You didn't think I was done, did you? Sucka.
I don't usually dabble in movie reviews here (hence, the title of the blog), but movie reviews of books I've just read (or, in the case of P.S. I Love You, not) seems fair...
I saw Atonement two weeks ago, and I liked it, but didn't love it. (The friend that I went with loved it, though, as did, apparently, the Golden Globe folks.) It followed the book exactly (though the second section, about Robbie's trek through France, was much shorter) and I felt devastated all over again at the end. So mostly I'm just going to blame my ambivalence on Keira Knightly, who I generally can't stand. I don't know why, either, except that instead of seeing her character, I usually just see her. Two thumbs up to James McAvoy, though. I've loved him since Wimbledon (though if googles himself, like all good people do, and sees this, please stop biting your nails! It's very noticeable on film.)
I took my 13-year-old neighbor to see P.S. I Love You on Saturday. She also liked this one better than I. It was an entertaining film for an afternoon, and the men are absolutely yummy (hello, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and the unpronounceable Gerard Butler!), but...I don't know, the writers didn't spend enough time building up any of the relationships so that we really cared. I'm not sure I'd see it again on DVD - which is the true barometer for a good chick flick (my top 5 for a cheering-up, thank you High Fidelity: Wimbledon, How to Lose a Guy in 8 Days, Bring It On, The Holiday, and Catch and Release.)
Clearly I've gotten totally off-track here, so let's move on...
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
The Final Tally
I realize, of course, that it's not January 1 yet, but I am pretty sure that this is where my list ends for 2007...at #26. I could read another four books in six days if I were to choose the right ones, but speed-reading through books was never the point of this exercise. So, as I wipe away a tear for another year with less than 30 books read, I am going to dive into The Pillars of the Earth, a fat book that I only have from the library until January 9. Two people have told me it's one of the best books they've ever read, so I have high hopes. (I've just read High Fidelity, so I have to do this. Top 5 Favorite Books of All Time, in no particular order: Possession, The Time Traveler's Wife, The Red Tent, In the Skin of a Lion, and A Moveable Feast.)
See you next year!
See you next year!
#26: The Jane Austen Book Club, Karen Joy Fowler
If you're thinking to yourself, you like Jane Austen and you like book clubs so this is a book for you, don't be fooled: The Jane Austen Book Club is awful. Blech. I had this one out from the library for quite some time and never got around to it, only to pick it up again to read it before the movie comes out on DVD. (It did actually come out in the theatre, right? I mean, I saw previews, but never actually saw it listed on the board.) Now, I probably won't watch it on DVD, it was that bad.
Mostly what annoyed me was the disorganization, which I realize is an odd thing to say. But the book's structure is all over the place. I figured this out during the prologue, which is probably when I should have put the book down. The first clue was the narrator, who mostly uses (but not always), "we." But you never figure out which of the main six characters are narrating because even though she's established that it's one of them (page 5), everyone is always spoken about in 3rd person. And then at the end of some of the chapters, Fowler throws in the most random asides that, as far as I can tell, have nothing to do with the story. Take page 77. The chapter that's ending is about Allegra, who's just gone skydiving after breaking up with her girlfriend. Then there's a break, and suddenly a factual page about Austen's struggle to publish Pride and Prejudice. It's like, huh? These little random asides happen at the end of each of the six chapters, but each time they're totally random. One is a small excerpt of Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho, the book that Austen's characters are reading in Northanger Abbey; another is a couple of paragraphs about a dog show.
So that's me. From a generalist's perspective, for a novel titled The Jane Austen Book Club, it's not much about Jane Austen's books or a book club. It's all strange, very strange.
Mostly what annoyed me was the disorganization, which I realize is an odd thing to say. But the book's structure is all over the place. I figured this out during the prologue, which is probably when I should have put the book down. The first clue was the narrator, who mostly uses (but not always), "we." But you never figure out which of the main six characters are narrating because even though she's established that it's one of them (page 5), everyone is always spoken about in 3rd person. And then at the end of some of the chapters, Fowler throws in the most random asides that, as far as I can tell, have nothing to do with the story. Take page 77. The chapter that's ending is about Allegra, who's just gone skydiving after breaking up with her girlfriend. Then there's a break, and suddenly a factual page about Austen's struggle to publish Pride and Prejudice. It's like, huh? These little random asides happen at the end of each of the six chapters, but each time they're totally random. One is a small excerpt of Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho, the book that Austen's characters are reading in Northanger Abbey; another is a couple of paragraphs about a dog show.
