Fiction: general, thrillers, romance
Robert Cormier, After the First Death: I had forgotten how depressing Cormier really is. Told mostly in flashbacks from multiple points of view, this is the story of a bus full of hijacked five- and six-year-olds, held hostage to terrorist demands. The terrorists are from some unnamed southern country; the failure to name was distracting, as if that was what was supposed to make the story universal. The bus driver, a young woman, finds unexpected strengths - and weaknesses - while the teenage son of a general, drawn into the situation by his father’s consent, experiences guilt so powerful it may destroy him even though we know from the first pages that he survived the bus. The third main POV character is the youngest hostage-taker, a boy who does not understand the emotions that other people feel; when he starts to, it only makes him angry. The writing is powerful and changes markedly with each POV. The general’s son is the most lyrical, but he’s had the most time to think. If you don’t mind extremely depressing views of the human condition, this is a strong book.
Pat Barker, Another World: Nick and Miranda are married and expecting their second child; each has a pubescent child from a previous marriage. As Nick’s grandfather slides towards death, revisiting old guilt along the way, Nick and Miranda’s marriage is creaking under the strain of their anxieties and obligations. The older two children are experiencing crises of their own, and young Gareth especially is headed down a dangerous path - one that intersects with two-year-old Jasper’s. Barker’s theme is, as usual, the surprising and painful ways in which the past has its claws embedded in the flesh of the present. It’s occasionally excruciating because of the emotional realism about marriage and childrearing, but beautifully written.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated: Jonathan Safran Foer travels to the Ukraine to investigate his grandfather’s history. Aided by Alex, a translator with his own issues, and Alex’s cranky grandfather, they excavate painful truths from WWII, when even collaborators could think of themselves as victims - and be right, even as they were deluding themselves about their own responsibilities. The story here takes a back seat to the style; half of the book is narrated by Alex in fractured English that I think was supposed to transcend stereotype and become some sort of metaphor for something, maybe the difficulty of communicating across any barrier - time, language, gender, whatever. It annoyed the hell out of me. The other half, with the narrator named for the author, has pretensions of its own. It’s just not that easy to combine the Holocaust with whimsy and flatulent dogs. Foer has ambition, but the book rubbed me the wrong way.
Jennifer Crusie, Charlie All Night: Short romance that seems like it was conceived before the 1996 publication date - did people still call each other “yuppies” (or “yuppie scum”) in 1996? Anyway, radio producer Allie loses her DJ boyfriend and her prestigious timeslot at the same time, relegated to the graveyard slot with newcomer Charlie, who’s actually in town to investigate an anonymous letter to the radio station owner and has no radio experience at all. Sparks fly; love ensues; marijuana plays a large role, though the principals don’t consume it. I found Crusie’s faith in the self-correcting ability of the legal system touching but misplaced. As I understand is usual with Crusie, the sex wasn’t immediately perfect and the conflicts ran deeper than standard romantic silly barriers standing between true lovers, though given the length of the book the sex had to improve fast and the barriers dissolve quickly.
Jennifer Crusie, Faking It: Tilda Goodnight, mural painter and erstwhile art forger, has a problem: She needs to get a painting back before the buyer realizes it’s a fake and brings her sordid history to light, destroying her family’s art gallery, which is barely scraping by as is. In her first foray into burglary, she encounters another burglar, Davy, who’s there to steal back the money the painting-buyer stole from him. Of course, they end up making out in the closet. This frothy romance, which stirs up the love lives of three generations of Goodnights and a large number of the men they encounter, has an elaborate ending revelations scene that got funny for the sheer number of exclamations and disentanglements. My one complaint is that Tilda is afraid of the legal consequences of the discovery of decades-old forgeries (I’ll give her legitimate concern about the reputational consequences) but apparently never once considered, you know, talking to a lawyer. This is stupid - understandable, but I lost respect for the character. Look, if your car made funny noises for months on end, you needed your car to get to work, and most of your conversations with your family revolved around the funny noises (and if you had a couple hundred dollars in the bank, which these folks did), it would be bizarre not to go to a car expert, that is, a mechanic. If a legal problem consumed your thoughts and threatened your livelihood, you should do likewise. Like Crusie’s other protagonists, Tilda is supposed to be the sensible one whose grounding allows the other people around her to behave ditzily. The sensible thing to do is occasionally to call a lawyer!
