We can never be clean

Wise Blood
Flannery O'Connor

In Flannery O'Connor's first novel, Hazel Motes, grandson of an evangelical preacher, wants to escape his disturbing understanding of God. Haunted by Christ and unable to escape Him, Motes founds the Church of Christ Without Christ and preaches his ideas to any and all who would listen.

Unfortunately, things happen that stand in his way. And then OTHER things happen which are (a) pretty crazy, (b) contrary to Motes' actions and purported beliefs, and (c) provide the reader with O'Connor's opinions regarding Roman Catholicism.

Clearly, Wise Blood is a Very Important Book with Very Important Things to Say. That much is clear. Additionally, the prose is as fresh and as clear as a mountain spring. (Did I really just write that? I'm sorry.) Anyway, the point is, I was able to tear through this novel in a matter of hours.

At right: Brad Dourif as Hazel Motes

And now, for the single drawback: I couldn't connect emotionally to the book at all. I felt bad for Motes at times (especially by the end of the novel), but I didn't understand him. I "get" what O'Connor is trying to say via his character, but Motes himself is alien to me.

That said, Wise Blood is obviously profound and thought-provoking: I finished the book a couple of weeks ago and have been turning it over in my mind ever since. But that doesn't mean I enjoyed the experience.

Is that necessary, though? To a certain extent, it is -- for me, at least.

In a nutshell: A classic that is not necessarily enjoyable, but one that will leave you pondering for days.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: Another Christmas present! Thus, no icky ties to disclose.

A disease from the past? Great, something else to fear.

Year Zero
Jeff Long

About two years ago, I happened upon Jeff Long's Deeper, and I knew I had to read more by this author. A month ago, when searching for some good "Kindle books," I found my second opportunity to hang out with this author.

The plot for this one sounds rather complicated (it doesn't feel complicated when reading the novel, thankfully), so bear with me. A big earthquake levels much of the Middle East. Boo. However, parts of Jesus' actual neighborhood are now accessible. Yay! Unfortunately, some of the artifacts are tainted with disease. Boo. Now a deadly plague is tearing across the globe. Poop.

Nathan Lee, our intrepid protagonist, after numerous adventures that culminate in his imprisonment in a Tibetan jail, finds himself unguarded once the plague begins to rear its ugly head. Finally free, he slowly makes his way to America, specifically Los Alamos, where surviving scientists struggle to find a cure for the plague. Lee's in for an even bigger surprise, though: the scientists are making clones from the DNA found on the artifacts! And then things go from bad to worse. Oh boy.

Year Zero provides readers with an interesting, thrilling scenario. While I didn't enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Deeper, I was entertained enough to want to search out more by Jeff Long. And I won't wait another two years to do it, either!

In a nutshell: Intriguing and fast paced, Year Zero was an original and fun read.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: I bought this one for the Kindle.

The end of the world as we know it

The Year of the Flood
Margaret Atwood

Gah! The end of the year is when????? And I'm how many reviews behind???? Erm.

Anyway -- Atwood. I read this one back in October, and have been pondering my review ever since. Now, I'm rushed and won't give it the attention I intended. Oh well.

If you aren't familiar with TYoTF, Atwood returns to the world she created in Oryx and Crake. It's the future, things are bad, evil corporations do evil things...you get the point. Now a disease has wiped out much of humanty, and the survivors struggle for survival. TYoTF focuses on some of these survivors, while Oryx and Crake focused on the origins of the plague.

To get to the point, I enjoyed TYoTF, even if I didn't think it was one of her best works. And, while I didn't think it was necessary to have read Oryx and Crake immediately before (I had read it in 2004), I was annoyed that I didn't remember more of the connections. Since some of the characters in Oryx and Crake reappear in TYoTF, I was frustrated more by knowing I was forgetting something, which might have prevented me from better enjoying the book.

One thing that bothered me by TYoTF were those passages I found "skim-worthy," -- for example, the hymns and sermons that precede the chapters. At first they provided an interesting look into the world of TYoTF, but after awhile I felt they were just slowing me down.

In a nutshell: Not her best, but admirable nevertheless.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: I purchased this one for my library.

Fruit baskets and bum days

A Winter Haunting
Dan Simmons

Fruit baskets! I knew it couldn't last.

In the past two years or so, I've read and adored two recent novels written by Dan Simmons. Because I enjoyed his most recent works so much, I've vowed to read more of his earlier work. Hence, A Winter Haunting.

The premise sounds promising: Dale Stewart -- middle-aged, divorced, and depressed (not to mention heavily medicated) -- makes the trek back to his hometown in an effort to isolate himself. Such isolation is necessary to write his novel; of course, it's also necessary for him to face his own personal demons.

