I had a lazy weekend. I've been tired, as I've been working a lot lately, mostly from home, and trying flesh out appellate issues while wrangling the boys is exhausting.
So, this weekend being mother's day weekend and all, I figured no one would mind if I just lazed about reading. Right? Right. (Sorry, honey.) So, I finished Your Witness, Feeding the Hungry Heart and Things I've learned from Women Who've Dumped Me.
Your Witness was a quick read, and educational as well as entertaining. Only lawyers would enjoy reading other lawyer's war stories, but I found it to have some good advice, too. It was funny, but again, I think only because I've been there done that.
Feeding the Hungry Heart was a really quick read, and I found that I didn't enjoy it as much as When Food is Love. It just didn't seem as in depth or as insightful.
Things I've Learned from Women Who've Dumped Me was a book my husband bought for himself, but I took it and read it in an hour or so. It was hilarious. It was great insight into the mind of men, which I find is always helpful. It made me appreciate my husband, too, and remind me why I'm so glad I'm not single and that, even if he doesn't understand where the dishwasher is or how to use it, he's still an awesome guy.
I'm down 11 now, 89 to go. I have got some serious reading to do to finish this challenge, but even if I don't make it, I will have read quite a bit this year, which is never a bad thing.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Catch-Up
I have been crazy busy lately, so I took a break from reading books, and instead was reading transcripts, police reports, etc. for work. All the reading I do at work sometimes makes me have to take a break and home, but recently I've been back at it.
In the past couple months, I have finished the following: Shanghai Girls, by Lisa See; You're a Horrible Person, but I Like You; When Food is Love, by Geneen Roth. I have started some other books (yes, I'm one of those people who reads multiple things at once.).
I am currently reading: Three Cups of Tea; Your Witness; and multiple books by Geneen Roth (hello, uncomfortable sharing of my personal life).
I enjoyed Shanghai Girls, for the most part. I thought it was overwrought in some parts, and went on a little too long, but it was a quick read and kept my interest. I don't have a sister, so the dynamics of the sisterly relationship have always held interest for me. I also enjoyed reading about Shanghai in the 20's. I have been to some of the places in the book when I lived in China, and it was fun to read about them and picture them in my mind, as they might have been 80 years ago.
You're a Horrible Person, But I Like You was funny. I literally laughed out loud a few times. It was a super quick read, nice and mindless, which is just what you need sometimes to take a mental break. I actualy bought it for my husband, because it looked like something he would enjoy, but I brought it home, showed it to him and proceeded to read it. He still hasn't read it. Ingrate.
Geneen Roths' books are fabulous. Without going into too much personal stuff and turning this blog into my own private therapy session, I find them to be well-written and pretty spot on.
I think I'm up to seven now. Only 93 to go! Woot! Yeah. I better get on it.
In the past couple months, I have finished the following: Shanghai Girls, by Lisa See; You're a Horrible Person, but I Like You; When Food is Love, by Geneen Roth. I have started some other books (yes, I'm one of those people who reads multiple things at once.).
I am currently reading: Three Cups of Tea; Your Witness; and multiple books by Geneen Roth (hello, uncomfortable sharing of my personal life).
I enjoyed Shanghai Girls, for the most part. I thought it was overwrought in some parts, and went on a little too long, but it was a quick read and kept my interest. I don't have a sister, so the dynamics of the sisterly relationship have always held interest for me. I also enjoyed reading about Shanghai in the 20's. I have been to some of the places in the book when I lived in China, and it was fun to read about them and picture them in my mind, as they might have been 80 years ago.
You're a Horrible Person, But I Like You was funny. I literally laughed out loud a few times. It was a super quick read, nice and mindless, which is just what you need sometimes to take a mental break. I actualy bought it for my husband, because it looked like something he would enjoy, but I brought it home, showed it to him and proceeded to read it. He still hasn't read it. Ingrate.
Geneen Roths' books are fabulous. Without going into too much personal stuff and turning this blog into my own private therapy session, I find them to be well-written and pretty spot on.
I think I'm up to seven now. Only 93 to go! Woot! Yeah. I better get on it.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Books Two-Four Done
This week, I read The Biggest Loser 30-Day Jump Start, and the Biggest Loser Simple Swaps . I also read Late Talking Children.
The Biggest Loser books were quick reads, but I am counting them. I also purchased them, but oh well. Really, the goal is to read more, and so they count. I also got them at a good price, and they are helping me in my seemingly never-ending quest to lose weight, so it's all good.
I enjoyed the tips, but found the tone a little annoying. I have been thin and in shape and healthy, so the books came across a little pedantic to me, but I think it's because they are geared towards people who are total newbs to fitness/eating healthy and don't know where to start. They are motivating, though, and full of great recipes. I also like that they advocate clean eating, i.e. no processed foods, no "white stuff", lots of whole grains, fresh fruit and veggies, etc. I think this is important information that a lot of programs ignore. I have done Weight Watchers, and I generally like it, but I don't like the food products they sell (waaaay too processed) and I don't think they emphasize enough that all calories are not created equal.
For that reason, I would recommend the books.
Late Talking Children was sent to me by my father-in-law, as I have a 2 year old who is not speaking yet. He's such a smart kid. He can understand complex commands, and has an amazing memory. He will point to objects in a book, and wait for you to tell him what it is. If you get it wrong, he gets upset by grunting, looking at you, and pointing again. He knows. He has done this for some time, so he's been processing these things.
Last night, he was watching TV and saw a police officer. He immediately pointed to my husband's Kevlar vest which hangs on a hook. He then pointed to daddy's flashlight and other cop stuff that stays by our front door. He makes these connections.
The author also had a late talking child, who he also knew to be very bright. The book chronicles his frustations with finding an answer and a "cure." He also tells the stories of other parents who contacted him after he published a newspaper article about his son. The anecdotal information he collected is amazing--the similarities between these children and what many of the children have gone on to become is enough to give hope to me about my son.
The author found that many of these kids (most of whom are boys) go on to excel in areas like math and science, and that many of them have relatives who are engineers, mathematicians or musicians (or related fields). What's fascinating to me is that 1) my father is an engineer and so is my father-in-law. My grandfather was also an engineer. My mother-in-law is a musician, as was my husband. My brother, also a late-talker, is absolutely brilliant and works with computers (another field that many of these kids excel in).
I felt I was reading about my son. Many of the characteristics fit him to a T. But what was sad is that the families and the kids struggled so much--too many false diagnoses of autism, too many teachers who don't care, don't have time to care, or don't know what to do to help, too many doctors who, because they don't know what is going on, can't help. A sad commentary on the state of our educational system and our medical system.
The book, also a quick read, gave me hope, but steeled me for a long fight against the system with my son. It's both a story of hope and a cautionary tale, but I'm thankful that I read it. The best advice from the book, to paraphrase: let go, go with the flow, but be your child's best advocate. Seems like common sense, but at times it can be difficult dealing with a child who cannot communicate with you and it wears on you. It can be maddening having to explain to people who give you the "what's wrong with him?" look, or ask about him. It's hard on siblings. It's hard on the child themselves sometimes. It's hard to try to convey to drs, grandparents, etc. that 1) it's not something I did, 2) he's not just defiant or lazy 3) he's not retarded 4) it's not because I'm overly permissive 5) it's not because I had a homebirth with a midwife.
So, thanks Thomas Sowell. Your book was more helpful than anything we have done in the last six months and I am filled with a renewed since of hope, love and patience for my baby boy.
The Biggest Loser books were quick reads, but I am counting them. I also purchased them, but oh well. Really, the goal is to read more, and so they count. I also got them at a good price, and they are helping me in my seemingly never-ending quest to lose weight, so it's all good.
I enjoyed the tips, but found the tone a little annoying. I have been thin and in shape and healthy, so the books came across a little pedantic to me, but I think it's because they are geared towards people who are total newbs to fitness/eating healthy and don't know where to start. They are motivating, though, and full of great recipes. I also like that they advocate clean eating, i.e. no processed foods, no "white stuff", lots of whole grains, fresh fruit and veggies, etc. I think this is important information that a lot of programs ignore. I have done Weight Watchers, and I generally like it, but I don't like the food products they sell (waaaay too processed) and I don't think they emphasize enough that all calories are not created equal.
For that reason, I would recommend the books.
