When life gives you lemons, turn them into art: Dorothy Allison's Bastard Out of Carolina

Bastard out of Carolina
Dorothy Allison

You might notice this post is labeled both "fiction" and "nonfiction." Bastard Out of Carolina is precisely that: an account of one's horrific childhood wearing a fictional dress. While reading the novel, I kept thinking I was reading a memoir, because it's true that Allison experienced much of what happens in Bastard.

What's more, it’s nice to read something that not only recounts a troubling period in one’s life but also stands as a truly great piece of literature. Bastard Out of Carolina is one of the few examples (in my admittedly limited experience, at least) of this achievement: Allison could have told a simple tale of horrifying abuse and shone as a survivor; thankfully, she has true talent and Bastard's greatness is due not to its shock value but rather the talented voice which inhabits it. Allison has transformed abuse into art.

Ruth Anne Boatwright, nicknamed “Bone,” grew up as the illegitimate daughter of a young mother living in the South. When her unwed mother (not surprisingly lonely, poor, and trying to make a good life for her daughters) marries “Daddy Glen,” Bone finds herself the object of his seething, irrational hatred. Why Daddy Glen hates her so is anybody’s guess, especially when her younger sister is treated just fine. But whatever the reason, Bone excites Daddy Glen’s rage to the point past which healing becomes impossible.

It goes without saying that Bastard Out of Carolina will anger its readers. How can her mother watch Bone receive beating after beating and not leave Glen, a man who is neither father nor even breadwinner? How does one choose loser spouse over innocent child? For all her talent, Allison doesn't have these answers, but she doesn't pretend to, either.

In a nutshell: More than just a tale of survival, Bastard Out of Carolina is disturbing but beautifully written.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars

If Only Reality were this Simple: The Pleasant World of George Saunders

The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil
George Saunders

George Saunders' novel The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil pokes fun at those governments that would enforce its will upon its hapless, defenseless neighbors. Hmm, that sounds like a vaguely familiar scenario. I wonder where I've heard that before...wait...it'll come...anyway.

The novel involves two fictional countries: Outer Horner and Inner Horner. Unfortunately for Inner Horner, it is very small and located INSIDE Outer Horner. It is so small that it can accommodate only one Inner Hornerite at a time, while the rest remain in the "Short Term Residency Zone." One day, a small piece of Inner Horner collapses, creating what one angry Outer Hornerite (the titular Phil) deems an "invasion" into his great and peaceful land. Naturally, the obvious course of action is to use confusing rhetoric to convince the populace that only the demise of Inner Horner will restore peace and prosperity to Outer Horner. Genocide ensues.

Saunders' political statement is far from subtle, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's trying to say here. The president of Outer Horner is an idiot who listens to Phil, some random citizen who is so pompous that his brain often falls out of his ass. Well, not quite his ass, as these characters aren't really human (one is composed of a tuna can, a belt buckle, and a blue light). The media representatives talk out of their asses too, except when they are proclaiming the "news" out of bullhorns.

Saunders' world is fantastical and interesting; the reader certainly sees his point and may very well nod in agreement--until, that is, the end. WHY WHY WHY RUIN A GOOD THING, MR. SAUNDERS??? If you don't want to ruin the end, don't read the rest of this paragraph, but since I don't recommend the book anyway, I probably won't bother you. I'll still do the neat highlighty thing, though. So the book continues along, with Phil wreaking havoc on the poor Inner Hornerites, until...are you ready...GOD COMES DOWN AND DISMANTLES HIM. What the fuck is that all about? Oh, wait, I forgot God literally comes down from the sky and dismantles people all the time. Isn't that what happened to Hitler? Silly me. So it's a realistic ending after all. My bad.

As you can see, I was quite bothered by the ending for ruining what could have been a really great read. Phil ultimately fails as a political allegory for this very reason. It is unfortunate that Saunders offers up no realistic method by which the Hornerites (both Outer and Inner alike) can overcome the ruthless Phil. It would have made for a better (and more hopeful) read. As it stands, Saunders' work is quite funny, but ultimately hopeless.

In a nutshell: It's great! Just don't read the end.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

Cesar Aira and the Golden Rule of Fiction

How I Became a Nun
Cesar Aira

I'm going to preface this review by saying straight off that premier Argentinean author Cesar Aira is too smart for me, How I Became a Nun is too smart for me, and you should probably not listen to a word I have to say regarding this book. Continue reading at your own peril.

About midway through How I Became a Nun, Aira writes, "It's too complicated not to be true...it's the golden rule of fiction." So, apparently, truth is complicated; so is fiction. If A = B and B = C, making A = C, does that mean, as How I Became a Nun seems to argue, that truth is fiction? AI CESAR, WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?

(Sidenote: I'd just like to point out that the above paragraph featured an understanding of math. I'll wait a minute for your applause; a quiet golf clap will do nicely. Those who know me will understand that using any sort of math correctly is quite a feat for me.)

Let's return to this idea of truth being fiction. How I Became a Nun is an "autobiographical novel," which explains a lot. So, basically, it's both true and an utter lie, especially when you consider the fact that the protagonist is six-year-old Cesar, except that sometimes Cesar is a girl. Then a boy. Oh, wait - he's a girl again. There's a point here, about the slippery nature of truth and reality, or perhaps about the importance of imagination, or maybe about the impossibility of true memory, but further contemplation of Aira's meaning regarding the gender of his narrator only pains me.

Anyway, this "autobiographical novel" begins with the narrator's first experience with ice cream, which, unbeknownst to him, has been tainted with cyanide. The narrator then continues to explain the events which occur as a result.

Along the way, it seems as if Aira is intentionally trying to confuse his reader. First, there is the whole gender issue. That aside, he never becomes a nun. (Obviously.) That didn't stop me from wracking my brain trying to think up symbolic associations with nun, and I could only guess that maybe by "nun" he means "writer." Because, you know, nuns are very writer-ish and stuff. And then there's the ending, which I'm going to have to spoil in order to explain. If you are interested, just highlight the text. At the end of the book, the narrator dies. Except we know he doesn't really die, so it must be all symbolic or something. But it hurt to think about that, too. And so there are many elements of the book which are really confusing and would make sense to one who only has the time and inclination to analyze them. Unfortunately, I don't, and I didn't enjoy it enough to want to make the time.

In a nutshell: Pretty confusing; I should probably read it about two more times to wrap my head around it, but quite frankly, I don't want to. How I Became a Nun would be a good text for a graduate course, as it would elicit some good discussion, but it's a bit rough going on one's own.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

Perpetuating the Myth of the Happily Ever After

The Alchemist
Paulo Coelho

I’m not a pessimist, really. I'm a realist. As such, I should have known better than to read this book. The Alchemist is a cute little story which has been described as a parable (a huge red flag, which I ignored). Unfortunately, like all parables, The Alchemist never lets you forget you’re supposed to be getting a lesson. And the lesson here is all warm and fuzzy goodness. Only it is all a bunch of lies.

The story revolves around a young shepherd who has a dream about treasure in the desert. Should he ignore the dream and stay with his flock, or risk all he has in order to turn his dream into reality? Considering this is an "utterly inspirational" story, you can figure out what happens.

Gag me.

I suppose my problem is not so much with the book but more with the philosophy behind it. So, every little girl will marry a prince, right? And live happily ever after? And all you need to do is work for your dream? And the rest will take care of itself? The very earth will help you achieve your dream, your "personal legend"?

The very earth?? Personal legend???

Bullshit. How many forty-year-old “actors” are still waiting tables out in LA, still praying for that "big break"? Well, geez, guys! Didn’t you know you just need to WORK for your dream? And the very earth will help you achieve it? Ugh. Sorry failed sportstar with a shattered knee! Work harder, loser!

Give me a break.

In a nutshell: Good for a kid, I guess. They're pretty dumb and don't know any better. Suckers.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars (because some parts were kinda sweet, in spite of myself)

Books that Francine Prose Likes, by Francine Prose

Reading Like a Writer
Francine Prose

This book has garnered such rave reviews, I was a little disappointed when I finally read it. Luckily, I borrowed it from the library instead of just purchasing it, as I would usually do. Victory is mine!

In her attempt to show you how to read like a writer, Prose tackles about a dozen or so major areas of writing: words, sentences, paragraphs, characterization, dialogue, details, narration, and so on. For each section, Prose provides examples of those authors and texts which best illustrate excellence in the given area. Her examples are chosen from a variety of sources, and I was able to pick up quite a few titles to add to my “to read” list.

Prose’s idea is a good one, but the execution is a little, well, off. Maybe it's because I kept expecting Prose to bequeath a great secret. Do this and this, and good writing is yours. That's not quite what happens here. (Nor could it reasonably be expected, but you wouldn't know it from some of the reviews I've read, some of which make it sound as though just reading this book will turn you into Shakespeare.) Instead, we get lots of examples of good writing, some discussion of the techniques at hand, and some autobiographical anecdotes from Prose.