You see, years ago, Dale's best friend died under suspicious circumstances, which is partly why Dale returns to the now-empty house of his dead friend. Yes, that's right: he chooses to pass the winter in his dead friend's house, and, what's more, he even chooses to pass each night in his friend's very bed. Allllrighty then.

sounds like a perfectly sane plan!

The reader, of course, can see where this is headed long before dumb Dale does. Dale's personal demons return to haunt him -- both literally and figuratively. While several scenes were surprising, some were simply too...shall I say incredible? to elicit any actual apprehension in the reader.

I also had an issue with the narrative voice, which was a bit awkward for me, even if the premise was an intriguing one. (If you don't mind a minor spoiler -- and one resolved in the first chapter, at that -- you can highlight the following: The narrator is Dale's dead friend. Yes, you read that correctly. And while such a narrator sounds interesting, the execution was somewhat lacking.)

Still, I'm not done with Simmons, not by a long shot. I consider A Winter Haunting merely a pothole on an otherwise perfect highway. Right? RIGHT?

In a nutshell: I knew such high expectations were impossible to maintain. Sigh. I'm not giving up on him, though: we all have our bum days.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2.5 out of 6 stars

A world rich with lunacy and sorrow

The World According to Garp
John Irving

Don't think I haven't forgotten my reading resolution; I've just given myself some slack with it. Instead of reading ONLY resolution titles, I'm allowing myself the occasional splurge, but I'm still plugging on.

My latest resolution title is one that gave me some trouble at first. I started reading The World According to Garp at the beginning of May, but it took me awhile to really get into the story. The beginning of the novel, which seemed like so much unnecessary backstory (more about this in a sec), weighed me down and prevented me from reading faster. However, once Garp got out of high school, the story picked up and I couldn't put it down.

Although I found the beginning of the book slow, I wouldn't delete a single word now that I look back on it. We begin well before Garp's birth by meeting his mother, Jenny. Garp himself doesn't make an appearance right away, but, while this information bored me at first, I soon found that it allowed me to truly come to know Garp and his family as though they were flesh and blood.

I feel as though I'm the only person left who hasn't yet read this book (or seen the movie starring Robin Williams. Really? Robin Williams as Garp? I wouldn't have thunk it), so a summary probably isn't necessary, but here goes: Garp's born, he's a bit quirky, his mother's even quirkier, Garp becomes a writer, shit happens to him and a lot of others and life goes on. That's pretty much the entire book, and yet it's somehow so much more. In fact, I felt as though I lived a lifetime while reading about Garp.

In a nutshell: Has anyone read anything else by John Irving? Because Garp was so good, I'm going back for seconds. Irving also has a new novel out in October, entitled Last Night in Twisted River... so be on the lookout, Irving fans!

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

The dead know nothing

What the Dead Know
Laura Lippman

It seems as though What the Dead Know took me FOREVER to read. I started it in October (I think), but finished the majority of the novel last week. As such, it counts as another title in my reading resolution, although I'm disappointed to report that reading this book wasn't as enjoyable as some other titles I've read so far in 2009.

What the Dead Know is a mystery thirty years in the making. When a woman involved in a car accident claims to be one of two young sisters who disappeared thirty years earlier, investigators return to the case that has stumped them for so long. Unfortunately, things don't add up. Why is this woman coming forward now? How can such a bizarre tale be true? Why does she refuse to aid the police in their investigation? She's hardly reliable, and yet it's clear she knows something.

I'd like to say that I enjoyed What the Dead Know more than I did, but, truth is, I found it pretty mediocre. I was able to predict certain truths, and the writing wasn't particularly scintillating. Furthermore, some parts dragged and I felt the novel could have been shortened substantially.

Unfortunately, my reaction to this book has left me feeling less than adequate, since I've read quite a few glowing reviews of What the Dead Know. What's wrong with me that I didn't enjoy it more? Oh well. No time to ponder such profundities -- I've got more books to read.

In a nutshell: Yawn.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

An ugly whatchacallit and I stand united against false comparisons

Winterwood
Patrick McCabe

Perhaps delayed reviewing is making me a more demanding reviewer, one not so easily pleased. Had I reviewed McCabe's Winterwood immediately after finishing it, I'd probably rate it more highly. Some time has passed, however, and I'm finding myself pretty disappointed by the book.

Winterwood is narrated (unreliably, as soon becomes clear) by Redmond Hatch, who returns to his Irish village seeking to uncover local legends and traditions. There he finds "Auld Pappie Ned," just the man to help Redmond remember all that he seeks to find -- and all that he'd rather keep hidden, as well.

The novel moves both forward and backward in time, and as the novel progresses we simultaneously anticipate Ned's final revelation as well as our narrator's own little surprise.

Unfortunately, it was pretty clear from the beginning where the book was headed, and although a few elements were truly surprising, the heart of the novel was too easily anticipated, leaving me feeling more than a little unsatisfied. The inside jacket describes this book as a "rare hybrid of literary fiction and the most terrifying thriller; not since Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian has there been a story of such horror combined with writing of such beauty."

Hm.

Literary fiction? Absolutely.

Terrifying thriller? Welll...thriller, yes. Terrifying, no.

But as beautiful and horrible as Blood Meridian!?!?

Good day, sir. I said GOOD DAY.

this ugly whatchacallit clearly agrees

In a nutshell: Disturbing, yes, but ultimately disappointing.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

everyone's a little to blame for everything

Who by Fire
Diana Spechler

I'll be upfront and say right away that I didn't expect to enjoy Who By Fire as much as I did. When I read the cover blurb, I expected a story that bordered on trite, another run-of-the-mill story of a family torn apart by tragedy and reunited through misadventures.

Who By Fire may be the story of a family torn apart by tragedy and reunited through misadventures, but to write it off as being trite or run-of-the-mill is to do a disservice to a truly wonderful novel. I received a review copy in the mail and expected to consider reading it (as I often consider books given to me to review) a chore that distracts me from my "real" reading. I read the opening pages and was immediately shocked.

I did not expect to be so captivated.

Before I knew it, my school work fell neglected, my bookbag unopened. (That's what early starts are for, anyway...right?) The spooky read that had been so entertaining me lay forgotten on my nightstand. More surprising still, I found myself reading despite husband watching hours of television (at high volume, of course), but so engrossed was I that I tore through the novel without even looking up. The next day in school, I read while my students wrote an essay, even though that time would have been more productively spent marking papers. It didn't matter. I had to know what was going to happen.

I finished Who By Fire in record time, surprising for a review copy I hadn't even planned to enjoy.

Now that you know it enthralled me, I'll tell you a little about it -- but beware, however, that it truly transcends summary, for the blurb on the back of the book didn't come close to doing it justice. Here, I'll even copy it here:

Bits and Ash were children when the kidnapping of their younger sister, Alena — an incident for which Ash blames himself — caused an irreparable family rift. Thirteen years later, Ash is living as an Orthodox Jew in Israel, cutting himself off from his mother, Ellie, and his wild-child sister, Bits. But soon he may have to face them again; Alena's remains have finally been uncovered. Now Bits is traveling across the world in a bold and desperate attempt to bring her brother home and salvage what's left of their family. Sharp and captivating, Who by Fire deftly explores what happens when people try to rescue one another.

But Who By Fire is more than this; it's both poignant and yet laugh-out-loud funny, informative and yet entertaining. Spechler tackles what tears a family apart as well as what brings them together, what drives people to religion and others away from it. Simply put, however, Who By Fire is a wonderful novel that doesn't need to be classified in any of the above ways.

Who By Fire shines for other reasons as well. As someone woefully ignorant about Judaism, I found the passages concerning Ash's life incredibly informative. Never did Spechler bore the reader with unnecessary details, and informative details were deftly woven into the storyline so that they blended seamlessly, without seeming plunked in or heavy-handed. The character of Bits also attests to Spechler's talents as a writer, for Bits, a character that could so easily fall into cliche, remains fresh, dynamic, and entirely life-like. However, the honor of being my favorite character has to go to their mother, Ellie. She brought a warmth and humor to the novel that propelled me onward, as I often couldn't wait to reach the next chapter she narrated.

If I had to nitpick, I might argue that the novel's end is too neat and tidy, but I'd be lying if I said I wanted it to end any other way. After reading about these characters for so long, I'd come to truly care for them, and the ending left me satisfied and content. Although such an ending probably wouldn't happen in reality, I wouldn't have been happy if Who By Fire ended any other way.

In a nutshell: Who By Fire is immensely readable, surprisingly profound, and totally enjoyable. I look forward to Spechler's next endeavor.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

People always make the wolf more formidable than he is

A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father
Augusten Burroughs

My latest review has posted at Pajiba, and this time it's on A Wolf at the Table, Augusten Burroughs' memoir of his father. You might remember him from an earlier work, Running With Scissors, but don't expect this new work to have the same humorous, light-hearted tone.

To read my review, go here.

In a nutshell: Issues of reliability aside, Wolf is a moving and cathartic memoir.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

Fight or Flight: How will YOU face the end?

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War
Max Brooks

Well, now, I'm just facing a whole bunch of fears lately, eh? (True, I'm doing so in bookish form, but I'd say that's just as good.) Not only have I forced myself to read about cockroaches, I’m continuing to stare down another big fear: zombies. My fear of the impending zombie apocalypse has been well documented, so I won't say anymore about it. Of course, unlike my fear of cockroaches (which causes me to run from anything that even remotely resembles one, like a caterpillar), my fear of zombies is the opposite: I don't run from zombies, I embrace them.

Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking: you can't embrace zombies; they don't exist. You aren't really making a giant leap here. To that I say: zombies simply aren't real right now. Just you wait.

So as part of love/hate of all that is zombie-ish, I'm always searching for anything zombie-related. Enter World War Z. I was a bit wary of reading something else by Max Brooks after unsuccessfully reading his previous work, The Zombie Survival Guide, a tongue-in-cheek explanation of how to survive the impending zombie apocalypse. Reading World War Z has reconciled me to The Zombie Survival Guide, which I now see in a different light (although I maintain The Zombie Survival Guide would be better as an appendix to World War Z).

Fight or flight, you say?
I'm running like a little bitch

Although I am usually a snarky devil, I have to say I enjoyed World War Z, and I was a little saddened to see that it received so many negative reviews. (While, ironically enough, The Zombie Survival Guide was lauded, something I just can't wrap my brain around.) So as I provide an overview to the book, I'll also try to knock down some of the charges levied against World War Z.

World War Z is billed as an oral history of the zombie war, so it's all told after the war has ended. Many critics have complained that this creates a lack of suspense -- but, people, we're talking about ZOMBIES here!! Does it really matter if we've won a war against them when it's all said and done? I argue that one's fear of zombies comes not from becoming one of them but rather from not becoming one of them. The zombies themselves lack the mental capacity to realize their lot; those fighting against them are all too aware of what they stand against.

Furthermore, as various personages (military strategists, smugglers, officials, random survivors -- you name it) relate the tale, they each return us to a particular moment in the war: for some, it's the initial appearances of the plague, which appears in isolated regions; later, during what is called "The Great Panic," large outbreaks occur. As the survivors relate the details of the moment, we forget that this is aftermath; we are, quite simply, in the moment, and so the complaint that there is no suspense is a little absurd.

Another critique is the lack of individual voice to distinguish one narrator from another. To be fair, there is something to this criticism, but I have to be honest and say that it didn't bother me while I was reading it. Another criticism is the unbelievability of some details, like, for example, the fact that certain military weapons don't work at all on zombies. (To that I say: um, zombies aren't real, so how do we know what would work on them? To say that a shrapnel bomb would most definitely take a zombie down and Brooks is an asshole for having zombies survive such an attack is more than a little pedantic, in my humble opinion.)

More cogent of a criticism is the fact that certain details contradict themselves (like, for example, how one narrator explains that zombies naturally decompose or starve or some such after a period of time, while another explains that if several zombies were locked up, they would emerge just as deadly in a few years). This is a valid criticism, but, to a person who enjoys zombie lit, one that is easily overlooked. (And, as reader Jeff so astutely points out, it's an oral history, so some contradiction among varying points of view is to be expected.)

Overall, I enjoyed World War Z. There were a few areas I admit to skimming (especially those concerning reconstruction after the end of the war), but it maintained my interest and it provided the zombie fix I was looking for.

In a nutshell: Engrossing and detailed, World War Z may not always be the most logically sound, but that's forgivable given the subject matter.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

The most important facts hold true

When You Are Engulfed in Flames
David Sedaris

My latest review is available at Pajiba, this time on the latest by David Sedaris, When You Are Engulfed in Flames.

Many critics complain that this latest collection of personal essays isn't as hilarious as previous collections, such as Naked, which, to be fair, made me wet my pants from laughing too hard. However, comparing Engulfed to Naked is, in my mind, a bit unfair, and you can read what I say in response to such criticism here.

In a nutshell: Perhaps not as hilarious as previous works, but that doesn't mean When You Are Engulfed in Flames isn't worth the read.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Funny Scum

The Wentworths
Katie Arnoldi

The Wentworths features some of the worst human beings I’ve encountered in a long time. They aren’t evil dictators or serial rapists or junkie pedophiles. No, they’re worse -- they're super-rich L.A. snobs. However, I maintain their position at the bottom of the human pile because they’re so insidiously common, and one feels as though a Wentworth or two lurks on every street in the country – at least in the more affluent neighborhoods, that is. Each Wentworth takes douchbaggery up a notch, as if they’ve all secretly agreed to see who can make the biggest case for compulsory euthanasia.

In fact, let’s just imagine the following, highly probable scenario: The Wentworths and I are together in a non-descript location. I am neither rich, anorexic, nor pretentious, so, having nothing in common to discuss, we’d all be sitting silently. Without warning, a masked gunman appears. He forces me to do the unthinkable: shoot a Wentworth, or be killed myself.

What a moral dilemma! Unfortunately, the difficulty lies not in shooting a Wentworth; hell, that’s a no-brainer. But how the hell could I choose only one? Would I get extra credit for extra Wentworths?

They wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t so damn arrogant, but their belief in their own perfection only enhances their flaws. And flaws there are in spades. If you don’t believe me, consider the facts: There’s August, who is such an old philandering fart that I can barely write this many words about him without dry-heaving; Judith, who must survive on 500 calories a day and treats everyone around her like dog shit; Conrad, who makes Patrick Bateman likable; Norman, who is batshit insane like you’d expect from someone named Norman; and Becky, who takes Judith as her role model, so enough said there. Her husband, Paul, is okay, but their two kids are total assholes: the boy’s a klepto and the girl’s only likable because I kept picturing Isabella Hodes from Weeds. In that respect, she was my favorite character.

little boxes filled with ticky tacky

Amazingly enough, despite this collection of human scum – perhaps it would be more correct to say because of it, I loved Katie Arnoldi’s The Wentworths, which follows this family through the myriad of problems they encounter as a result of their own evil ways.

The chapters are brief, some only a page or so, and after finishing the first one, I was immediately hooked. The Wentworths didn’t leave my hand until I finished it the next day. While the characters and action are at times outlandish, I nevertheless found every scene utterly believable, and I couldn’t wait to see how the family handled and overcame one problem after another. This isn't to say I'm giving away an "all's well that ends well" ending. In fact, the opposite is true; I'll only say I felt vindicated at the end.

Unfortunately, The Wentworths doesn’t do much to break the stereotype of the narcissistic, superficial Californian. Nor should it: I prefer to keep that stereotype intact, for the simple reason that it's probably saving all of our lives. Let me explain: I KNOW good individuals live there, but maintaining that stereotype prevents me from ever desiring to venture there myself. And I cannot go there, for the simple fact that my luck is not the best. At ALL. I could go into more detail, but my point is that with luck like mine, the Big One will strike the second I touch foot on California soil. And then where we all be? I'll have single-handedly brought down the entire Western seaboard. If imagining a statefull of pricks will keep all of us safe and sound, I say prick away. So thanks, Katie Arnoldi, for keeping the country together for just a little bit longer.

In a nutshell: A pleasant, hilarious surprise that left me eager to read another book by Arnoldi.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

The year of self-inflicted torture

The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible
A.J. Jacobs

My latest review is up at Pajiba, and you may click here to read it. This time I tackled The Year of Living Biblically, by A.J. Jacobs. Basically, the author follows every rule in the Bible for an entire year.

I have to say that I was really pleasantly surprised by this book; I hate to admit that I at first wrote the book off as boring, but I was wrong. To be fair, let me explain my train of thought, which went a little something like this: Bible = boring. Pretty simple stuff, really, but I never said I was deep. Okay, maybe I did say that. Whatever.

Anyway, I was wrong. The book was great. It made me laugh out loud (and not the fake LOL kind that actually means you didn't laugh out loud) and it even made me think about my own faith. Good stuff. (Plus, the fact that it wasn't boring didn't hurt.)

In a nutshell: The Year of Living Biblically provides a lot of interesting, thought-provoking bits -- without forcing the reader to suffer the same torture the author endured for a year. (And, in all honesty, the author didn't consider it torture but I sure would, especially if I were his wife.)

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars


And finally, for you Atonement fans, this website has clips of the film adaptation, which premieres in the US next month. Enjoy!

The Beast gets funny...and a little annoying, too

Who Stole the Funny?: A Novel of Hollywood
Robby Benson

Hey there, folks, my second review has been published over at Pajiba, this time on Robby Benson's Who Stole the Funny?

If Benson's name rings a bell, you might be a loser like me and remember him as the voice of the Beast from the Disney "masterpiece." (I mentally quibbled about the quotes there; I hesitate to call any Disney film a masterpiece, but I do love that movie. Sigh. I need to watch it again.) Or you might remember him from a bunch of other stuff he did; his IMDB profile is quite lengthy.

At any rate, you may click here to read my review in full; of course, be sure to check out all the other great reviews on the site. As before, I'll provide my "In a nutshell" commentary and rating system.

In a nutshell: Light and fluffy, Who Stole the Funny? highlights all that Hollywood seems to offer...and makes you glad that you aren't there too.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3.5 out of 6 stars

Possibly outrageous but definitely boring

The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead
Max Brooks

I like books, right? And everyone knows how I just luurve zombies. So if you add the two together, I’ll like the result, right?

Right?

Quite simply, I didn’t “get” this book. It’s labeled as humor; Publishers Weekly calls it an “outrageous parody of a survival guide.” Well it is a parody, but outrageous? I suppose I could see that one, if I had to, but this book isn’t funny, unless you count the existence of zombies as a joke, which I most assuredly do NOT.

If you do count the existence of zombies as a joke, then I suppose this book is funny. Otherwise, you’re out of luck, since you won’t find any other joke within these pages. This book has also been described as “exhaustively comprehensive,” and it is. If there were to be a zombie attack, you’ll need this guide. But therein lies the problem: you'll never need it. Why does a "joke guide" for a totally impossible situation take itself so seriously? Where's the fun? The joke?

