Three Worst Books
From Saturday’s LJ writer’s block: “What are the three best books you have ever read and what are the three worst? What made them so good or bad?”
I got to thinking about it, and best books will take some consideration and probably a lot more than three listings. Worst, though, I can probably tackle. These are the ones that came first to mind, and all novels, because although I’ve read a lot of bad non-fiction, it’s a lot easier to forget, somehow. Three worst:
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand. I’ll leave the discussion of objectivism as a philosophy or Ayn Rand’s creepy sycophants aside and just say that as a novel, this book is *bad*. It’s rigid, overlong, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. Her characterizations of women are problematic and inconsistent and the whole thing reads like an astonishingly long self-absorbed personal fantasy. If you’re interested in what Rand proposed, save your time and just read Anthem, which is the objectivist version of Pilgrim’s Progress, all stripped down without the illusion of emotional complexity. (There was a great article on Rand and 2 recent biographies of her in a recent issue of the New Yorker, by the way.)
Twilight, Stephanie Meyer. I’ll admit it, I find Meyer’s gender politics skeevy, and I am very much looking forward to all of the Twilight movie hoopla being over and done with. That aside, I tried to give the first book a chance when everyone was first fawning over it, and it fell so flat with me. The protagonist, whose name I’ve even forgotten, was introduced with all these spunky teenaged girl attributes (cliched, but whatever). And then, not immediately but about when she and the vamp guy ended up having dinner together, she just stopped. Stopped having dissenting opinions, stopped calling bullshit on the thoroughly call-bullshit-worthy stuff that happened to her. Even that I would have bought if there was some kind of justification for her about face, some kind of acknowledgment in the text even the people I know in dysfunctional relationships are in them for a reason; they’re getting something out of them. This girl just seemed to disappear completely. Was that the rationale - that she was supposed to disappear so that the reader could more readily imagine being in her place?
Somewhere in the middle of Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series - I don't remember where, but somewhere around maybe the 7th book or so, this turned from an intriguing paranormal series with some lovely sexual tension into a bunch of sex scenes strung together. I have no problem with PWPs, but it was a real shame to see all semblance of characterization and plot thrown out the window to get as many people in bed together as possible.
I got to thinking about it, and best books will take some consideration and probably a lot more than three listings. Worst, though, I can probably tackle. These are the ones that came first to mind, and all novels, because although I’ve read a lot of bad non-fiction, it’s a lot easier to forget, somehow. Three worst:
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand. I’ll leave the discussion of objectivism as a philosophy or Ayn Rand’s creepy sycophants aside and just say that as a novel, this book is *bad*. It’s rigid, overlong, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. Her characterizations of women are problematic and inconsistent and the whole thing reads like an astonishingly long self-absorbed personal fantasy. If you’re interested in what Rand proposed, save your time and just read Anthem, which is the objectivist version of Pilgrim’s Progress, all stripped down without the illusion of emotional complexity. (There was a great article on Rand and 2 recent biographies of her in a recent issue of the New Yorker, by the way.)
Twilight, Stephanie Meyer. I’ll admit it, I find Meyer’s gender politics skeevy, and I am very much looking forward to all of the Twilight movie hoopla being over and done with. That aside, I tried to give the first book a chance when everyone was first fawning over it, and it fell so flat with me. The protagonist, whose name I’ve even forgotten, was introduced with all these spunky teenaged girl attributes (cliched, but whatever). And then, not immediately but about when she and the vamp guy ended up having dinner together, she just stopped. Stopped having dissenting opinions, stopped calling bullshit on the thoroughly call-bullshit-worthy stuff that happened to her. Even that I would have bought if there was some kind of justification for her about face, some kind of acknowledgment in the text even the people I know in dysfunctional relationships are in them for a reason; they’re getting something out of them. This girl just seemed to disappear completely. Was that the rationale - that she was supposed to disappear so that the reader could more readily imagine being in her place?
Somewhere in the middle of Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series - I don't remember where, but somewhere around maybe the 7th book or so, this turned from an intriguing paranormal series with some lovely sexual tension into a bunch of sex scenes strung together. I have no problem with PWPs, but it was a real shame to see all semblance of characterization and plot thrown out the window to get as many people in bed together as possible.