Of course, its very thesis damn near makes the book useless. Prose’s idea is hardly new: if one wishes to write well, one must read well. But read what? "Good" writing, obviously, but the definition of good varies from reader to reader. As regular readers of Bibliolatry already know, even White Apples has its fans. So, basically, Reading Like a Writer will show you Prose’s favorite authors, but a writer may not wish to write like any of these people.

If you want to be a writer, maybe you should just stop procrastinating and start writing. However, if you want to be a reader, then this is the book for you! Just kidding. There's some interesting stuff here. Ultimately, however, the would-be writer must find her own examples of good writing.

In a nutshell: Handy as a reference book, but at some point the would-be writer must actually write. Take a look at it, give it a good once-over, jot down a few notes, move on. And, of course, write, if that's what you're aiming to do, but find your own greats to light your way. If you don't have any, you can always borrow Prose's, but any writer worth her salt should have her own.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

Read this book: The Road, by Cormac McCarthy

The Road
Cormac McCarthy

I can say with almost 100% certainty that nothing scares me more than

1. the living dead
2. surviving the apocalypse

So I think it goes without saying that The Road scared the hell out of me. Of course, this technically isn’t a novel about zombies, but I think anyone who reads it can agree that McCarthy is writing about both of my biggest fears.

slow, but so persistent

What can I say about The Road that hasn’t already been said? Quite simply, it’s amazing. Utterly breathtaking, painfully bleak, The Road needs to be read. Unlike Blood Meridian (which I’m still toiling through) The Road is absolutely readable and impossible to put down, and I finished it in a few hours.

If you haven’t yet heard about this book (which would be quite a feat, with all the press its received in the past year), I’ll briefly recap the plot: an unnamed father and son travel south after some tragedy (never fully explained, but most likely nuclear in origin) has destroyed America, maybe even the entire world. There are, of course, survivors, and that is where the real fear comes in: the lucky ones died in the attack.

And yet, despite the hopeless landscape, The Road remains a hopeful novel. There will always be love, always something to fight for, even when there is nothing left at all.

In a nutshell: Yet another reminder (see Earth Abides, I am Legend) to kill myself if I happen to survive the coming apocalypse. Doing so is, of course, the very thing McCarthy argues against. Whatever. Better than being a legless captive slowly eaten by cannibals. Oh, the horror.

Bibliolatry Scale: 6 out of 6 stars

Want to make vampires boring? Just add history!

The Historian
Elizabeth Kostova

Did you know Dracula is real? Not was real, but is real. That’s the premise behind The Historian. Apparently, Dracula is alive and well--and he’s even got his own stationery line.

Well, not exactly. Every so often, one studious soul, researching in the depths of a library, will find an old book, completely blank inside except for the middle pages, which bear the picture of a dragon. If the finder is intrigued enough to keep the book and begin investigating its source, doom is imminent, for the investigation into the mysterious book may very well lead into the heart of Eastern Europe, to the resting place of Dracula. And in the process the investigator will be...you know it's coming...BORED TO TEARS.

Dum dum DUM!

In a nutshell, that’s the plot of The Historian. The story itself is sorta good…in that it involves vampires, which I generally like, but unfortunately, The Historian contains too much…well, history. And what isn’t history kinda sucks. Awesome!

First, the history. While I found it overwhelming, I know that the history is exactly what so many like about it. Unlike those who loved the historical “bits” (and by “bits” I mean long, long, long passages of text which totally chop up the plot but, on a positive note, do manage to show off the author’s vast knowledge of history) I could take only so many references to the Ottoman Empire, unknown places and buildings, and various historical figures with whom I was unfamiliar. (Can I get some visual inserts, at least? Jeez.) Overall, I found the abundance of history all a bit overwhelming and thought it detracted from the book’s story. It’s not that I am against the inclusion of all historical influences…there was just so MUCH. Condense, please.

Now, the plot. Ah, yes. I naively thought vampires = interesting. Not so here—Kostova is one of those great writers who can bore you to tears with what would normally be an intriguing story. Worse still, the plot is quite predictable and contrived; for example, the world is big and only a few “lucky” souls find one of the abovementioned books—and yet they all BUMP INTO ONE ANOTHER DURING THE NOVEL. How convenient! Ugh, and did I mention the length? It’s 700 pages! The novel could be cut in half and not suffer greatly. Or at all. The lack of suspense is also a downer. But I like vampires, so I was interested in some of it. A small part.

In a nutshell: Yawn.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars