On the surface, The Lovely Bones sounds like it's going to be a very depressing book; thirteen year old Suzie Salmon is raped and murdered, and watches her family from the afterlife. And while the first part of the book is just as bad as you'd imagine with that premise, it grows into a beautiful story as her family rebuilds (eventually, and mostly) from the tragedy.
I'd heard the title of the book bounced around for a long time before I actually read it, and it well deserves the popularity. It's essentially a book about people; the characters are correspondingly well developed, and their individual stories are lovingly and compassionately told.
One thing that I had fun with in the book was comparing Sebold's version of the afterlife with C.S. Lewis' from The Great Divorce. (Minor spoiler warning) In his version, purgatory and hell are the same place, a gray dreary zone where you can have any material possession you want simply by wishing for it, but where nothing material brings joy. In Lovely Bones, Suzie's personal heaven is like a more cheerful version of Lewis' purgatory -- bright and cheerful, where you can make anything happen simply by desiring it. But Suzie's real desire is for her family, and the joys of her personal heaven seem to be only pleasant distractions. I thought the similarities between a Christian's fiction of purgatory/hell and a secularist's fiction of heaven were interesting, but kind of sad for Suzie.
It isn't until much later in the book that we learn Suzie's personal "heaven" is not the final destination--only a stopping place for her to heal and develop before she can join her grandparents and (we assume) all the other souls in 'true heaven'. That revelation in the story brought tears to my eyes. It was beautiful, a vision of purgatory (even though the word was never used and probably wasn't intended, that's exactly what was going on) that didn't revolve around the punitive, dark version so often imagined, but is based on healing and cleansing for a soul before reaching its final destination.
End theological aside
Anyway, a very good book, highly recommended!
Labels: fiction
Still reading Twilight :-p Not too much new to comment on for this one, other than a further observation on what's appealing about the books: the series is essentially a fanfiction of itself. (I feel like the term incestuous applies here, but in the interests of making this a quick post, won't try too hard to work it in)
This volume in particular seems to be extremely indulgent with its readers; every scene you want to see, every exchange between the romantic rivals, every vindictive, humorous, and romantic element is fully drawn out, sometimes painfully so, in a way that's usually only found when fans run wild with their favorite characters. Maybe that's common in the modern romance novel? Or is it unique to this series? Do I care enough to do the research myself? No. :-p
I don't know if I've ever read a Dickens novel that I didn't like, and Nicholas Nickleby is no exception. It's Dicken's third novel and has a much more continuous, cohesive story than Pickwick Papers, but it isn't quite as funny or light-hearted. If you're trying Dickens for the first time, I'd say this isn't a bad place to start.
I'd love to write more, but my backlog of reviews is growing, so these next few are going to be pretty short :-/
Labels: classics
Continuing with the Twilight series, I'd say this second book is a actually a tiny bit better than the first, but still continues the original's fine traditions of melodrama and the tone of a dime-store romance novel. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that the advantage is due to Edward's disappearance for about 75% of the book, a happy coincidence that is unlikely to occur again in the series. To be fair, Edward himself isn't quite that bad, but Bella's constant gushing and mooning is.
So, if all I'm going to do is complain about how bad these books are, why do I bother reading them at all? That's the frustrating part: despite the horrible writing and painful romance scenes, I found myself looking forward to this book, and once started, it was hard to put down. That in itself leads a secondary motive for continuing--trying to figure out what causes this effect. I feel like I'm watching both myself and the books under a microscope the whole time, trying to dissect the magic that's made them so popular.
I have noticed a few things. For starters, the non-romantic dialogue can be quite amusing from time to time, not just the so-bad-its-funny stuff. Also, Meyer really knows how to build up a scene: you'll know what's going to happen, and you'll be looking forward to it (or dreading it, sometimes), but she plays the anticipation game, drawing it out and putting you on the edge of your seat. The werewolf/vampire contrast makes things kind of interesting too, and several of the characters tend to grow on you after awhile.
Lookit me, I finally said some nice things about the series!
This book was another one that I picked up used because it was a title I'd never heard from a famous author. I loved Kipling's stories while I was growing up, and although The Light that Failed is very different from his adventure stories, Kipling's captivating storytelling and compelling voice comes through in full force.
The story is a romance between a young war correspondent who returns to England to find that the artwork he'd been sending home for the last few years has received moderate fame, and his childhood sweetheart who is herself an aspiring artist.
I made the mistake of looking the novel up on Wikipedia before I'd finished it, and reading the plot synopsis of an old movie adaptation. The ending described by the article was even more depressing than the book's title had lead me to expect, so I picked up the novel to finish with a heavy heart. Luckily, however, the book's ending was, although similar to the movie, much less depressing and more uplifting, so that'll teach me to wander around Wikipedia with more caution.
Overall, a very enjoyable little novel that I'd recommend to anyone with a fondness for Kipling.
Finally finished! Its kind of sad when that's the first impression I have of finishing a series. But that's honestly about right. By the fifth book the beauty and novelty of the setting has begun to lose its effect, and as I discovered awhile ago, the story isn't particularly interesting and the characters tend heavily towards annoying.
Although I appreciate that Lian Hearn gives her Hero the full classical/archetypal treatment, I think I've realized why Takeo in particular is such an annoying character. He's basically a perfect 21st century man, with social, mental, and moral outlooks and attitudes that are extremely modern. He'd be a paragon of politically correct virtue in any book set in the 21st century, but is jarringly out of place in feudal Japan, even fantasy feudal 'not-really-Japan-at-all-we-promise'.
To be fair, his rather unique upbringing gives him good reason to hold views that do not match his time, but it just seems all too convenient and contrived. * shrug * Maybe that was the whole point of the book, and I'd be more forgiving if those coincidentally modern morals aligned more closely with my own. Any dissenting opinions are welcome :-p
Labels: fantasy, Tales of the Otori
Yep, I did it. I finally gave in and read the latest fangirl craze that's spawning all the vampire-themed novels, movies and TV shows. Despite the tepid to horrified reviews I'd heard, despite the fact that I've always considered vampire stuff to be rather silly, and despite the creep-out factor I get every time Robert Pattinson shows up on posters and magazine covers, I gave it a try.
Somewhat to my surprise, therefore, Twilight wasn't quite as painful as I expected. Granted, that was partially because it was often so bad that it broke through to hilarious. But not completely.
The story itself isn't bad at all, good enough to have me looking forward to the next book. It's cliched, of course, but stories become cliche for a reason. The secondary characters are well done, and I might even like the two main characters if they weren't so cursed annoying.
Unfortunately, the core of an engaging world and a decent story is destroyed by terrible, horrible, no-good prose and narrative voice. I blame a very large part of this on the first-person point of view. First of all, the main effect of a brooding Byronic hero is destroyed when you only see him from his lover's point of view--Bella only see the good in Edward, which is as it should be. The reader is supposed to see the torment, angst and eventual triumph of good over evil or whatever, but because we only see through Bella's eyes, there's no real development of the duality. Second, you can tell us that Edward is a very good looking guy the first time we meet him, and then maybe once more as the relationship really gets going, but after that we'll remember, I promise. You don't have to remind us in every single paragraph for the remainder of the book. And finally, if you're going to build up to a dramatic rescue and crazy vampire fight as the climax of the book, don't make your only POV character unconscious for the vast majority of it. That was a big disappointment >_<
I could go on, but as I mentioned earlier I liked the book enough to continue the series, so there's really no point in picking it apart bit by bit. One more thing I'd like to share though--one of those so-bad-it's-funny moments:
Ever since these books have hit it big, I've been seeing derrogatory references to "sparkly" vampires--often comparing the Twilight variety to the real bad-boys of modern vampire lore. I just assumed that it was just a way of saying that the Twilight brand were wussy little vampires, too pretty and sweet to deserve the name. Nope, silly me :-p Meyer's vampires quite literally sparkle in the sunlight, as if they had crystalline skin o_O
Really? Sparkles?