Late Talking Children was sent to me by my father-in-law, as I have a 2 year old who is not speaking yet. He's such a smart kid. He can understand complex commands, and has an amazing memory. He will point to objects in a book, and wait for you to tell him what it is. If you get it wrong, he gets upset by grunting, looking at you, and pointing again. He knows. He has done this for some time, so he's been processing these things.
Last night, he was watching TV and saw a police officer. He immediately pointed to my husband's Kevlar vest which hangs on a hook. He then pointed to daddy's flashlight and other cop stuff that stays by our front door. He makes these connections.
The author also had a late talking child, who he also knew to be very bright. The book chronicles his frustations with finding an answer and a "cure." He also tells the stories of other parents who contacted him after he published a newspaper article about his son. The anecdotal information he collected is amazing--the similarities between these children and what many of the children have gone on to become is enough to give hope to me about my son.
The author found that many of these kids (most of whom are boys) go on to excel in areas like math and science, and that many of them have relatives who are engineers, mathematicians or musicians (or related fields). What's fascinating to me is that 1) my father is an engineer and so is my father-in-law. My grandfather was also an engineer. My mother-in-law is a musician, as was my husband. My brother, also a late-talker, is absolutely brilliant and works with computers (another field that many of these kids excel in).
I felt I was reading about my son. Many of the characteristics fit him to a T. But what was sad is that the families and the kids struggled so much--too many false diagnoses of autism, too many teachers who don't care, don't have time to care, or don't know what to do to help, too many doctors who, because they don't know what is going on, can't help. A sad commentary on the state of our educational system and our medical system.
The book, also a quick read, gave me hope, but steeled me for a long fight against the system with my son. It's both a story of hope and a cautionary tale, but I'm thankful that I read it. The best advice from the book, to paraphrase: let go, go with the flow, but be your child's best advocate. Seems like common sense, but at times it can be difficult dealing with a child who cannot communicate with you and it wears on you. It can be maddening having to explain to people who give you the "what's wrong with him?" look, or ask about him. It's hard on siblings. It's hard on the child themselves sometimes. It's hard to try to convey to drs, grandparents, etc. that 1) it's not something I did, 2) he's not just defiant or lazy 3) he's not retarded 4) it's not because I'm overly permissive 5) it's not because I had a homebirth with a midwife.
So, thanks Thomas Sowell. Your book was more helpful than anything we have done in the last six months and I am filled with a renewed since of hope, love and patience for my baby boy.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Book One--Done!
I told Steve about my challenged, and he laughed when I told him my first book was a YA book. Whatevs, Steve. Hey, I think reading 100 books in a year is awesome, and if some of those happen to be books for a younger reader, I don't see the harm. I told him that it can be any book, as long as I read it cover to cover.
And if someone doesn't like it, they don't have to do my challenge. (Steve.)
I finished the Lightning Thief. Our daughter got it for Christmas, and it looked interesting. I have seen the commercials for the movies, and I'm a big Harry Potter fan, so, why not?
The book was a quick read (I'd hope--since it's for kids!). It really can't compare to Harry Potter. Those books are just so amazingly well-written that it's not fair to compare. This book was okay. I think that a lot of kids are sort of fascinated by Ancient Greece and Greek gods (or maybe that was just me? coughcoughdorkcoughcough) and this book caters to that. It's an interesting story, but I really felt like it was sort of a rip-off from Harry Potter (half-blood kid, goes away to a special school, is a hero, etc.), and it just wasn't as well written.
I didn't really like the main character that much, and didn't feel that I became attached to him, either. I think it just needed more character development.
I'm guessing, though, that the target audience enjoys it. My daughter has the rest of the books in the series, and I started reading the second to see how the characters and plot line develops--it might get better.
Next up--two books in the Biggest Loser series of books. And yes, Steve, I am counting them, even though they contain lots of pictures and recipes. And yes, I cheated and bought them.
And if someone doesn't like it, they don't have to do my challenge. (Steve.)
I finished the Lightning Thief. Our daughter got it for Christmas, and it looked interesting. I have seen the commercials for the movies, and I'm a big Harry Potter fan, so, why not?
The book was a quick read (I'd hope--since it's for kids!). It really can't compare to Harry Potter. Those books are just so amazingly well-written that it's not fair to compare. This book was okay. I think that a lot of kids are sort of fascinated by Ancient Greece and Greek gods (or maybe that was just me? coughcoughdorkcoughcough) and this book caters to that. It's an interesting story, but I really felt like it was sort of a rip-off from Harry Potter (half-blood kid, goes away to a special school, is a hero, etc.), and it just wasn't as well written.
I didn't really like the main character that much, and didn't feel that I became attached to him, either. I think it just needed more character development.
I'm guessing, though, that the target audience enjoys it. My daughter has the rest of the books in the series, and I started reading the second to see how the characters and plot line develops--it might get better.
Next up--two books in the Biggest Loser series of books. And yes, Steve, I am counting them, even though they contain lots of pictures and recipes. And yes, I cheated and bought them.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
2010's Challenge--100 books in a Year
Steve's not too much into a reading challenge this year, so I guess I'm just challenging myself.
I had three that I was interested in: 100 books challenge (read 100 books in a year), the support your library challenge, and the TBR challenged (reading books you bought but never read.) I couldn't decide, so I decided I could easily combine them.
So, I am going to read 100 books. The plan is not to buy a single book, but to instead utilize the library, or a book I already bought and never read.
It doesn't matter what kind of books they are for them to count. Might as well make it easier on myself!
With that, my first book is going to be a book my daughter just bought, The Lightning Thief. Yes, it's a YA book, but again, any book counts. I'll post back with my review.
I had three that I was interested in: 100 books challenge (read 100 books in a year), the support your library challenge, and the TBR challenged (reading books you bought but never read.) I couldn't decide, so I decided I could easily combine them.
So, I am going to read 100 books. The plan is not to buy a single book, but to instead utilize the library, or a book I already bought and never read.
It doesn't matter what kind of books they are for them to count. Might as well make it easier on myself!
With that, my first book is going to be a book my daughter just bought, The Lightning Thief. Yes, it's a YA book, but again, any book counts. I'll post back with my review.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Losers
It's sad we can't finish a reading challenge. I like to think it's because we have such incredibly rich, full lives, but really we are just lazy. We start out gung-ho, and then just stop. We got halfway through last year's challenge, and were enjoying it, so I don't really know what happened.
I don't even have the excuse of my job anymore, because I don't have it anymore!!
This year we are going to finish it. Seriously.
Steve is picking the theme, and then we will pick our books. I'm looking forward to it.
I don't even have the excuse of my job anymore, because I don't have it anymore!!
This year we are going to finish it. Seriously.
Steve is picking the theme, and then we will pick our books. I'm looking forward to it.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Year of Reading Dangerously
We are going to join in this challenge: http://dangerouslychallenge.blogspot.com/.
The rules are: Read 12 books you deem "dangerous." between January 1st and December 31st 2009. They may be banned or challenged books, new-to-you genres, books that seem to inhabit a permanent space on your stacks, or authors you're afraid of.
We're obviously starting a little late, but hey, that's how we do it around here.
Steve and I will come up with a list. He'll be thrilled, I can tell you that much, because I can guarantee that I will pick either (maybe both!) Faulkner or Joyce (Ulysses, anyone? I mean, seriously, has anyone actually finished it?) How much more dangerous could it get?
We could also pick Mein Kampf, and get it from the library, thus testing that old story you'd hear about if you checked it out of the library, your name went on some government list somewhere.
Oh, the possibilities are endless.
The rules are: Read 12 books you deem "dangerous." between January 1st and December 31st 2009. They may be banned or challenged books, new-to-you genres, books that seem to inhabit a permanent space on your stacks, or authors you're afraid of.
We're obviously starting a little late, but hey, that's how we do it around here.
Steve and I will come up with a list. He'll be thrilled, I can tell you that much, because I can guarantee that I will pick either (maybe both!) Faulkner or Joyce (Ulysses, anyone? I mean, seriously, has anyone actually finished it?) How much more dangerous could it get?
We could also pick Mein Kampf, and get it from the library, thus testing that old story you'd hear about if you checked it out of the library, your name went on some government list somewhere.
Oh, the possibilities are endless.
We Suck.
Well, life got the better of us. Monique had two bajillion trials over the course of a few months, and Steve started working again, and the kids, well, they were the kids. We just sort of gave up. I think Steve actually read quite a few of the other books on the list, and Monique started the Big Sleep, and was enjoying it, but we never got it together.
