On My Shelf
Just finished The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which was witty and funny, but not quite as uproariously funny and ingeniously witty as I had been lead to expect. Which is not to say that I didn't enjoy it. To the contrary, I espescially loved the bit about Marvin causing a ship to commit suicide, thereby saving the lives of the principle characters. The Improbability Drive was also amusing, everyone loves a good, solid, Dickens-esque coincidence. However, I suppose that coming off a Cider House Rules generated "STRONG CHARACTERS EXIST" high, I was somewhat unprepared for the rather type-cast set in Hitchhikers.
Of course, my lack of passionate praise for Hitchhikers may also be the result of abounding passionate praise for Nine Horses. I love Billy Collins. It is just that simple. And while, yes, Sailing Alone Around the Room is a superior collection (based on what I've read so far of Nine Horses), a new book of Collins poetry is like candy, only not so sticky sweet. Really, it's more of a soothing, warming cross between a cool breeze on a stagnant summer day and a mug of hot mulled cider on a restless October night. But don't take my word for it.
Of course, my lack of passionate praise for Hitchhikers may also be the result of abounding passionate praise for Nine Horses. I love Billy Collins. It is just that simple. And while, yes, Sailing Alone Around the Room is a superior collection (based on what I've read so far of Nine Horses), a new book of Collins poetry is like candy, only not so sticky sweet. Really, it's more of a soothing, warming cross between a cool breeze on a stagnant summer day and a mug of hot mulled cider on a restless October night. But don't take my word for it.