So that's me. From a generalist's perspective, for a novel titled The Jane Austen Book Club, it's not much about Jane Austen's books or a book club. It's all strange, very strange.
#25: High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
Fittingly, I started the year with Nick Hornby, and now I'm (just about) ending with it...although I suppose I could have timed it better to have this be the last book of the year (alas).
Well, I don't have that much to say about this one, as it's EXACTLY like watching the movie. Even the jokes are the same. In that respect, I wasn't that keen on the book since I've seen the movie a million times, but that's not really anything to do with the book itself. The only part that was slightly ambiguous was the ending...do Rob and Laura stay together? It kind of seems like it (and the movie doesn't help, since clearly he gets his act together and they do), but three pages from the end, in response to his marriage proposal, Hornby writes, "'Well, you've asked.' But she says it sweetly, as if she knows that what I've asked is a nice thing, that it has some sort of meaning, even though she's not interested." Hmm. Well, it's Christmas...let's be generous of spirit and just pretend they stick together, shall we?
Next up: The Jane Austen Book Club, by Karen Joy Fowler.
Well, I don't have that much to say about this one, as it's EXACTLY like watching the movie. Even the jokes are the same. In that respect, I wasn't that keen on the book since I've seen the movie a million times, but that's not really anything to do with the book itself. The only part that was slightly ambiguous was the ending...do Rob and Laura stay together? It kind of seems like it (and the movie doesn't help, since clearly he gets his act together and they do), but three pages from the end, in response to his marriage proposal, Hornby writes, "'Well, you've asked.' But she says it sweetly, as if she knows that what I've asked is a nice thing, that it has some sort of meaning, even though she's not interested." Hmm. Well, it's Christmas...let's be generous of spirit and just pretend they stick together, shall we?
Next up: The Jane Austen Book Club, by Karen Joy Fowler.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
#24: The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
I finished The Namesake yesterday, and all I can say is: thank god. I was sure this awful book and the slow march through its pages was totally going to derail my 30 books plan (which would really suck three years in a row, no?). I am absolutely shocked that Lahiri won the Pulitzer Prize for Interpreter of Maladies -- the stories within may be fantastic, but her writing is awful, and that doesn't change terribly much from book to book. (And isn't the Pulitzer a celebration of language, not a harbinger of its demise?)
But back to The Namesake...The story itself was cold; I didn't empathize with anyone, because Lahiri's characterizations were so stiff. It would be like feeling for cardboard. I feel like that part's not even worth discussing, it was so bland. The worst part of The Namesake was the grammar. An example from page 260:
"In the Xerox room, she makes a copy of the resume. She sticks it in the bottom of her bag. Then she types up a new envelope and puts the original in the professor's mailbox." From the syntax, she should be putting the original envelope back into the mailbox -- but no, it's the resume that the character has returned. That sort of bad grammar litters Lahiri's novel, and frankly, destroys it. (Seriously, a Pulitzer?) I had to hold myself back from writing a "Save Yourself While You Can" note in the front of the library book.
I haven't seen the movie yet, but surely that version of The Namesake must be better, right? I should also mention, I tried to read P.S. I Love You as a break a couple of days ago, and that one was even worse. I got to about page 12 before snapping it shut. It was aw-ful. Seriously horrific. Words cannot even describe. (The writer, Cecelia Ahern, is apparently the 20-some daughter of Ireland's former prime minister. Clearly daddy got his little girl a book deal. Though I am wondering if this is the same Cecelia Ahern who is the executive producer of Samantha Who? It's not the most common name, but still, I don't see how it could be possible...)
Every time I read (or attempt to read) books like this, I want to get back to work on my own -- because surely if there are books like this out there and published, mine has a decent shot. So it at least makes me feel better in one regard.
Anyway, so onto happier thoughts...I have six books left to read, and a little over four weeks to read them in. Not so bad. Still, I am torn. Do I read six books that I know will be quick in order to reach my goal, or do I read three to four longer, more complex books and just suck up a final tally in the high 20s? Time will tell, but competing for a spot...in one corner, we have The Golden Notebook and The World Without Us, in the other Nick Hornby's High Fidelity and Sue Grafton.
But back to The Namesake...The story itself was cold; I didn't empathize with anyone, because Lahiri's characterizations were so stiff. It would be like feeling for cardboard. I feel like that part's not even worth discussing, it was so bland. The worst part of The Namesake was the grammar. An example from page 260:
"In the Xerox room, she makes a copy of the resume. She sticks it in the bottom of her bag. Then she types up a new envelope and puts the original in the professor's mailbox." From the syntax, she should be putting the original envelope back into the mailbox -- but no, it's the resume that the character has returned. That sort of bad grammar litters Lahiri's novel, and frankly, destroys it. (Seriously, a Pulitzer?) I had to hold myself back from writing a "Save Yourself While You Can" note in the front of the library book.
I haven't seen the movie yet, but surely that version of The Namesake must be better, right? I should also mention, I tried to read P.S. I Love You as a break a couple of days ago, and that one was even worse. I got to about page 12 before snapping it shut. It was aw-ful. Seriously horrific. Words cannot even describe. (The writer, Cecelia Ahern, is apparently the 20-some daughter of Ireland's former prime minister. Clearly daddy got his little girl a book deal. Though I am wondering if this is the same Cecelia Ahern who is the executive producer of Samantha Who? It's not the most common name, but still, I don't see how it could be possible...)
Every time I read (or attempt to read) books like this, I want to get back to work on my own -- because surely if there are books like this out there and published, mine has a decent shot. So it at least makes me feel better in one regard.
Anyway, so onto happier thoughts...I have six books left to read, and a little over four weeks to read them in. Not so bad. Still, I am torn. Do I read six books that I know will be quick in order to reach my goal, or do I read three to four longer, more complex books and just suck up a final tally in the high 20s? Time will tell, but competing for a spot...in one corner, we have The Golden Notebook and The World Without Us, in the other Nick Hornby's High Fidelity and Sue Grafton.
#23: Falling Out of Fashion, Yampolsky
I'm going to keep this one short, for two main reasons:
1. I finished this book about 10 days ago and have almost completely forgotten what happened.
2. I am no longer allowed to bitch about these awful chick-lit books if I'm going to continue to read them, knowing full well that they're going to be awful.
So, Falling Out of Fashion: in a word, ridiculous. The book was written by Karen Yampolsky, Jane Pratt's former assistant. (For those not in the magazine world, Jane Pratt was the editor of Sassy and Jane.) I am not intimately familiar with the details of Pratt's story, but from what I know and could tell, Yampolsky followed her bio pretty closely. I got the feeling that Jane Pratt signed a promise-not-to-bitch contract when she left Jane, so her assistant decided to write a defensive book for her. And clearly the assistant loved Jane Pratt; she is portrayed as an absolute angel whose vision was destroyed by the corporate machine. (Personally, I loved Sassy as a teen, but thought Jane was awful. It was like the white kid who wears his baggy jeans around his knees, hoping to convince you he's an absolute bad-ass, and just ends up looking pathetic. Jane deserved its early retirement.)
Having said all that, Yampolsky put together a well-written book. Hopefully next time she'll just create original material.
Next up: The Namesake, which I finished yesterday afternoon.
1. I finished this book about 10 days ago and have almost completely forgotten what happened.
2. I am no longer allowed to bitch about these awful chick-lit books if I'm going to continue to read them, knowing full well that they're going to be awful.
So, Falling Out of Fashion: in a word, ridiculous. The book was written by Karen Yampolsky, Jane Pratt's former assistant. (For those not in the magazine world, Jane Pratt was the editor of Sassy and Jane.) I am not intimately familiar with the details of Pratt's story, but from what I know and could tell, Yampolsky followed her bio pretty closely. I got the feeling that Jane Pratt signed a promise-not-to-bitch contract when she left Jane, so her assistant decided to write a defensive book for her. And clearly the assistant loved Jane Pratt; she is portrayed as an absolute angel whose vision was destroyed by the corporate machine. (Personally, I loved Sassy as a teen, but thought Jane was awful. It was like the white kid who wears his baggy jeans around his knees, hoping to convince you he's an absolute bad-ass, and just ends up looking pathetic. Jane deserved its early retirement.)