We'll start afresh in '09. We clearly won't do a book a month, since it's now February, but I'm sure we'll come up with something, and we'll post the list.
Well, life got the better of us. Monique had two bajillion trials over the course of a few months, and Steve started working again, and the kids, well, they were the kids. We just sort of gave up. I think Steve actually read quite a few of the other books on the list, and Monique started the Big Sleep, and was enjoying it, but we never got it together.
We'll start afresh in '09. We clearly won't do a book a month, since it's now February, but I'm sure we'll come up with something, and we'll post the list.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Better Late Than Never, Unless You Have To Read My Drivel
Let me just say that I am thrilled to be out of the literary morass of the '70s, '80s and '90s. I was excited to be reading Steinbeck, excited to be reading The Winter of Our Discontent, a legitimate classic, and double-excited that my wife didn't force some Timothy Leary/Ken Kesey Generation of Love crap down my gullett. Hurray for dodging bullets!
Anyway, like Monique wrote over a month ago (sorry to our loyal throngs), TWOD was just an outstanding book, without a doubt the best we've read in our little challenge thus far. I had a little trouble getting into it at first, possibly because the bulk of my reading is done in 10-minute increments while sitting on the pot. But by the time I got 30 pages in, I was hooked. I found myself eating a lot more fiber. Get it? Yeah, you get it.
I have a bit of a fictional man-crush on the protagonist, Ethan Hawley, the latest patriarch of a crumbled New England aristocracy. He's fallen on hard times, having lost the last of the family fortune in a failed grocery business, where he now works for the new owner, an Italian gentleman who is constanly referred to by your choice of ethnic slurs. Ethan's lovely wife and children keep asking him when they're going to be rich again; the town whore has her sights set on him; and his best friend is about 250 pages away from drinking himself to death. Basically, things are at their worst, but Ethan is still able to conjur lots of biting sarcasm and pithy quips. My hero.
The book revolves around Ethan's attempt to regain his family's prominence, and the moral depths to which he is willing to sink to do so. Ethan is a veteran of World War II, and when his convoluted plan is about to take flight, he says that he hopes he can act now as he did in the war: quick, decisive, merciless. He says that having killed men in the war didn't mean that he was a killer, only that he had done what needed to be done. And unlike Monique, I found myself saying, "Rob the bank! Rob the bank!" Because I honestly believed he could do it.
As Ethan plots his success, others around him do the same. His teenage son, Allen, wins an essay contest that he hopes to parlay into television gameshow fame. His is the easy way, which, Allen says, is the only way to do it. Why waste time with hard work if you don't have to? Ethan's daughter, Ellen, has her own nefarious plans regarding Allen's success. Ultimately, Ethan realizes that the fast way is the wrong way. Fortuitously, he doesn't get that until after he's back on the road to prosperity. Or is he? Yeah, he is.
As in all of Steinbeck's writing, the characterization is phenomenal. There wasn't a single character who I could find fault with. Everybody was believable, well-written and well-developed. But that's why Steinbeck is Steinbeck, and I write a half-assed blog about books other people wrote.
Likewise, the plot is remarkable. Again, the buildup is a bit slow for my taste, but overall the storyline is taut and crescendos wonderfully to the climax and denoument without ever wandering or releasing tension. It's really more a storycable, a strong, sleek steel storycable.
Well, that's that. Soon I'll be coming out with a review of Kon-Tiki. Or not.
Anyway, like Monique wrote over a month ago (sorry to our loyal throngs), TWOD was just an outstanding book, without a doubt the best we've read in our little challenge thus far. I had a little trouble getting into it at first, possibly because the bulk of my reading is done in 10-minute increments while sitting on the pot. But by the time I got 30 pages in, I was hooked. I found myself eating a lot more fiber. Get it? Yeah, you get it.
I have a bit of a fictional man-crush on the protagonist, Ethan Hawley, the latest patriarch of a crumbled New England aristocracy. He's fallen on hard times, having lost the last of the family fortune in a failed grocery business, where he now works for the new owner, an Italian gentleman who is constanly referred to by your choice of ethnic slurs. Ethan's lovely wife and children keep asking him when they're going to be rich again; the town whore has her sights set on him; and his best friend is about 250 pages away from drinking himself to death. Basically, things are at their worst, but Ethan is still able to conjur lots of biting sarcasm and pithy quips. My hero.
The book revolves around Ethan's attempt to regain his family's prominence, and the moral depths to which he is willing to sink to do so. Ethan is a veteran of World War II, and when his convoluted plan is about to take flight, he says that he hopes he can act now as he did in the war: quick, decisive, merciless. He says that having killed men in the war didn't mean that he was a killer, only that he had done what needed to be done. And unlike Monique, I found myself saying, "Rob the bank! Rob the bank!" Because I honestly believed he could do it.
As Ethan plots his success, others around him do the same. His teenage son, Allen, wins an essay contest that he hopes to parlay into television gameshow fame. His is the easy way, which, Allen says, is the only way to do it. Why waste time with hard work if you don't have to? Ethan's daughter, Ellen, has her own nefarious plans regarding Allen's success. Ultimately, Ethan realizes that the fast way is the wrong way. Fortuitously, he doesn't get that until after he's back on the road to prosperity. Or is he? Yeah, he is.
As in all of Steinbeck's writing, the characterization is phenomenal. There wasn't a single character who I could find fault with. Everybody was believable, well-written and well-developed. But that's why Steinbeck is Steinbeck, and I write a half-assed blog about books other people wrote.
Likewise, the plot is remarkable. Again, the buildup is a bit slow for my taste, but overall the storyline is taut and crescendos wonderfully to the climax and denoument without ever wandering or releasing tension. It's really more a storycable, a strong, sleek steel storycable.
Well, that's that. Soon I'll be coming out with a review of Kon-Tiki. Or not.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
April by Monique
April was The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck.
I loved this book. I devoured it. I could not stop reading until I was done and then I felt sad and let down because I wanted more.
Steve will do a wonderful summary, I'm sure. Steve's a better writer than I, and I feel kind of tarded when I read his summaries and then read mine. I think he's second guessing his choice of mate. After my embarrassing emotional vomit brought on by my review of Breathing Lessons, he's never really looked at me the same.
So, I will just say that I truly enjoyed the book. I think it's an absolute classic. The book, although written in the sixties, touches on themes relevant today (the economy, immigration, class, addiction, crime and poverty). I felt drawn in, connected to and emotionally invested in the lives of the Hawleys, especially Ethan, the main character. I found myself rooting for him in my mind and I find myself mentally shouting things out to him, "Don't rob the bank!"
What can I say, I'm a huge dork....
I loved this book. I devoured it. I could not stop reading until I was done and then I felt sad and let down because I wanted more.
Steve will do a wonderful summary, I'm sure. Steve's a better writer than I, and I feel kind of tarded when I read his summaries and then read mine. I think he's second guessing his choice of mate. After my embarrassing emotional vomit brought on by my review of Breathing Lessons, he's never really looked at me the same.
So, I will just say that I truly enjoyed the book. I think it's an absolute classic. The book, although written in the sixties, touches on themes relevant today (the economy, immigration, class, addiction, crime and poverty). I felt drawn in, connected to and emotionally invested in the lives of the Hawleys, especially Ethan, the main character. I found myself rooting for him in my mind and I find myself mentally shouting things out to him, "Don't rob the bank!"
What can I say, I'm a huge dork....
Northern Lights
I caught up, and finished February and March's book, and then steamrolled over Steve and finished April's book. Steve is jealous and whiny about it, but I can't help that I read faster than he does.
Soo, Northern Lights. Man, I gotta say, I was expecting so much more. Tim O'Brien is on my short list of favorite authors, and The Things They Carried and If I Die in a Combat Zone are def. two of my all time favorite books. I don't even really enjoy "war" books, but they are just so beautifully written that it's hard not to fall in love with these books.
I was expecting Northern Lights to be not as great, yet somewhat great. Glimmers of greatness, at least. I was bored and I felt like I missed something. I felt like there was a chapter that I skipped that would have provided more of a back story to tie it all together. I just didn't "get" it and when Harvey died in the forest, my first thought was, "What the fuck, Cotton?" Or something like that. It just irritated me for some reason. Then when Paul gave him CPR and brought him back, I was even more irritated and was just over it at that point.
There didn't seem to be a plot. Everything was hinted at, yet never developed. I wanted to like it, really I did. Before I read this book, I would have left my husband for Tim O'Brien. Now, not so much...
Soo, Northern Lights. Man, I gotta say, I was expecting so much more. Tim O'Brien is on my short list of favorite authors, and The Things They Carried and If I Die in a Combat Zone are def. two of my all time favorite books. I don't even really enjoy "war" books, but they are just so beautifully written that it's hard not to fall in love with these books.
I was expecting Northern Lights to be not as great, yet somewhat great. Glimmers of greatness, at least. I was bored and I felt like I missed something. I felt like there was a chapter that I skipped that would have provided more of a back story to tie it all together. I just didn't "get" it and when Harvey died in the forest, my first thought was, "What the fuck, Cotton?" Or something like that. It just irritated me for some reason. Then when Paul gave him CPR and brought him back, I was even more irritated and was just over it at that point.
There didn't seem to be a plot. Everything was hinted at, yet never developed. I wanted to like it, really I did. Before I read this book, I would have left my husband for Tim O'Brien. Now, not so much...
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Northern Lights a la Steve
It's about time I get first crack at reviewing one of these books. In the past, Monique has used up all the good words, leaving me few options except "cramhole." Now it's Steve's turn to shine!
Tim O'Brien made his bones as a writer with his works about the Vietnam war, producing the classics If I Die in a Combat Zone: Box Me Up and Ship Me Home, The Things They Carried and Going After Cacciato. Northern Lights is O'Brien's second book, and his first attempt at fiction. I have read all of O'Brien's other books, with mixed feelings. I found that his writing on Vietnam is riveting, but his other material is not my cup of tea. Some of it feels dated, some is overly ruminative and frankly, some of his later books just bore me. None of his peace-time work excites me at all. So I was interested in Northern Lights, because I thought it might be a good mix of war stuff and civilian stuff.
The blurb on the back of our copy states that the:
"core [of the book] is the relationship between two brothers: one who went to Vietnam and one who stayed home. As the two brothers struggle against an unexpected blizzard in Minnesota's remote north woods, what they discover about themselves and each other will change both of them forever."
This led me to believe that the mass of the book would concern said blizzard. Interesting, no? Possibly crazed vet stuck with peacenik brother in a snowstorm. What's going to happen? Well, I enjoyed that part of the book, which lasted from page 165 to page 313. Roughly 150 pages of good, tense, nail-biting reading. Although the snowstorm didn't actually hit until about page 190. Still not bad.
But the blurb didn't mention the other 210 pages of relationships and love triangles and daddy issues, all of which were alluded to, written of obliquely and left to me to figure out. I generally like that kind of book, but I didn't find O'Brien's characters compelling, except for Harvey, the Vietnam brother, and Addie, Harvey's girlfriend.
Northern Lights focuses on Paul Perry, and much of the book is dedicated to Paul's murky relationship with his doughty wife, Grace. Paul is noncommittal about Grace. He seems satisfied with her, but not especially impressed. He acts as if he wants more, particularly upon Harvey's return from war, but is helpless to enact that change. Paul is often passive-aggressive toward Grace, and O'Brien makes a lot out of Paul's friendship with Addie, the young, exotic librarian/town whore, who falls into Harvey's arms while Paul hems and haws about his own attraction to her.
My recurring complaint about this book begins here. Paul's problems with Grace are never fully examined. They are vaguely alluded to, the results laid out without a reason. O'Brien mentions several times that Paul's father did not fully approve of Grace, but we're never told why. I don't mind reading between the lines; I'm not an idiot. But I looked between the lines, and found the writing to be Latin, or possibly Esperanto.
Paul is similarly apathetic about his government job in the small, dying town of Sawmill Landing. He fell into the job and doesn't enjoy it, but it's his now, and he does it well. He just doesn't really want it. A lot like his wife.
The book begins on the day of Harvey's return from Vietnam, where he lost an eye. We discover quickly that Harvey was the town hero before he went to war, and that he was also his father's hero. Known around the town as "Bull", Harvey was a star athlete and outdoorsman, and basically could no wrong in the small, cloistered community of Sawmill Landing.
Harvey is an intriguing character to me. Because he spent his youth in the limelight, he expects and is given accolades upon his homecoming. The only problem is that Harvey mainly wants to be by himself. He alternately keeps himself hermitted away in his bedroom and demands attention. At any rate, he sinks into alcoholism.
As mentioned above, Harvey sort of stumbles into Addie. Paul's do-nothing approach to the mutual attraction between him and Addie forced her away from him, but being the town whore is what made her take up with Paul's brother. Seriously, who does that? In high school, we had a name for girls who messed around with the brothers and friends of boys who didn't like them as much as they wanted. That word, as you may have guessed, was whore.
But I digress. While Paul balefully observes, Harvey forces his relationship with Addie to be serious. This leads to a lot of familial double-date nights, which nobody but Harvey really wants, but the Bull gets his way. Grace goes along with it gamefully, while Paul and Addie continue to jab and retreat, and Harvey drinks and rolls his dead eye around.
Without detailing every part of the book, let me just say that Addie does some more whoring around, then Harvey shows some chinks in his armor, and next thing you know, Paul and Harvey are lost in a blizzard while cross-country skiing. As I said, this is the good part of the book, tension-wise, and it does cause the brothers to discover things about themselves, as promised.
They do a lot of soul-searching and hashing out their daddy issues. Again, a lot of things are sort of left in the air to make up your own mind about, although not so much as with the Paul and Grace situation. Then Harvey dies. Whaaaaa?!?!?! Don't worry; against all odds, Paul saves the day, gets them out of trouble and Harvey is forced to acknowledge Paul's usefulness. After that, Paul becomes much more decisive about things, Addie takes off to the big city, and everybody is more or less happy. Except Harvey. Oh well.
I like Northern Lights mainly because the theme is easy to pin down. Paul is a wishy-washy nancy boy his entire life. Whenever he is confronted with a decision, he sits on his hands until the decision is made for him. When Paul is unhappy in his marriage and has Addie on his line, he just waits for resolution, hoping either Grace will let him off the hook, or Addie will tear him off the hook. Instead, Addie just drifts away, and rubs it in Paul's face to boot.
Paul's job is more of the same. He putts along at his stale work until he is informed that his office is being closed. Then, instead of being proactive in finding new work, Paul decides to take a little time off to think about it. He's pushed in multiple directions by his wife, brother, even passing acquaintances, so no decision is ever really made.
But after Paul gets a little self-worth, he suddenly works everything out for himself nice and neat. The best part is that Harvey, given circumstances that would knock most men down a few pegs, barely feels a draft. He doesn't really work anything out, but at least he has a grudging respect for his big brother, and he's not dating the town whore anymore, so that had to be some weight off his shoulders.
I'm not thrilled with an ending that presents Paul as completely transformed over a matter of a week or two, but I'm glad that nobody else is that squared off. Harvey is still an unrepentant alcoholic without direction, Grace is still a fearful little titmouse, and Addie's tramping around in St. Paul. That rings true to me, because, as we learned in Breathing Lessons, nobody ever really changes all that much. And I would have been perfectly happy with Paul changing a little, taking more control of himself, and showing the possibility of more change; I just didn't care for his total makeover because of a snowstorm.
I was probably more impressed with Harvey as a character than I would have been if another author had written it, because I feel like there must have been some of O'Brien himself in Harvey. It's a little window into the heart of a damaged veteran that I appreciate. But I think O'Brien comes up short in some of his characterization, particularly with Grace and Addie. Perhaps he just didn't have room to explain them as well as he might, or perhaps, like me, exploring the female mind is like making out with a cow's stomach full of lime Jell-O. Get it? No? Exactly!
All in all, I enjoyed Northern Lights; I may even read it again someday. But I've been spoiled by Tim O'Brien's Vietnam oeuvre, and was hoping for a little more from this, at least partially because I secretly hoped that his recent fiction is bad because he has aged. I think O'Brien is best when he writes close to home, and when he slips into fictionalization, he can get sometimes sort of go off the grid. I think Northern Lights is pretty close to home for him, but because it was mainly a work of fiction, O'Brien had to do a lot of guess work about characters and plot that hurt the book in the end. At the end of the day, I'll probably just re-read The Things They Carried.
Tim O'Brien made his bones as a writer with his works about the Vietnam war, producing the classics If I Die in a Combat Zone: Box Me Up and Ship Me Home, The Things They Carried and Going After Cacciato. Northern Lights is O'Brien's second book, and his first attempt at fiction. I have read all of O'Brien's other books, with mixed feelings. I found that his writing on Vietnam is riveting, but his other material is not my cup of tea. Some of it feels dated, some is overly ruminative and frankly, some of his later books just bore me. None of his peace-time work excites me at all. So I was interested in Northern Lights, because I thought it might be a good mix of war stuff and civilian stuff.
The blurb on the back of our copy states that the:
"core [of the book] is the relationship between two brothers: one who went to Vietnam and one who stayed home. As the two brothers struggle against an unexpected blizzard in Minnesota's remote north woods, what they discover about themselves and each other will change both of them forever."
This led me to believe that the mass of the book would concern said blizzard. Interesting, no? Possibly crazed vet stuck with peacenik brother in a snowstorm. What's going to happen? Well, I enjoyed that part of the book, which lasted from page 165 to page 313. Roughly 150 pages of good, tense, nail-biting reading. Although the snowstorm didn't actually hit until about page 190. Still not bad.
But the blurb didn't mention the other 210 pages of relationships and love triangles and daddy issues, all of which were alluded to, written of obliquely and left to me to figure out. I generally like that kind of book, but I didn't find O'Brien's characters compelling, except for Harvey, the Vietnam brother, and Addie, Harvey's girlfriend.
Northern Lights focuses on Paul Perry, and much of the book is dedicated to Paul's murky relationship with his doughty wife, Grace. Paul is noncommittal about Grace. He seems satisfied with her, but not especially impressed. He acts as if he wants more, particularly upon Harvey's return from war, but is helpless to enact that change. Paul is often passive-aggressive toward Grace, and O'Brien makes a lot out of Paul's friendship with Addie, the young, exotic librarian/town whore, who falls into Harvey's arms while Paul hems and haws about his own attraction to her.
My recurring complaint about this book begins here. Paul's problems with Grace are never fully examined. They are vaguely alluded to, the results laid out without a reason. O'Brien mentions several times that Paul's father did not fully approve of Grace, but we're never told why. I don't mind reading between the lines; I'm not an idiot. But I looked between the lines, and found the writing to be Latin, or possibly Esperanto.
Paul is similarly apathetic about his government job in the small, dying town of Sawmill Landing. He fell into the job and doesn't enjoy it, but it's his now, and he does it well. He just doesn't really want it. A lot like his wife.
The book begins on the day of Harvey's return from Vietnam, where he lost an eye. We discover quickly that Harvey was the town hero before he went to war, and that he was also his father's hero. Known around the town as "Bull", Harvey was a star athlete and outdoorsman, and basically could no wrong in the small, cloistered community of Sawmill Landing.
Harvey is an intriguing character to me. Because he spent his youth in the limelight, he expects and is given accolades upon his homecoming. The only problem is that Harvey mainly wants to be by himself. He alternately keeps himself hermitted away in his bedroom and demands attention. At any rate, he sinks into alcoholism.
As mentioned above, Harvey sort of stumbles into Addie. Paul's do-nothing approach to the mutual attraction between him and Addie forced her away from him, but being the town whore is what made her take up with Paul's brother. Seriously, who does that? In high school, we had a name for girls who messed around with the brothers and friends of boys who didn't like them as much as they wanted. That word, as you may have guessed, was whore.
But I digress. While Paul balefully observes, Harvey forces his relationship with Addie to be serious. This leads to a lot of familial double-date nights, which nobody but Harvey really wants, but the Bull gets his way. Grace goes along with it gamefully, while Paul and Addie continue to jab and retreat, and Harvey drinks and rolls his dead eye around.
Without detailing every part of the book, let me just say that Addie does some more whoring around, then Harvey shows some chinks in his armor, and next thing you know, Paul and Harvey are lost in a blizzard while cross-country skiing. As I said, this is the good part of the book, tension-wise, and it does cause the brothers to discover things about themselves, as promised.
They do a lot of soul-searching and hashing out their daddy issues. Again, a lot of things are sort of left in the air to make up your own mind about, although not so much as with the Paul and Grace situation. Then Harvey dies. Whaaaaa?!?!?! Don't worry; against all odds, Paul saves the day, gets them out of trouble and Harvey is forced to acknowledge Paul's usefulness. After that, Paul becomes much more decisive about things, Addie takes off to the big city, and everybody is more or less happy. Except Harvey. Oh well.
I like Northern Lights mainly because the theme is easy to pin down. Paul is a wishy-washy nancy boy his entire life. Whenever he is confronted with a decision, he sits on his hands until the decision is made for him. When Paul is unhappy in his marriage and has Addie on his line, he just waits for resolution, hoping either Grace will let him off the hook, or Addie will tear him off the hook. Instead, Addie just drifts away, and rubs it in Paul's face to boot.
Paul's job is more of the same. He putts along at his stale work until he is informed that his office is being closed. Then, instead of being proactive in finding new work, Paul decides to take a little time off to think about it. He's pushed in multiple directions by his wife, brother, even passing acquaintances, so no decision is ever really made.
But after Paul gets a little self-worth, he suddenly works everything out for himself nice and neat. The best part is that Harvey, given circumstances that would knock most men down a few pegs, barely feels a draft. He doesn't really work anything out, but at least he has a grudging respect for his big brother, and he's not dating the town whore anymore, so that had to be some weight off his shoulders.
I'm not thrilled with an ending that presents Paul as completely transformed over a matter of a week or two, but I'm glad that nobody else is that squared off. Harvey is still an unrepentant alcoholic without direction, Grace is still a fearful little titmouse, and Addie's tramping around in St. Paul. That rings true to me, because, as we learned in Breathing Lessons, nobody ever really changes all that much. And I would have been perfectly happy with Paul changing a little, taking more control of himself, and showing the possibility of more change; I just didn't care for his total makeover because of a snowstorm.
I was probably more impressed with Harvey as a character than I would have been if another author had written it, because I feel like there must have been some of O'Brien himself in Harvey. It's a little window into the heart of a damaged veteran that I appreciate. But I think O'Brien comes up short in some of his characterization, particularly with Grace and Addie. Perhaps he just didn't have room to explain them as well as he might, or perhaps, like me, exploring the female mind is like making out with a cow's stomach full of lime Jell-O. Get it? No? Exactly!
All in all, I enjoyed Northern Lights; I may even read it again someday. But I've been spoiled by Tim O'Brien's Vietnam oeuvre, and was hoping for a little more from this, at least partially because I secretly hoped that his recent fiction is bad because he has aged. I think O'Brien is best when he writes close to home, and when he slips into fictionalization, he can get sometimes sort of go off the grid. I think Northern Lights is pretty close to home for him, but because it was mainly a work of fiction, O'Brien had to do a lot of guess work about characters and plot that hurt the book in the end. At the end of the day, I'll probably just re-read The Things They Carried.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Cram Your Snide Comments Up Your Cramhole
Contrary to my wife's petty prognostication, here is my review of February's book. Ahem...
What was it called? Breathing Lessons? Hmm. Intriguing. As I recall, the title was cleverly based on the 27 words devoted to one of the protagonists taking her former daughter-in-law to her Lamaze classes. Way to make that extra effort, Anne Tyler.
Anyway, the book focused on a married couple, Ira and Maggie, and a trip to a funeral. Some stuff happened, but mainly I was struck with an enduring image of two 50-somethings trying to do the nasty in a widow's bedroom. Icky.
Tyler divided the book into possibly three or four sections, most of which were written from Maggie's POV. She certainly was whiny. As Monique pointed out, Maggie desperately wants everyone she meets, every single person, to be happy. But the lengths she goes to to achieve happiness for others is both beyond the realms of believability and shockingly annoying. Maggie has her nose in everyone's business to the point of pushing them away. Lucky for her, she has Ira to show her the errors of her ways, and shoulder the horrifying responsibility of being married to her.
For his part, Ira is detached from everything around him. He plays a lot of Solitaire, and wants nothing more than to go to the funeral of his wife's friend's husband, then turn around and go back to Baltimore, where he can run his frame shop and feel beholden to his father and idiot sisters. Ira, I get. His children disappoint him, his father crushed his dreams of med school and his wife is an overwrought simpleton. So he doesn't sweat the small stuff, and he takes care of the things he's supposed to take care of, and he lives completely within himself. Three cheers for self-reliance!
