at some point. (yes, her moustache…I’d believe she’d have grown one just to twirl at appropriate moments).
And don’t get me wrong, I’m neither a prude nor the son of a prude, but the sex was a too graphic. It felt very incongruous to the rest of the book — especially the first “encounter” Weston had in Prague, which appears to be only semi-consensual for all involved. That really put me off, and I’m surprised two women writers would’ve included that and put it in even a slightly positive light.
Across the River and into the Trees by Ernest Hemingway
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
It’s like a December-May version of the movie Before Sunrise. Except instead of Ethan Hawke, you have a bitter ex-General (now Colonel) in the US Army with some sort of terminal cardiac condition. And instead of Julie Delpy, you have a young, selfish, stupid/naive girl (or at least one who acts stupid and naive). The relationship between the two is so skeevy that you can imagine that some reviewer came up with the word just to describe this. Okay, so it’s actually nothing like Before Sunrise in that it’s very talky and the couple spends the time bouncing around a European city.
There’s practically nothing redeeming about this novel — there are flashes of Hemingway’s brilliance. Occasionally — very occasionally — the couple’s dialogue is dynamite. The conversations the Colonel has with a portrait of the girl are almost completely superior and more interesting. You have sentences like
The Colonel breakfasted with the leisure of a fighter who has been clipped badly, hears four, and knows how to relax truly for five seconds more.
You can’t hate a book that contains things like that — as much as you might want to.
It’s books like this that make me wonder if I’m just not as savvy a reader as I think, that all the literature courses I took were a waste. This was just pointless — and not in an artistic, or even Seinfeld-esque manner. The conclusion was typical for Hemingway, and broadcast for about 90% of the book. And then you get the infuriating last line, which I’ll be honest, I don’t get. Was it supposed to be funny? Nihilistic? Something else? By this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to get it.
Flashes of brilliance like I said, but not enough to warrant the time or effort involved. Spare yourself.
Farewell, Dorothy Parker by Ellen Meister
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The main character of this novel, Violet Epps,a movie critic, begins a review stating:
There’s nothing I like better than a cheesy story done well. Then when it’s over I can cheer for the triumphant protagonist free of embarrassment
I hope it’s not too back-handed of a compliment to say that in many ways Violet described my take on this book.
That said, Ellen Meister was a whole lot more successful telling her story in my eyes, than the director of A Foundling’s Story was in Violet’s estimation. This was “[semi-]cheesy story done well.”
It’s pretty clear right away (if I couldn’t tell from the book jacket’s description or design) that this book isn’t my normal cup of tea — but you stick “Dorothy Parker” in the title of anything, and I’m going to give it a second (and probably a third and fourth) look. I’m not an expert on Parker, can’t even say I’ve read half of her extant material — but I really enjoy her poems, and what stories I’ve read are among the better short stories I’ve bothered with. And anyone who’s flipped through a collection of her best quips has to see the sharper mind behind that sharp tongue. This book was clearly as much a tribute to Parker as it was the story of Violet Epps, so I had to give it a try.
I enjoyed Meister’s version Parker — both in her more somber, reflective moments as well as her more humorous/witty moments. The relationship between Violet and her niece — the heart of the book — is great, and I’d really liked to see more of it. The romance was . . . well, that’s where the cheesy really came into things.
You don’t have to read too much of this book before you know exactly how it’s going to turn out (there’s a strong chance you’d be close after reading the book description alone). But that’s okay, because Meister’s execution and characters are strong enough to carry you along.
I laughed, I cheered (inwardly) at the moments of triumph at the end of the book, I enjoyed my time with Violet, her niece and the ghost of Dorothy Parker. I was also inspired to track down some of the resources Meister recommended about her muse — as well as to re-read some of Parker’s own work. I was entertained enough that even though she doesn’t seem to work in a genre I frequent, I’m inclined to track down more by Meister herself.
The Universe Versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
At some point (probably later than I should have) I realized 1. where the plot was leading; and 2. this was a novel with An Agenda, which the novel (and likely — but not necessarily — the author) wanted to you agree with. My reactions were: 1. Didn’t make me happy, and really wasn’t something I wanted to read, although I saw that it absolutely what the characters would do; and 2. Never gonna happen. So I had to make a decision: do I finish this or move on?
I went ahead and finished it (which, by the way, confirmed 1 & 2), and I think it was a worthwhile use of my reading time.
Alex Woods is a socially awkward child/teen, an epileptic who’d been struck by a meteor as a child (and achieved a degree of notoriety because of this). He’s figuring out his way in this world the best he can, with little guidance from his fortune-teller mother (and even then, it’s dubious guidance at best), he mostly relies on the scientist who helped him understand the meteor that struck him and his neurologist.
That is, until, he meets Mr. Peterson — an American widower, who moved to England following his service in the Vietnam War and now that he’s widowed has no intention of sticking around. From the moment he’s introduced, it’s clear that Mr. Peterson will become a fixture in Alex’s life. That the two will form an unlikely bond, and this will form the emotional core of the book. (this would be clear even if the book didn’t open with Alex entering the country with Mr. Peterson’s ashes on the car seat next to him)
One of the things Mr. Peterson does is introduce Alex to the works of Kurt Vonnegut. They discuss the books as Alex works his way through them, Mr. Peterson explaining things — both in the books and in life — for Alex’s overly literalistic way of looking at life.
The strength of this book is Alex’s voice and personality. You’re drawn to Alex, you want to understand the way he looks at life, you want to hear how he ends up in the dicey legal situation he finds himself in at the beginning of the novel. If not for his charm, his naiveté, his humor, this book would’ve ended up on my abandoned pile pretty quickly.
Obviously, this is evident throughout. The strongest example that I think of at this moment is Alex’s description of (and reaction to) being bullied is so close to the Platonic ideal, that it alone justifies at least half the time spent reading. The bullying characters, and the reactions on the part of the faculty/students of Alex’s school to his encounters with them were so spot-on, that if Extence wasn’t borrowing from his own life, his imagination is scarily correct.
The only two characters that didn’t quite work for me were Alex’s mother and his female friend from school*. Now, this is either because Alex is a teenage male and has a strange relationship with these two women (because they’re strange, he’s an adolescent male, and they’re women) or because Extence didn’t quite have the handle on them as characters as he did with the rest. I could go with either explanation — the latter seems unlikely, but it’s possible. In the long run, while I couldn’t understand either character as I wanted to, this didn’t detract enough from the book to spend much more time on the point than this. I do wish things had resulted in a clearer resolution between Alex and the schoolmate — if not a definite “they were X forever”, at least a trajectory suggesting something.
In the end, it was a pleasure to spend time in Alex’s company and hearing his take on how he grew up and started in his adult life, whatever my issues with the plot. It’s not the best book I’ve read in awhile, but I’ll keep my eye out for whatever Extence does next.
* Sorry, I’ve forgotten her name and returned the book to the library — and google’s not helping at all.
As I dust this one off, I can’t help but be disappointed in how brief this review was. It’s been too many years so I can’t augment this review much, but I remember laughing a lot and scribbling down quotations like crazy (don’t ask me where they are now, tho’).
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How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
hilarious, over the top (yet probably really tamer than reality) satire about the publishing industry and the selling/making of books. Not literature, but the stuff that people read (or at least by). Best satire I’ve read in a long while
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This was the fifth Hemingway novel I’ve read this year, and by far the most ambitious in length, scope, topic, and style. This classic follows Robert Jordan, American Spanish professor turned Republican Demolition officer in the Spanish Civil War as he leads a small guerrilla band to destroy a bridge that will play an important tactical role in an upcoming battle (as will its destruction). This classic has been analyzed, reviewed and studied far more intensely and deeply than I do around here, so I’ll stick to some general impressions/observations.
thanks to yesterday’s Final Jeopardy clue, a friend and I have been talking about this book. So, figured I’d throw this one up
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My rating: 1 of 5 stars
This has to be subtitled “Portrait of a Scumbag as a Young Man” or something like that, right? I cannot remember a protagonist I despised more than Harry Angstrom. And I guess that was the point, but it’d have been nice if we’d been given at least one character worth spending time with.
Updike is clearly attacking/critiquing several things there…love, God, the Chuch, family, marriage. I don’t know, everything? Almost everything, anyway. He clearly likes the sound of his own voice (and female anatomy), but that’s the only thing I can think of.
Miserable book filled with miserable people and I can’t see why anyone would bother to read this in the first place, much less elevate it to the status it has in contemporary lit. The worst of it all is that I’m going to have to read more, just to see if I can understand what it is about this loser that inspired four sequels.
Boy Proof by Cecil Castellucci
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Victoria Jurgen is an honor student, a budding photographer with a heck of an eye, a social misfit, a movie geek (there’s a correlation of the two), who’s nicknamed herself after a SciFi movie character. All this makes her (a goal for her, a criticism for her mother) “boy proof.”
She has no real friends at school–only rivals, acquaintances, and those that she ignores. Until a transfer student rattles her cage, awakening ideas, feelings, and goals she’s not ready for.
Victoria is what Bella Swan could’ve become if she were a bit geekier, and didn’t fall in with the supernatural set. Speaking of ol’ Bella, early on in Boy Proof, there’s a scene involving a transfer student, the only empty seat in class, and the newcomer’s odor that is very reminiscent of a scene from Twilight. IMNSHO, Castellucci pulls if off better than Meyer did.
There’s nothing ground-breaking here plot-wise, but Victoria’s character and voice are so strong, you don’t care. This book is about watching her change and grow. Could the book have been more than that? Sure. Did it need to be? Nope. I wish I could remember what blogpost/tweet/whatever it was that tipped me off to this book, but whatever it was, I’m glad I read it.
Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Another win for Rowell — this time, she charms with a story of a high school couple’s first love. Utterly charming, you effortlessly fall under the spell of these two, while from page one you know this isn’t going to end the way you want it to.
Park’s a pretty standard good kid — nice family, father’s a bit overbearing, into comics, Tae Kwon Do, punk and new wave music (hey, it’s 1986, don’t hold it against him). He doesn’t fit in as well as he should socially (his half-Korean-ness in a heavily white school doesn’t help), but overall he seems pretty well-adjusted.
Eleanor, on the other hand, isn’t. It takes most of the book to figure out just how messed up she is and why, but from early on, you get the picture of someone from a very damaged home just trying to be as normal as she can be (answer: not very).
These two meet on the school bus and eventually fall head-over-heels, and watching them figure out how to be in love, how to accept affection and differences . . . it just melts your heart.
Not as good as Rowell’s Attachments, but a winner nonetheless. Can’t wait for whatever she brings to the table next.
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