Harlan Coben, Tell No One: Eight years ago, Dr. David Beck was attacked and his wife taken and killed by a vicious serial murderer. Now, the discovery of two bodies at the site of the attack leads the police to suspect there’s more to the story - and that Dr. Beck was responsible for his wife’s death. At the same time, Beck starts getting mysterious email messages containing intimate details only his wife could know. Fast-paced and not as credulity-straining as other Coben books I’ve read, though it does depend on the existence of an incredibly well-organized conspiracy. But that’s the fun part, right?
Pat Barker, Another World: Nick and Miranda are married and expecting their second child; each has a pubescent child from a previous marriage. As Nick’s grandfather slides towards death, revisiting old guilt along the way, Nick and Miranda’s marriage is creaking under the strain of their anxieties and obligations. The older two children are experiencing crises of their own, and young Gareth especially is headed down a dangerous path - one that intersects with two-year-old Jasper’s. Barker’s theme is, as usual, the surprising and painful ways in which the past has its claws embedded in the flesh of the present. It’s occasionally excruciating because of the emotional realism about marriage and childrearing, but beautifully written.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated: Jonathan Safran Foer travels to the Ukraine to investigate his grandfather’s history. Aided by Alex, a translator with his own issues, and Alex’s cranky grandfather, they excavate painful truths from WWII, when even collaborators could think of themselves as victims - and be right, even as they were deluding themselves about their own responsibilities. The story here takes a back seat to the style; half of the book is narrated by Alex in fractured English that I think was supposed to transcend stereotype and become some sort of metaphor for something, maybe the difficulty of communicating across any barrier - time, language, gender, whatever. It annoyed the hell out of me. The other half, with the narrator named for the author, has pretensions of its own. It’s just not that easy to combine the Holocaust with whimsy and flatulent dogs. Foer has ambition, but the book rubbed me the wrong way.
Jennifer Crusie, Charlie All Night: Short romance that seems like it was conceived before the 1996 publication date - did people still call each other “yuppies” (or “yuppie scum”) in 1996? Anyway, radio producer Allie loses her DJ boyfriend and her prestigious timeslot at the same time, relegated to the graveyard slot with newcomer Charlie, who’s actually in town to investigate an anonymous letter to the radio station owner and has no radio experience at all. Sparks fly; love ensues; marijuana plays a large role, though the principals don’t consume it. I found Crusie’s faith in the self-correcting ability of the legal system touching but misplaced. As I understand is usual with Crusie, the sex wasn’t immediately perfect and the conflicts ran deeper than standard romantic silly barriers standing between true lovers, though given the length of the book the sex had to improve fast and the barriers dissolve quickly.
Jennifer Crusie, Faking It: Tilda Goodnight, mural painter and erstwhile art forger, has a problem: She needs to get a painting back before the buyer realizes it’s a fake and brings her sordid history to light, destroying her family’s art gallery, which is barely scraping by as is. In her first foray into burglary, she encounters another burglar, Davy, who’s there to steal back the money the painting-buyer stole from him. Of course, they end up making out in the closet. This frothy romance, which stirs up the love lives of three generations of Goodnights and a large number of the men they encounter, has an elaborate ending revelations scene that got funny for the sheer number of exclamations and disentanglements. My one complaint is that Tilda is afraid of the legal consequences of the discovery of decades-old forgeries (I’ll give her legitimate concern about the reputational consequences) but apparently never once considered, you know, talking to a lawyer. This is stupid - understandable, but I lost respect for the character. Look, if your car made funny noises for months on end, you needed your car to get to work, and most of your conversations with your family revolved around the funny noises (and if you had a couple hundred dollars in the bank, which these folks did), it would be bizarre not to go to a car expert, that is, a mechanic. If a legal problem consumed your thoughts and threatened your livelihood, you should do likewise. Like Crusie’s other protagonists, Tilda is supposed to be the sensible one whose grounding allows the other people around her to behave ditzily. The sensible thing to do is occasionally to call a lawyer!
Harlan Coben, Tell No One: Eight years ago, Dr. David Beck was attacked and his wife taken and killed by a vicious serial murderer. Now, the discovery of two bodies at the site of the attack leads the police to suspect there’s more to the story - and that Dr. Beck was responsible for his wife’s death. At the same time, Beck starts getting mysterious email messages containing intimate details only his wife could know. Fast-paced and not as credulity-straining as other Coben books I’ve read, though it does depend on the existence of an incredibly well-organized conspiracy. But that’s the fun part, right?