Speaking of Ira, the one spectacular facet of the book was Tyler's depiction of Ira. I generally think that female authors do a crappy job of writing male characters. In most chick-lit, men are hurriedly scribbled down, painted with as many broad stereotypes as possible, so the good-looking guy is always good, and the bad guy is transparently so. Cads! It's possible that male authors are just as guilty of the same activity when writing women; I wouldn't know.
But Anne Tyler did surprising justice to the male gender when she concocted Ira. Everything about him rang true to me, except for his subconscious whistling of songs apropos to every moment, without his knowledge. That's a bit asinine. But overall, Ira was written like a real male, good and bad.
I'm not in love with the book. I would have preferred some Jay McInerney or Bret Easton Ellis for the '80s. I did not cry at any point, except when I tried to sleep the night after I read the geriatric make-out scene. Ewwww. Nasty. It was fairly predictable, and offered little character growth. The secondary characters were all two dimensional, and neither one was the intriguing fourth dimension, or even the silky-smooth Fifth Dimension. Personally, I either didn't see or can't remember any revelation at the end of the book. Everyone is still basically in the exact same place they were at the beginning of the book, despite 300+ pages of Maggie's finagling. Maybe that's the point: nothing really changes except our skin condition. Huzzah for my revelation!!
What was it called? Breathing Lessons? Hmm. Intriguing. As I recall, the title was cleverly based on the 27 words devoted to one of the protagonists taking her former daughter-in-law to her Lamaze classes. Way to make that extra effort, Anne Tyler.
Anyway, the book focused on a married couple, Ira and Maggie, and a trip to a funeral. Some stuff happened, but mainly I was struck with an enduring image of two 50-somethings trying to do the nasty in a widow's bedroom. Icky.
Tyler divided the book into possibly three or four sections, most of which were written from Maggie's POV. She certainly was whiny. As Monique pointed out, Maggie desperately wants everyone she meets, every single person, to be happy. But the lengths she goes to to achieve happiness for others is both beyond the realms of believability and shockingly annoying. Maggie has her nose in everyone's business to the point of pushing them away. Lucky for her, she has Ira to show her the errors of her ways, and shoulder the horrifying responsibility of being married to her.
For his part, Ira is detached from everything around him. He plays a lot of Solitaire, and wants nothing more than to go to the funeral of his wife's friend's husband, then turn around and go back to Baltimore, where he can run his frame shop and feel beholden to his father and idiot sisters. Ira, I get. His children disappoint him, his father crushed his dreams of med school and his wife is an overwrought simpleton. So he doesn't sweat the small stuff, and he takes care of the things he's supposed to take care of, and he lives completely within himself. Three cheers for self-reliance!
Speaking of Ira, the one spectacular facet of the book was Tyler's depiction of Ira. I generally think that female authors do a crappy job of writing male characters. In most chick-lit, men are hurriedly scribbled down, painted with as many broad stereotypes as possible, so the good-looking guy is always good, and the bad guy is transparently so. Cads! It's possible that male authors are just as guilty of the same activity when writing women; I wouldn't know.
But Anne Tyler did surprising justice to the male gender when she concocted Ira. Everything about him rang true to me, except for his subconscious whistling of songs apropos to every moment, without his knowledge. That's a bit asinine. But overall, Ira was written like a real male, good and bad.
I'm not in love with the book. I would have preferred some Jay McInerney or Bret Easton Ellis for the '80s. I did not cry at any point, except when I tried to sleep the night after I read the geriatric make-out scene. Ewwww. Nasty. It was fairly predictable, and offered little character growth. The secondary characters were all two dimensional, and neither one was the intriguing fourth dimension, or even the silky-smooth Fifth Dimension. Personally, I either didn't see or can't remember any revelation at the end of the book. Everyone is still basically in the exact same place they were at the beginning of the book, despite 300+ pages of Maggie's finagling. Maybe that's the point: nothing really changes except our skin condition. Huzzah for my revelation!!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Breathing Lessons...Monique's Review
I finished February this weekend--finally. Also, I bought April's book, and I'm about 50 pages into March. Yay for me!
So, Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler. It took me about 100 pages or more to really get into the book. Overall, I enjoyed it. I actually cried at the end of the book, as it was a revelation of sorts.
I went into the book thinking it was about marriage, but it was about marriage, family, children. I found that much of the book resonated my own personal experiences. I found myself thinking of my first marriage and how it just was destined to fail. I found myself wondering if monogamy is really natural. At one point in the book, the main character says that she fell in love with her husband again, which was "convenient." I guess that's really what it's all about: falling in love again, and hoping it's with the person you married.
The book made me cry because it hit home with some themes I've been wrestling with in my own life lately. The main character, Maggie, wants so badly for everyone to be happy. She engineers these moments and tries to engineer relationships and it never works. It always just causes more trouble. It's not malicious--she truly just wants everyone to be happy. She wants to have this great happy family with these happy family moments.
It hit home and hard. When I was little, my family was not a happy family. We still aren't. I don't really think that my brothers like me, or each other, and I'm not sure my parents really like us all that much either. As a girl, I would watch movies with big, happy families and I just wanted that so much. I wanted big family gatherings where the families played games, and talked and had family traditions and stayed up late talking and having family talent shows. I wanted a family with a cabin in Vermont and that met there every Christmas and sat around the fire laughing and drinking cocoa. I wanted a big Italian family that got together every Sunday and had huge weddings. In my head, I imagine my family get togethers will be the same. A couple years ago, I had this elaborately planned Christmas. I took time off work so that I could do the necessary cooking and cleaning and baking. Well, my brother and his wife went to California and my other brother could not have cared less and barely showed up. My parents don't live in town and it's just not a priority for them. I was crushed. Really.
And I do it every freaking holiday. I write menus. I plan games. And it never happens. When my family does get together, some of us don't even talk to each other and it's awkward and pointless. And every single time, I'm crushed. Steve has gotten to the point where he just dreads it because he knows I will sink into some weird holiday related depression and either be a raving bitch or a crying mess.
So, Maggie's elaborate stories and plans just made me sad all over again.
The book was also about miscommunication and how we think we are telling our spouse something, and they interpret it as another and it's just a horrible cycle. This is obviously why so many marriages fail, and a problem that causes marriage counselors to stay in business.
Overall, I enjoyed it. It wasn't the best book I've ever read, but it was a quick read.
Steve will probably never post his review.
So, Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler. It took me about 100 pages or more to really get into the book. Overall, I enjoyed it. I actually cried at the end of the book, as it was a revelation of sorts.
I went into the book thinking it was about marriage, but it was about marriage, family, children. I found that much of the book resonated my own personal experiences. I found myself thinking of my first marriage and how it just was destined to fail. I found myself wondering if monogamy is really natural. At one point in the book, the main character says that she fell in love with her husband again, which was "convenient." I guess that's really what it's all about: falling in love again, and hoping it's with the person you married.
The book made me cry because it hit home with some themes I've been wrestling with in my own life lately. The main character, Maggie, wants so badly for everyone to be happy. She engineers these moments and tries to engineer relationships and it never works. It always just causes more trouble. It's not malicious--she truly just wants everyone to be happy. She wants to have this great happy family with these happy family moments.
It hit home and hard. When I was little, my family was not a happy family. We still aren't. I don't really think that my brothers like me, or each other, and I'm not sure my parents really like us all that much either. As a girl, I would watch movies with big, happy families and I just wanted that so much. I wanted big family gatherings where the families played games, and talked and had family traditions and stayed up late talking and having family talent shows. I wanted a family with a cabin in Vermont and that met there every Christmas and sat around the fire laughing and drinking cocoa. I wanted a big Italian family that got together every Sunday and had huge weddings. In my head, I imagine my family get togethers will be the same. A couple years ago, I had this elaborately planned Christmas. I took time off work so that I could do the necessary cooking and cleaning and baking. Well, my brother and his wife went to California and my other brother could not have cared less and barely showed up. My parents don't live in town and it's just not a priority for them. I was crushed. Really.
And I do it every freaking holiday. I write menus. I plan games. And it never happens. When my family does get together, some of us don't even talk to each other and it's awkward and pointless. And every single time, I'm crushed. Steve has gotten to the point where he just dreads it because he knows I will sink into some weird holiday related depression and either be a raving bitch or a crying mess.