Having said all that, Yampolsky put together a well-written book. Hopefully next time she'll just create original material.
Next up: The Namesake, which I finished yesterday afternoon.
#22: Atonement, Ian McEwan
I picked up Atonement because the ads for the movie look good, and I generally try to read the book before seeing the adaptation on screen. So there we were...
At first, I was totally disappointed, and didn't know how I was going to get through the entire thing. The book is written in three sections, and the first part is more or less the literary version of Godsford Park (though now that I think of it, I believe that was its own book). The story was pretty tedious -- Atonement is about a rich British family in the 40s, and their relationships and the falling apart of the clan. I didn't really identify with anyone: the mother, Emily, was cold; Cecilia (Keira Knightly's character) was a strange combination of supercilious and flighty; and the protagonist, Briony, was a spoiled little girl. I felt throughout the first section that it was taking way too long to get to the main event, the crime, the details of which we could more or less anticipate from the book jacket.
But then my feelings completely changed in the second part. Robbie, Cecilia's disgraced love, is packed off to fight in France from his jail cell. I don't know why I suddenly liked this part better, except perhaps that his trek to reach the beaches of Normandy, which is more or less what this section was about, was fascinating. He desperately wanted to reach the beach to get home, to get back to Cecilia, and it carried him -- and me -- along.
By the end, I was hooked, and I have to say, this is one of the saddest books I have ever read. It seems like things are about to reach a decently happy conclusion, and even though there are small signs that that's not how Atonement's really going to end, you want so much for it to. But you begin believe it, and it's even worse when it doesn't come to pass. I suppose it's also that the people who most deserve a happy ending don't get it, and the true criminal goes on to live a long and successful life -- as if there isn't any justice (or poetic justice) in the world. (Or karma, I'm a big believer in that one.) I wish I could pinpoint exactly what McEwan does here, because it's powerful.
So I'd give Atonement two thumbs up, and then some. I'd even give the book as someone to a gift, and my list of gift-books is a pretty short one.
Next up: Falling Out of Fashion, which I've already finished.
At first, I was totally disappointed, and didn't know how I was going to get through the entire thing. The book is written in three sections, and the first part is more or less the literary version of Godsford Park (though now that I think of it, I believe that was its own book). The story was pretty tedious -- Atonement is about a rich British family in the 40s, and their relationships and the falling apart of the clan. I didn't really identify with anyone: the mother, Emily, was cold; Cecilia (Keira Knightly's character) was a strange combination of supercilious and flighty; and the protagonist, Briony, was a spoiled little girl. I felt throughout the first section that it was taking way too long to get to the main event, the crime, the details of which we could more or less anticipate from the book jacket.
But then my feelings completely changed in the second part. Robbie, Cecilia's disgraced love, is packed off to fight in France from his jail cell. I don't know why I suddenly liked this part better, except perhaps that his trek to reach the beaches of Normandy, which is more or less what this section was about, was fascinating. He desperately wanted to reach the beach to get home, to get back to Cecilia, and it carried him -- and me -- along.
By the end, I was hooked, and I have to say, this is one of the saddest books I have ever read. It seems like things are about to reach a decently happy conclusion, and even though there are small signs that that's not how Atonement's really going to end, you want so much for it to. But you begin believe it, and it's even worse when it doesn't come to pass. I suppose it's also that the people who most deserve a happy ending don't get it, and the true criminal goes on to live a long and successful life -- as if there isn't any justice (or poetic justice) in the world. (Or karma, I'm a big believer in that one.) I wish I could pinpoint exactly what McEwan does here, because it's powerful.
So I'd give Atonement two thumbs up, and then some. I'd even give the book as someone to a gift, and my list of gift-books is a pretty short one.
Next up: Falling Out of Fashion, which I've already finished.
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