Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween, everyone!

I make no secret of the fact that Halloween is my favorite time of year. I watch every scary movie available, and I pick up a few scary reads as well -- more on them later.

For now, though, you might enjoy this list that came to me via the Texas Pages book blog: a list of the 10 scariest characters in literature.

I posted the list below, but you can follow the above link to read the article in full.

1. Big Brother from "1984" by George Orwell
2. Hannibal Lecter from the novels by Thomas Harris
3. Pennywise the clown from It by Stephen King
4. Nurse Ratched from "One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest" by Ken Kesey
5. Count Dracula from Bram Stoker's novel
6. Annie Wilkes from "Misery" by Stephen King
7. The demon from "The Exorcist" by William Peter Blatty
8. Patrick Bateman from "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis
9. Bill Sykes from "Oliver Twist" by Charles Dickens
10. Voldemort from the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling

I'm not sure I agree with all of the list -- No Poe? No Lovecraft? Also, I have beef with the number 1 slot. Big Brother is scary in that world domination is scary, but I'm not going to have a nightmare about it. Pennywise, on the other hand? Who isn't afraid of a freaky clown? Irrational fear should override intellectual fear. But that's just me.

scarier than totalitarianism? I don't think so.

So what are your picks for scariest characters, and scariest books in general? I can always use a few good recommendations.

Why does the cover have a chair in the air? and other serious questions

The Almost Moon
Alice Sebold

Another review is up over at Pajiba; you may click here to read it. As always, I'll include my usual touches below.

But honestly, I'm still kinda intrigued by the cover art for this one. A chair in the air. Why why why why why. I'm stumped. THINK, dammit. Symbolism is your forte, right?

Okay, let's see....the characters encountered chairs in the novel; surely they even sat on them once or twice. The chairs in question may even have looked like the one on the cover. But were they important enough to merit such a prime location? Hmmm. Maybe I missed something.

Perhaps the chair represents a stable home, one which is upended by the actions of

Nah. Hell with this.

Sometimes a chair in the air is just a chair in the air.

In a nutshell: Not earth-shaking, but engaging. Plus, you'll end feeling relieved that your life isn't as messed up as Helen's.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3.5 out of 6 stars

A Formula for Success: dumb parents + evil child = Nobel

The Fifth Child
Doris Lessing

I’ve tried to expose myself to some of Doris Lessing’s work, although the woman is so damned prolific that, despite thinking myself quite brilliant for choosing three of her works, I actually haven’t really read too much of her at all. I’ve chosen The Grass is Singing (1950), and The Fifth Child (1988), The Grandmothers (2003), so it’s a pretty good survey of her stuff.

I was nervous to read Lessing, since upon hearing of my intention to read some of her work, a poster had warned me against her “turgid prose,” and I feared my endeavor would be an exercise in pain. Keeping this warning in mind, I began my foray into the newest Nobel with the shortest – and therefore least intimidating – of my purchases, The Fifth Child.

Immediately, I was relieved: her prose was not turgid, in my opinion; instead, I found her writing both simple and elegant. Lessing begins the tale without delay or unnecessary frills, and we are quickly plunged into the world of the Lovatt.

The novel begins with the meeting of David and Harriet, who meet at an office party and instantaneously recognize in the other the very qualities they had been seeking. It isn’t long before the two are married, eager to embark upon the ONLY GOAL THEY HAVE: children.

No, seriously.

I’m not saying that having children isn’t an admirable goal, but these people take it to a whole ‘nother level. The second they are married, they buy a huge house they can't afford because they know that they will one day fill it with lots and lots of children. Harriet gets pregnant immediately and quits working, because working mothers = bad, or some such. And, despite financial problems that do not go away, they keep. having. children. What could go wrong?

sometimes a smackdown's necessary;
thankfully, Ben will do just that

Needless to say, I was really glad when Ben, the evil fifth child, was born. I sat back and snickered as these two freaks received a little karmic kickback. Their fifth child is, to put it bluntly, an evil little troll.

I’m not sure if The Fifth Child is meant to be a scathing indictment of those whose only goal is procreation, or if Lessing’s literary sword seeks a broader target, such as bourgeois domesticity at large. Lessing might simply be denouncing selfish parents, and lord knows there are plenty of those out there. Perhaps Lessing means none of these, and simply wants to stick it to her annoying protagonists – in which case, I can’t say I blame her. As someone with little-to-no domestic instincts, I couldn’t relate at all to the Lovatts, and I took a perverse joy in seeing Ben wreak utter havoc on their domestic bliss.

Ben is primitive and violent from the womb, and this behavior only worsens after his birth. To say that he does not interact well with other family members is putting it mildly, and soon, Ben has destroyed the peaceful domesticity that has reigned in the Lovatt house for years before his birth. The Lovatt house, which has become a haven for not only the immediate family but for anyone with even a slight connection to the happy couple, eventually stands empty and nearly abandoned.