So, Maggie's elaborate stories and plans just made me sad all over again.
The book was also about miscommunication and how we think we are telling our spouse something, and they interpret it as another and it's just a horrible cycle. This is obviously why so many marriages fail, and a problem that causes marriage counselors to stay in business.
Overall, I enjoyed it. It wasn't the best book I've ever read, but it was a quick read.
Steve will probably never post his review.
Friday, April 4, 2008
March
Okay. I admit it. I'm totally lame. I didn't read March either. I can't help it. My job doesn't afford me much free time, and when I do have free time, I usually either sleep or read something totally brainless, like US Magazine.
Steve read it. He's good like that.
I did start reading February's book and March's book....
Will I finish them and finish April's? Who knows. I do have a couple big trials coming up, so I'm guessing that means I won't finish them.
It's sort of sad. I used to read all the time and just loved it. I loved opening a book, bending the spine back, and starting the book. I loved the sort of sad feeling of finishing a great book. Then I went to law school, and had to read non-stop. I still read non-stop. My day is made up of doing two things: reading and talking. Really, that's being a lawyer in a nutshell. When I get home, I'm so tired of reading, that I can't do it. I can read Perez Hilton, but that takes no energy. I like that.
The reading challenge is becoming less about reading books to talk about with my husband and more about just reading at all.
Steve read it. He's good like that.
I did start reading February's book and March's book....
Will I finish them and finish April's? Who knows. I do have a couple big trials coming up, so I'm guessing that means I won't finish them.
It's sort of sad. I used to read all the time and just loved it. I loved opening a book, bending the spine back, and starting the book. I loved the sort of sad feeling of finishing a great book. Then I went to law school, and had to read non-stop. I still read non-stop. My day is made up of doing two things: reading and talking. Really, that's being a lawyer in a nutshell. When I get home, I'm so tired of reading, that I can't do it. I can read Perez Hilton, but that takes no energy. I like that.
The reading challenge is becoming less about reading books to talk about with my husband and more about just reading at all.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
February's Pick, or Why Monique is Too Lame to Read
Well, February's pick ended up being Anne Tyler's Breathing Lessons. Turned out that the book I originally picked was over 1000 pages long, and that was against the rules.
Steve said, "You didn't check before you picked it?" It's like he doesn't know me at all....that would have required more attention than I have to give to such mundane details.
So, I had to find a new book from the eighties. As anyone who lived in that time period can attest to, the eighties were a time of bad fashion, bad music, and even worse literature. Really--don't take my word for it, check out a list of bestsellers from that decade. Yuck.
I basically just picked one that had decent reviews. Then Steve read it. I didn't.
In my defense, I did a trial in February that was, in words of the judge, "Soo bad. The facts were soo bad. I found myself wondering what you could possibly argue." I also prepped another trial that sucked out of me much of my desire to do criminal defense...but that's a story for another place and another time.
I didn't read it. Steve did. He'll post.
Onto March. We are both very excited about March's book. Tim O'Brien is one of my all time favorites, and I think Steve thinks he's okay, too. He wrote one of the most moving books I've ever read: The Things They Carried. If I Die in a Combat Zone is also good. March's pick is Northern Lights, Tim's first book.
Steve said, "You didn't check before you picked it?" It's like he doesn't know me at all....that would have required more attention than I have to give to such mundane details.
So, I had to find a new book from the eighties. As anyone who lived in that time period can attest to, the eighties were a time of bad fashion, bad music, and even worse literature. Really--don't take my word for it, check out a list of bestsellers from that decade. Yuck.
I basically just picked one that had decent reviews. Then Steve read it. I didn't.
In my defense, I did a trial in February that was, in words of the judge, "Soo bad. The facts were soo bad. I found myself wondering what you could possibly argue." I also prepped another trial that sucked out of me much of my desire to do criminal defense...but that's a story for another place and another time.
I didn't read it. Steve did. He'll post.
Onto March. We are both very excited about March's book. Tim O'Brien is one of my all time favorites, and I think Steve thinks he's okay, too. He wrote one of the most moving books I've ever read: The Things They Carried. If I Die in a Combat Zone is also good. March's pick is Northern Lights, Tim's first book.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Steve's Review
Let me preface this by saying that my reading time is limited, beause I only read on the toilet. Sorry I took so long.
I'll start by agreeing with Monique that the layout of the book was annoying. It is vaguely textbook-like, in size and format, with distracting little made-up definitions to help assimilate and comprehend the oh-so-complex thought processes of my generation. Does anybody remember Sniglets? They were "words that aren't in the dicitonary but should be," compiled into shiny, bathroom-reading volumes that filled my stockings for several years in the late 80's. For example: Cheedle -- the orange residue left on fingers after eating Cheetos or some other cheesy snack. See? Great, isn't it? Anyway, Generation X is full of things like that, only more culturally significant.
I also agree with Monique that the dialogue was affected and self-important, reminiscent of the slacker films of the early 90's, such as, um, Slackers. Also, Coupland refused to italicize entire words, opting to place the emphasis on individual syllables, so we know precisely how to read the words. Possibly because he's Canadian. Sadly, Mr. Coupland, Strunk and White are not Canadian.
I did enjoy most of the stories written into the novel. I generally like short stories better than novels, if they are well-written. I think it's the mark of a good writer to be able to convey the same point in 5000 words that another writer makes in 200,000 words, and Coupland did that several times. I appreciated Coupland's minimalization in the stories, using a relatively barren narrative, but still eliciting feelings from me.
But aside from the short stories, the tone of the book was unbearable. According to a blurb on the back of the book, Cosmo called Generation X, "A modern-day Catcher in the Rye." I agree, in that both books involved whining protagonists who are perpetually unhappy with their lot in life and refuse to accept any of the blame for it. The point of Generation X seemed to be that our parents made the world unlivable, and anybody who tries to live and work in this horrible world we inherited is a simplton deserving of unmitigated contempt.
Essentially, if you have a job that pays a living wage, have kids, own a house, drive a decent car, live in a city, live in a suburb, live on a farm, wear new clothes, wear stylish clothes, smoke, don't smoke, travel in Europe, don't travel in Europe or have non-vintage furiture, you should want to die. If any of that doesn't make you beg for death, then you actually deserve to die.
Again, everything pointed to how badly the previous generation screwed us over. None of the characters had a functional relationship with their families, and there was a great deal of pity spread around for unhip parents who didn't understand how unhip they were.
I'd like to take a second to point out that every generation, probably from the beginning of time, has had to deal with mistakes made by the prior generation, and the human race is still here. Is having to drive electric cars to save the environment worse than being drafted into Vietnam? Is Vietnam worse than the depression worse than the Civil War worse than the Plague? Each of these events had a huge effect on the following generation. I doubt that the first guy to catch the bubonic plague from his friendly household rat said on his deathbed that he was glad his generation had it easier than his parents'. But there were probably unemployed waifs all over Europe, dressed in secondhand cod pieces, who sat around drinking ale and complaining about how hard they had it. "Forsooth, fair Marion, I dost had to take a job at Sir Arthur's stable! I hate my dad, I sweareth! Hey, dost thou have an oozing lesion?"
While reading, I sometimes got the feeling that Coupland was poking fun at himself, at least a little. I'd like to believe that, but I really don't. Ultimately, he's very serious about his self-righteous anger, and his disappointment in everyone who is unwilling to give up their possessions and jobs, and live in the desert smoking clove cigarettes.
I'm just saying, okay, Douglas Coupland, you hated your job and couldn't afford a house. Welcome to adult life. Work harder or accept your future. Granted, you found a way around that by writing a mediocre book that expresses the bitchy fears of a lazy generation that had everything handed to it, so good for you. But seriously, am I bad because I'm (usually) employed and like driving a car that runs? Evidently.
I'll start by agreeing with Monique that the layout of the book was annoying. It is vaguely textbook-like, in size and format, with distracting little made-up definitions to help assimilate and comprehend the oh-so-complex thought processes of my generation. Does anybody remember Sniglets? They were "words that aren't in the dicitonary but should be," compiled into shiny, bathroom-reading volumes that filled my stockings for several years in the late 80's. For example: Cheedle -- the orange residue left on fingers after eating Cheetos or some other cheesy snack. See? Great, isn't it? Anyway, Generation X is full of things like that, only more culturally significant.