Seriously, there are no jokes. Instead, there are almost 200 pages dedicated to manifold scenarios; weapons are outlined and the pros and cons of each are discussed. In detail. So are possible escape methods (a dirt bike is surprisingly preferable to the car). But again, these things are described in detail. Serious detail. Serious as in not funny. As in this shit might actually happen. A bigger problem is that Brooks manages to make what should be an exciting topic dull and boring. That’s a pretty big deal.

I could go on, but I’m getting bored just writing this review. Yikes.

In a nutshell: meh

Bibliolatry Scale: 1 out of 6 stars

My life, my portion of eternity

The Voice at 3:00 A.M.: Selected Late and New Poems
Charles Simic

After hearing Charles Simic named as Poet Laureate, I just had knew I needed to get my hands on his poetry. The small taste I had earlier gleaned did not whet my appetite. I searched online: I hemmed, I hawed, I debated which volume to purchase.

At long last, I settled upon The Voice at 3:00 A.M., a collection of late and new poems ranging from 1986 to the present day. As usual, I sat down to read this collection with my usual stack of post-its, a must whenever reading a book of poetry so that I may flag every poem I like. I am pleased to report that I nearly used them all when reading this collection of Simic’s work. While not every poem resounded with me, I can honestly say his work quite often took my breath away.

For my part, I like poems that appear simple (and are easy to read) yet yield multiple interpretations after some reflection. Most of Simic’s poems meet my criteria, and there are only a few poems that were so long I lost interest in them. Most were about a page in length, and nearly all made me stop and think. Choosing a favorite poem from this collection is damn near impossible, although I seem to have enjoyed the earlier poems in this collection better than the ones from the present.

I could speak more about this volume, but I think I had best allow his poetry to speak for him.

Consider the shortest poem in the collection, entitled “Evening Chess” (1992):

EVENING CHESS

The Black Queen raised high
In my father’s angry hand.


That's it! I just think it's brilliant, and I can't put my finger on why. This next one, from the present day, astounded me with its simple beauty, and I enjoy it more and more with every read:

NEAREST NAMELESS

So damn familiar,
Most of the time,
I don’t even know you are here.
My life,
My portion of eternity,

A little shiver,
As if the chill of the grave
Is already
Catching up with me—
No matter.

Descartes smelled
Witches burning
While he sat thinking
Of a truth so obvious
We keep failing to see it.

I never knew it either
Till today.
When I heard a bird shriek:
The cat is coming,
And I felt myself tremble.


I love that, "my life, my portion of eternity." I'm a little confuzzled as to Decartes' truth, though; is it no more than "I think, therefore I am"? Is that the truth we keep failing to see, that we are? I'd like to hear your thoughts on this.

In a nutshell: A necessity for poetry lovers, Simic’s work will not disappoint.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is 666.

We Need to Talk About Kevin
Lionel Shriver

Like everything I review, I finished We Need to Talk About Kevin awhile ago, and have been pondering the book ever since. Usually this delay allows me to understand what I really think about a book and gives me a clear idea on the review I want to write.

In this case, I am still as bewildered by this book as I was after immediately finishing it, so this review will be somewhat of an adventure as I learn my thoughts along with you. At different times during my reading of it, I hated each and every character (save one) and I vacillated between hating what might be deemed the “feminism” of the book and nodding my head in agreement. After having read it, I no longer want to murder anyone, mostly because I find them too unbelievable to merit any strong emotions whatsoever.

We Need to Talk About Kevin is told through a series of letters from Eva to her estranged husband, Franklin. Eva is cosmopolitan, loves traveling, hates America, and is a bleeding-heart liberal. Franklin (his name suggests that stolid forefather known for pithy statements about fish and visitors and other important stuff) is just like good ol’ Ben: he truly adores America (the idea of it, anyway) and he is as stereotypically American as Eva is not. Franklin sees no reason to explore other countries when there is so much of his own nation he’s yet to discover. He’s a staunch Republican, and, in a novel that takes place in the wake of the Gore/Bush election, the two find much to debate.

For some ungodly reason, these two kindred spirits are married. Even though neither want children, as time passes, they think, “Well, what the hell else are we going to do?” and have a child. Never mind that not having anything better to do is hardly a reason to procreate, but whatever. Let’s not worry about our exploding population. We can cram as many humans as possible on this rock.

no worries!

So, even though they are hardly spring chickens anymore, and despite not even really wanting a child herself, Eva gets pregnant. As CEO of her own company, Eva hardly believes that having a child will have a major effect on her career. DUH. We Need to Talk About Kevin illustrates how much a woman must sacrifice when it comes to motherhood, which is perhaps what earned it its “feminist” label. Of course, Eva is dismayed to realize that she cannot just run off and wander the globe now that she’s a mother to Kevin.

And that’s why you don’t have a child just because there isn’t anything better to do with your spare time.