The time quickly comes when Harriet must choose between her family and her fifth and final child. What’s a good mother to do? Unfortunately, Harriet’s a sucker. If Ben were my kid, I’d beat his monstrous, symbolic ass back to the Stone Age where he belongs.*

In a nutshell: Short, thought-provoking, and now with that nougaty, Nobel goodness.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars (although I think my overall hatred of the Lovatts is preventing me from rating The Fifth Child higher.)




*This is not entirely true. I’d have killed the little fucker long before it got to that point.**


**This is also not true, as I doubt any child will ever be dumb enough to exit my womb.***


***These points are all moot anyway, since I am very obviously Team Ben. Seriously. Watching Ben tear the Lovatts apart is really quite charming.

Get thee to a dermatologist!

A Spot of Bother
Mark Haddon

Having already read (and enjoyed) Mark Haddon’s first novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, I was excited to read his new book, A Spot of Bother. Sure, it's not technically new -- it's been out for awhile -- but it's newly in paperback, so let's not argue over semantics, okay?

A Spot of Bother begins as George Hall, buying a suit for the funeral of a friend, finds a small spot on his hip. It is merely “a small oval of puffed flesh on his hip, darker than the surrounding skin and flaking slightly,” but it is enough to send poor George into a tailspin. Convinced it is cancer, George must confront his mortality and the accompanying all-consuming fear it causes.

Excuse me while I try not to vomit everything I've ever eaten

George is consumed by panic (and if his spot looks anything like the above example of eczema, who the hell could blame the poor fellow? I mean, am I right, or am I right?), and as a result, he suffers panic attacks and spells of incoherence. Unfortunately this all couldn’t come about at a worse time: everyone in George’s family is experiencing some sort of personal crisis right now as well, and George’s issues are only making everything worse. George must deal with his divorced daughter's impending marriage to a man disliked by everyone, come to grips with his son's homosexuality, and confront the fact that his wife is having an affair with an old coworker.

Poor fellow, indeed.

Admittedly, this entire situation does seem a bit contrived, and yet it all works, culminating is a brilliant comedic scene that actually made me guffaw a few times while reading -- and I do not use the word guffaw lightly.

My only gripe with A Spot of Bother is regarding the length; in my most humble opinion, the novel would be more effective if it were about 50 pages shorter, but this is nit-picking, really, since it was enjoyable all the same. I'm still a little freaked out by the pictured I posted above, so I think I'll just quit while I'm ahead. I suddenly feel the need to moisturize.

In a nutshell: An admirable follow-up novel; while it's not perfect (nothing ever is, though), A Spot of Bother is an amusing read that elicits both laughter and pathos.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4.5 out of 6 stars

Some interesting bits

My schedule has lately prevented me from sharing some interesting bits I've come across, but fear not. I've scoured the web yet again to find you some oddities and attractions. Enjoy.

Since I can't help but love the space stuff, I was interested to hear that black holes can sing.

After reading this, one can't help but wonder: at what point does a library cease to be a library?

For the Cormac McCarthy fan -- he speaks again!

Ruh-roh. Oprah's praised another stinker.

And, because Halloween is my most favorite time of year (okay, maybe it's tied with Christmas), I present to you the following spooky treats:

Here is all about the origins and history behind Halloween. Pretty interesting stuff.

RetroCRUSH presents the 100 Scariest Movie Scenes of all time.

New light is shed on Edgar Allan Poe's death.

Since we're on the subject of Poe, you might enjoy this oft overlooked tale.

Back from the brink

IT'S ALIVE! ALIVE!

I'm back from the brink of death with lots of reviews to post. I have recently fallen prey to my annual back-to-school illness, which left me able to read but not so eager to type. So perhaps it wasn't so much "brink of death-ish," but whatever -- I don't handle illness very well. I'm back, though, and better than ever.

Over the next several days, you can expect a review of Mark Haddon's A Spot of Bother, Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things, a poetry piece, some Halloweeny treats, a few interesting bits, and a piece on Doris Lessing, whom I've been enjoying immensely. Whew!

Stay tuned!

And the winner is...

As you've probably heard by now, Doris Lessing has won the Nobel Prize for Literature. According to The Local, Lessing "is the oldest person ever to win, and only the eleventh woman since it was first awarded in 1901."

The Nobel Committee has described her as "that epicist of the female experience, who with scepticism, fire and visionary power has subjected a divided civilisation to scrutiny." For further reading about this year's Lady of Literature, click here to read an interview with her.

I'll be posting some reviews of her work shortly, as I plan to immerse myself in as much of it as possible; I'll report my findings soon, so check back here.

And, off topic, but I don't think that ear belongs there. Good lord.

New review and random reading

A kinda-sorta new review is up at Pajiba: a reworking of my earlier review of The Road by Cormac McCarthy. The new review (one which focuses less on zombies and more on -- call me iconoclast, I know -- the work itself) can be found here.

You might also enjoy reading the following fascinating miscellanea:

Hollywood scumbags an Afghan kid.

Because we all know that people -- excuse me, dinosaurs -- don't actually read magazines.

Assuming he was in possession of nothing else, could you be arrested for a book?

Paper Cuts predicts the Nobel, which should be announced soonish.

For the Life of Pi fan, Yann Martel talks about his inspiration.

In case you give a damn, Oprah wants you to read this next.

Dude, I didn't even know you could put vodka there. That's kinda awesome.

Thank god I didn't waste my money

Deeper
Jeff Long

I was dubious upon first beginning Jeff Long’s Deeper, not because of a barrage of cover praise (which usually indicates a sub-par work), but because Long seemed a bit Crichton-ish. And because the premise of Deeper sounded dumb. Dumb like a Crichton novel. And after my last two experiences with the C-man (ugh 1 and ugh 2), I feared that I was in for another dumbed-down novel on a mission.

However, if Long is Crichton-esque, he is the Crichton of days gone by, of Jurassic Park and Congo, not the current one whose work has become little more than a platform to spew his own agenda. So needless to say, I found Deeper to be an unexpected treasure, a glorious find – and, dare I say it, way better than anything I’ve ever read by Crichton.

Deeper takes us into a world set in the not-too-distant future, when excavations have unearthed an entire world underneath the Earth’s crust. Living in the vast networks of caves and tunnels are the Hadals, or, more specifically, Homo hadalis, a distant relative of Homo sapien. Many believe that the historical hell has been found and that the Hadals are its demonic denizens (and truly, it doesn't help that they're ugly as all get-out). Others recognize them as simply another life form with a right to exist peacefully. Many more want to exploit this unchartered territory and take from it all the resources it may yield.

Calibos = Hadal?

Of course, it is never as easy as all that. The nations of the world quickly scramble to claim their territory, and governments try to find a way to create laws to govern the vast wilderness beneath us. And what a wilderness it is: creatures never before imagined exist in the depths, evolution having occurred differently due to a total lack of sunlight. Humans experience odd reactions to the deep, and gases and magnetic waves react differently as well. Quite simply, life below cannot be predicted by one who has spent an entire life above. And, of course, there is a creature in the depths that surpasses even the blithest of summaries. In other words, what awaits explorers, treasure seekers, and readers alike can't be expected, but it will keep all involved on the edge of their seats.

In some hands, Deeper might have fallen into a deep pit of hokey, a chasm of trite ideas and clichéd plot devices. Fortunately (and also surprisingly), Long is a skilled craftsman, creating an entire world thrown into political chaos over the discovery of the new world that lies beneath the surface. The world above is as richly woven as is the world below, and there is much about the novel that stands as an allegory for today's world. The result is a thought-provoking and spine-tingling read, a rare treat nowadays.

In a nutshell: Deeper was fascinating, thrilling, and compelling. A surprising and enjoyable read that left me needing to read more books by this writer.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

A bunch of crap you don't really care about

I love procrastinating, so I figured I should fill out this quaint little questionnaire that I've seen on a few other bookblogs. Enjoy.

1. Hardcover or paperback, and why? Paperback, usually. I really only purchase hardcovers when they are on sale, or when the author is a favorite.

2. If I were to own a book shop I would call it... Hm. I’m so not creative. Let’s go with Bibliolatry. If it ain't broke and all that...

3. My favorite quote from a book (mention the title) is... The opening to Lolita:

Lolita. Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lolita. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

I also love this line from Paradise Lost: Long is the way / And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.

There are more, but those are just the first two that sprang to mind.

4. The author (alive or deceased) I would love to have lunch with would be... Wow, there are so many. Cormac McCarthy, Franz Kafka, Edgar Allan Poe, and Emily Bronte.

5. If I was going to a deserted island and could only bring one book, except for the SAS survival guide, it would be... one of my Norton Anthologies. But, in all honesty, I can’t really think about such a situation, I get stomach cramps thinking about having only one book.

6. I would love someone to invent a bookish gadget that... automatically organizes my books for me.

7. The smell of an old book reminds me of... promise.

8. If I could be the lead character in a book (mention the title), it would be... Alice from Alice in Wonderland. That tiny little crumpet always looked so tasty.

9. The most overestimated book of all times is... The DaVinci Code.

10. I hate it when a book... gets bent, torn, creased, etc.

Well, now. That was enlightening.