I also agree with Monique that the dialogue was affected and self-important, reminiscent of the slacker films of the early 90's, such as, um, Slackers. Also, Coupland refused to italicize entire words, opting to place the emphasis on individual syllables, so we know precisely how to read the words. Possibly because he's Canadian. Sadly, Mr. Coupland, Strunk and White are not Canadian.
I did enjoy most of the stories written into the novel. I generally like short stories better than novels, if they are well-written. I think it's the mark of a good writer to be able to convey the same point in 5000 words that another writer makes in 200,000 words, and Coupland did that several times. I appreciated Coupland's minimalization in the stories, using a relatively barren narrative, but still eliciting feelings from me.
But aside from the short stories, the tone of the book was unbearable. According to a blurb on the back of the book, Cosmo called Generation X, "A modern-day Catcher in the Rye." I agree, in that both books involved whining protagonists who are perpetually unhappy with their lot in life and refuse to accept any of the blame for it. The point of Generation X seemed to be that our parents made the world unlivable, and anybody who tries to live and work in this horrible world we inherited is a simplton deserving of unmitigated contempt.
Essentially, if you have a job that pays a living wage, have kids, own a house, drive a decent car, live in a city, live in a suburb, live on a farm, wear new clothes, wear stylish clothes, smoke, don't smoke, travel in Europe, don't travel in Europe or have non-vintage furiture, you should want to die. If any of that doesn't make you beg for death, then you actually deserve to die.
Again, everything pointed to how badly the previous generation screwed us over. None of the characters had a functional relationship with their families, and there was a great deal of pity spread around for unhip parents who didn't understand how unhip they were.
I'd like to take a second to point out that every generation, probably from the beginning of time, has had to deal with mistakes made by the prior generation, and the human race is still here. Is having to drive electric cars to save the environment worse than being drafted into Vietnam? Is Vietnam worse than the depression worse than the Civil War worse than the Plague? Each of these events had a huge effect on the following generation. I doubt that the first guy to catch the bubonic plague from his friendly household rat said on his deathbed that he was glad his generation had it easier than his parents'. But there were probably unemployed waifs all over Europe, dressed in secondhand cod pieces, who sat around drinking ale and complaining about how hard they had it. "Forsooth, fair Marion, I dost had to take a job at Sir Arthur's stable! I hate my dad, I sweareth! Hey, dost thou have an oozing lesion?"
While reading, I sometimes got the feeling that Coupland was poking fun at himself, at least a little. I'd like to believe that, but I really don't. Ultimately, he's very serious about his self-righteous anger, and his disappointment in everyone who is unwilling to give up their possessions and jobs, and live in the desert smoking clove cigarettes.
I'm just saying, okay, Douglas Coupland, you hated your job and couldn't afford a house. Welcome to adult life. Work harder or accept your future. Granted, you found a way around that by writing a mediocre book that expresses the bitchy fears of a lazy generation that had everything handed to it, so good for you. But seriously, am I bad because I'm (usually) employed and like driving a car that runs? Evidently.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Monique's Review
I finished the book last week. Trial prep has kept me from posting my review, but I have a few minutes today:
Overall, I disliked the book. I actually hated it at first. The definitions in the margins were distracting and annoying. The drawings and the definitions made the book feel dated (which it is) and that just made me feel old.
My take on the book is that Generation Xers are miserable. They feel that they are the first generation to suffer the effects of high divorce rates, and the fact that most of us won't be more successful or make more money than our parents did. The characters all seem to have a longing for the fifties. Our parents grew up in two parent households. Divorces were rare amongst our grandparents. Our fathers grew up knowing that if they worked hard and went to college, they'd get great jobs and have more, be more, do more than the previous generation. Our parents took jobs with companies and stayed there for years, moving upward.
Then we came along. Most of us grew up in broken homes, or homes that should be broken, they are so beyond repair. We grew up knowing a college degree didn't mean much, it was just a step towards the now necessary graduate degree. Most of us won't work for the same company for years, and will scramble to have any sort of retirement. We have to worry about nuclear war (according to the author), the environment, and social security being there to pay our bills. We feel a sense of lethargy from all of this pushing down on us, leading us to be slackers--that cliche from the nineties.
I feel this, I really do. I've been there. I'm paying out the ass for my student loans for law school and I sure as hell don't feel upwardly mobile. But something about the book just made Gen-Xers seem whiny, annoying, and lazy.
I often felt like I was reading a book written by Ethan Hawke's character from Reality Bites. And that annoyed me--a lot. So, while it was an okay book, I didn't really enjoy. I'm looking forward to next month's pick and hoping I enjoy it more.
Overall, I disliked the book. I actually hated it at first. The definitions in the margins were distracting and annoying. The drawings and the definitions made the book feel dated (which it is) and that just made me feel old.
My take on the book is that Generation Xers are miserable. They feel that they are the first generation to suffer the effects of high divorce rates, and the fact that most of us won't be more successful or make more money than our parents did. The characters all seem to have a longing for the fifties. Our parents grew up in two parent households. Divorces were rare amongst our grandparents. Our fathers grew up knowing that if they worked hard and went to college, they'd get great jobs and have more, be more, do more than the previous generation. Our parents took jobs with companies and stayed there for years, moving upward.
Then we came along. Most of us grew up in broken homes, or homes that should be broken, they are so beyond repair. We grew up knowing a college degree didn't mean much, it was just a step towards the now necessary graduate degree. Most of us won't work for the same company for years, and will scramble to have any sort of retirement. We have to worry about nuclear war (according to the author), the environment, and social security being there to pay our bills. We feel a sense of lethargy from all of this pushing down on us, leading us to be slackers--that cliche from the nineties.
I feel this, I really do. I've been there. I'm paying out the ass for my student loans for law school and I sure as hell don't feel upwardly mobile. But something about the book just made Gen-Xers seem whiny, annoying, and lazy.
I often felt like I was reading a book written by Ethan Hawke's character from Reality Bites. And that annoyed me--a lot. So, while it was an okay book, I didn't really enjoy. I'm looking forward to next month's pick and hoping I enjoy it more.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
The Challenge Begins!
Our books FINALLY arrived. It took Amazon forever to ship them. We ordered Generation X, two used copies. Steve has an aversion to used things, but he'll have to manage. I also got a used copy of Anna Karenina for the Russian Reading Challenge. It is much longer than I remembered. I have to admit, I'm cheating a little. I actually read half of it the summer before I went to college. I left the book behind and never finished it. So I'm really re-reading the first half. I think it still counts for the challenge anyway, because that was almost 16 years ago. (God, I'm getting old...)
We have a busy weekend of cleaning up after the destruction unleashed upon the house by the children after Christmas, but then we will start reading and post our thoughts about the book.
We are both gen-xers, so it should be an intersting read.
We have a busy weekend of cleaning up after the destruction unleashed upon the house by the children after Christmas, but then we will start reading and post our thoughts about the book.
We are both gen-xers, so it should be an intersting read.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
The List (Still Awaiting Steve's Picks...)
January is the Nineties (Steve's pick):
Generation X, Douglas Coupland
February is the Eighties (Monique's pick):
The Executioner's Song, Norman Mailer.
March will be the Seventies:
Northern Lights, Tim O'Brien
April is the Sixties:
The Winter of Our Discontent, John Steinbeck
May is the perfect month for the Fifties:
Kon-Tiki, Thor Heyerdahl
June will be the Forties:
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
July is the Thirties:
The Big Sleep, Raymond Chandler
August is the Roaring Twenties, which of course requires reading:
The Portable Dorothy Parker
September brings us the 1910s:
October and the 1900's:
The Jungle, Upton Sinclair
November is the 1890s:
Finally, December is the 1880s:
The Wild Duck, Henrik Ibsen
Generation X, Douglas Coupland
February is the Eighties (Monique's pick):
The Executioner's Song, Norman Mailer.
March will be the Seventies:
Northern Lights, Tim O'Brien
April is the Sixties:
The Winter of Our Discontent, John Steinbeck
May is the perfect month for the Fifties:
Kon-Tiki, Thor Heyerdahl
June will be the Forties:
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
July is the Thirties:
The Big Sleep, Raymond Chandler
August is the Roaring Twenties, which of course requires reading:
The Portable Dorothy Parker
September brings us the 1910s:
October and the 1900's:
The Jungle, Upton Sinclair
November is the 1890s:
Finally, December is the 1880s:
The Wild Duck, Henrik Ibsen
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