And now we get to Kevin. For his part, Kevin is painted as The Omen’s Damien from day one. He’s evil, I tell you. He won’t breastfeed. Of course, many women have this problem but NO. Kevin is EVIL. And as he gets older, he won’t shit in the toilet. Why? Kevin is at war with his mother. And so on, and so on. Of course it’s no surprise that Kevin will one day kill eleven people in a Columbine-like rampage.

What could be wrong with our child?
We're the beautiful people, aren't we?

This rampage, of which we’re aware from page one, would be much more believable if Kevin were not Damien, for if he were, aren’t the tell-tale signs OBVIOUS??? Of course, Eva sees them since the breastfeeding days, not that she does anything. In her favor, she can’t, since Franklin is so convinced of his son’s angelic qualities that he refuses to believe anything bad about his son, believing instead that Eva is jealous and resentful of her son. But if Eva were so truly convinced her son was the devil and her husband a blind asshole who denies the obvious truth, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, dammit. At the very least, pick up and leave (abandoning her family would make more sense to those who read more about Kevin’s “evilness”).

Eva’s letters, then, attempt to trace Kevin’s development and his reason for killing his peers in school. Again, this development would be more believable if Kevin weren’t evil from birth. Of course, it is possible our narrator is highly unreliable, and perceives normal actions as evil. But I don’t think that’s Shriver’s intent here.

Gripes aside, I still enjoyed We Need to Talk About Kevin. It sucked me in and kept me interested. But I wouldn’t allow this book to persuade me on anything, since every character is so far-fetched that any relevance to my life is safely impossible. There were, however, several surprises that I didn’t see coming and which made for an interesting read.

In a nutshell: An introspective look into what turns a child into a murderer. Interesting, if not wholly believable.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3.5 out of 6 stars

The return of Dick

Four Novels of the 1960s
Philip K. Dick

Welcome to Part Two of Philip K. Dick, featuring Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? and Ubik. As I warned in my last post, there is far more to them; mere summary simply does not suffice. It is impossible to explain every aspect of these novels, and there is much that is interesting that I cannot mention here. If you’re curious, you’ll simply have to go read them for yourself.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is the third novel in this collection, and I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it based on the few minutes of Blade Runner I’ve glimpsed over the years. I needn’t have worried. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? follows Rick Deckard, an android bounty hunter, as he takes down robots who have illegally landed on Earth. Androids are legal in space colonies, where they serve as servants for each emigrant family; but on Earth, which has been partially destroyed by fallout from a nuclear war, they must be put down. Few people remain on Earth; those who do choose to remain for financial or emotional reasons, or are forced by the government to stay because they have been too badly mutated by the fallout (those unfortunates are labeled “chickenheads” due to their diminished intelligence).

alrighty then

Androids often choose certain death on Earth (versus stability in the colonies) in order to, of course, experience freedom. Although appearing identical to humans, there are certain tests (involving emotion and empathy) which can prove the presence of an android. I could go on (and on) but needless to say, Dick uses this situation to pose a question that has become more relevant today than when it was written forty years ago: What is human? Are androids human if they are able to feel emotion? And if so, do they have the same basic right to life that humans enjoy? What about when people cannot feel emotion? Does that make them less-than-human? To whom does the right to freedom belong?

In case you were wondering, the title refers to the desire for animals that each person on Earth feels: nuclear war has eradicated many forms of life; all animals have become endangered, and many are outright extinct. Owning an animal has become one’s duty to society; those who do not own animals are frowned upon. Unfortunately it is difficult to keep animals alive in such an environment, so one might purchase a robotic (or “electric”) animal to keep up appearances. Ironically, many people, including Deckard, love these robotic animals despite feeling an aversion to their more human counterparts.

Like Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Ubik also has you questioning what is real, but in an entirely different way than every other novel in this collection. It started off slowly, but once I finally got into it, I couldn’t put it down. It centers on a group of people with psychic talents who work for a “prudence organization,” a company (owned by Glen Runciter) whose employees block the psychic powers of others. Runciter’s enemy is Ray Hollis, who has his own group of psychics.

Sidenote: Runciter runs the company in part by seeking the advice of his wife, Ella, who died years ago. It is possible for the dead to remain for a period of several years in a state of “half-life” in cryogenic suspension before dying entirely. A person in cryogenic suspension is able to communicate with loved ones who frequent the moratoriums that store the deceased.

Back to the plot. Runciter’s company is hired by a wealthy businessman to counteract a psychic infringing on his business. Runciter takes several of his best psychics to attend to the problem. Unfortunately, it’s a trap. A bomb explosion kills Runciter without harming the others, who rush back to Earth to place him in cryogenic suspension.

So Runciter is dead and the rest are alive. Or, wait: is it the reverse? Nothing is as it seems in Dick’s worlds, and Ubik is no different. Soon the remaining psychics experience shifts in reality, regressing to earlier times. They discover fresh milk that has already soured, money in their pockets which bears the face of Glen Runciter. Then, one by one, the psychics start to die. Are these phenomena the result of the explosion? The result of the talents of Pat Conley (a psychic with a new anti-psi talent: the ability to change the past)? Or something else entirely? And what the hell is this Ubik we’ve been hearing so much about?

In a nutshell: Dick is fun. I think. Maybe I only think it's Dick. Maybe what I believe to be the work of Philip K. Dick is really the result of -- just kidding.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars

The lemon meringue of plague fiction

Year of Wonders
Geraldine Brooks

Because Year of Wonders received so much attention and was so highly acclaimed by some reviewers, I approached it with the trepidation usually reserved for such “vividly imagined and strangely consoling tales” (as praised by O, The Oprah Magazine).

Let me say right off the bat that there is much in the novel that doesn’t make any historical sense and many scenes veer dangerously into utter silliness (especially the closer one comes to the end). Anyone who wants a serious account of the plague that ravaged Europe should probably stay away from this book. And yet, I must admit that I enjoyed it; at about 300 pages, I read Year of Wonders in a day and didn’t notice the hours slipping by. I don’t feel compelled to read anything else by Geraldine Brooks, but this book helped me pass an enjoyable Saturday afternoon, and that deserves a smile and nod at the very least.

Year of Wonders describes one town’s encounter with the bubonic plague. As it becomes clear that plague is beginning to pick off family and friends, those who have not yet fallen ill must decide whether to remain or flee. Fleeing is a dubious prospect at best – there is little hope that they will be accepted in another village once a plague outbreak has become known. And yet what of the decision to stay behind? For most it means almost certain death. The villagers ultimately decide to quarantine themselves to protect others from the dreaded disease. (This situation is historical fact, as the novel is based on the events which occurred in the village of Eyam during the seventeenth century.) Of course, Brooks fictionalizes things a bit -- and that's where things get a little ... hairy.

Year of Wonders strives to emulate Camus’ Plague, as those who remain behind must face their own worst fears, and in doing so must choose to act morally or not. Some steep themselves in drink, lust, and even witchcraft; others toil for the good of all, regardless of the risk to themselves; still others seek to appease the vengeance of a wrathful god.

whipeth it goode

Year of Wonders, unfortunately, does not meet the standard set by Camus in 1947, for in reading Camus one doesn't think, "Well now that's the silliest shit I've read in awhile." The reader is likely to think this about Year of Wonders, especially because the heroine is simply too modern for her time. For her part, the narrator, Anna Frith, is a heroine right out of Camus (nevermind, of course, that his philosophy would never have occurred to a woman of Anna's standing in the seventeenth century). Her family is one of the first victims of the plague, and despite having lost everything, she does not give in to despair.

Anna is the maid for the town’s reverend, Michael Mompellion, and even though she is a servant Mrs. Mompellion befriends her and even teaches her to read. Anna is quite ahead of her time (almost absurdly so), for she is intelligent, frowns upon both the superstitious and superreligious, and is capable of doing and learning much that a peasant woman would not have been (like Latin, midwifing, herbology, mining, horse taming and more ... all in less than a year).

Some reviewers have seen Anna’s personality as the central flaw of the book; it’s as though Anna is a twenty-first-century woman forced to endure a seventeenth-century plague outbreak. I, however, didn’t really notice this problem during my reading. I was more discouraged by the end of the novel, when (and I won’t spoil anything here) there are a few scenes of passionate sex that really didn’t fit either the tone or the events of the preceding 280 pages.

The novel contains other flaws, most of them involving what seems to be a poor understanding of the seventeenth-century mindset. I'm not trashing Year of Wonders, however, since it was a quick, interesting read that helped pass a hot Saturday, but it is not something that I’d read a second time, nor am I likely to seek more by this author.

In a nutshell: Light and fluffy, Year of Wonders is the lemon meringue of plague fiction. If you want something of more solid substance, stick with Camus.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

Don't Believe the Hype: unSpun

unSpun
Brooks Jackson and Kathleen Hall Jamieson

Like manna from heaven, unSpun arrived at my doorstep, unordered and unexpected. Who sent me an unsolicited book? The package contained neither return address nor receipt. Believe it or not, such a phenomenon has occurred before, when I unexpectedly received a short-story collection in the mail. To this day, both mysteries remain unsolved, but far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

unSpun discusses the wealth of disinformation available in today’s media. The authors, the founders of FactCheck.org, point out how both Republicans and Democrats (and especially major corporations) all use disinformation to their advantage; they also explain the psychology of spin, or the tendency to believe those “facts” that coincide with pre-formed beliefs and to reject that which does not. Finally, the authors show us how to recognize spin and find correct information.

Manna, apparently

In a nutshell: unSpun is quite informative; everyone can benefit from having read it. Not a "fun" read, though.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars