Turning Booklogese
211. The Magicians and Mrs. Quent, Galen Beckett - Fascinating and frustrating alt-Victorian fantasy, à la Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell…except really nothing like that at all. Beckett uses two of the most famous 19th century novels, Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre, as a jumping off point for an epic fantasy set in an alternate England in which magic is a common-enough aspiration for lords, but which cannot be (or is forbidden to be?) performed by women. There are some very cool ideas at play here-I love the eerie touch that in this world, days and nights vary wildly in length, leaving room for an extra allotment of time to spend cloaked in unpredictable darkness-but at times Beckett leans too heavily on the works he is paying tribute to.
This is especially true in the middle, Bronte-inspired section; where in the earlier parts of the novel, the characters of Ivy and Rafferdy were clearly the Elizabeth and Darcy stand-ins, at least they had their own personalities and their own relationship that was allowed to develop naturally. When Ivy travels to Heathcrest (har. Get it?) and becomes acquainted with Mr. Quent, their relationship is pretty much glossed over; I think we’re supposed to assume they fall in love because Jane and Mr. Rochester do. Nevertheless, the overall mystery-seriously, what is up with magic in this place?-is compelling…and frustratingly, not to be resolved in this volume. So I will definitely be picking up the sequel, first and foremost to find out what the hell is going on, but also because I genuinely like and care about what happens to the characters.
Also, if Garritt does not turn out to be gay for his new actor friend, I will eat my hat. Or, not owning a hat, I will go out and buy one, then eat it. Srsly.
212. After Dark, Haruki Murakami - What a revelatory experience! I read it in one sitting; I was utterly entranced. My brother has been promoting Murakami’s work for years, but I pretty much ignored him because his literary tastes trend toward the incredibly pretentious; sometimes I think his philosophy is “the more obscure, depressing, and French, the better!” Well, I shouldn’t have dismissed him-either my brother or Murakami-so quickly.
The story takes place over the course of a single night, one which 19-year-old Mari decides to spend wandering the streets of Tokyo rather than go home to her troubled family. Murakami’s descriptions of the parts of the city that never sleep-all-night Denny’s and convenience stores, love hotels and not-quite-abandoned office buildings-are as hypnotic as a swirling kaleidoscope of flashing neon lights, and the wandering conversations Mari has with the people she meets are no less compelling. This is well worth losing sleep over.
213. A Small and Remarkable Life, Nick DiChario - An unusual first contact story set in the 19th century Adirondacks. I found this interesting, but not fascinating; it didn’t blow me away. But if you’re looking for an atypical bit of sci-fi, this is worth picking up.
How’s that for a small and utterly unremarkable review?
214. American Born Chinese, Gene Luen Yang - Really cool graphic novel that presents three different stories in alternating chapters: a retelling of a Chinese legend, the story of a Chinese-American boy who moves from San Francisco to a predominately Caucasian neighborhood, and a look at a weird sitcom-like world whose “humor” is based on the worst Chinese stereotypes. The art is vibrant and fun, and the way the three stories come together is incredibly clever and cool. Definitely recommended.
215. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami - My brother’s favorite Murakami book, and I can see why: every sentence feels perfect, building to each perfectly distilled image, creating an overall sense of atmosphere and emotion that’s just overwhelmingly beautiful and sad. Already I can see that I will not be able to do this book justice, turning at once to overwrought, cymbals-clashing praise, which is the exact opposite of what Murakami achieves in this book. He is always understated, never melodramatic, and he peppers this story of loss with enough humor to keep it warm and real. Okay, let’s just say this: he writes about doing laundry in a way that makes me want to do laundry. Laundry. I rest my case.
216. Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy - A book about senseless violence that mostly just made me bored senseless. If you’re tired of valuing human life and want to instead be reduced to thinking, “Oh, ho-hum, another scalping, another massacre,” this is the book for you! McCarthy’s prose is so convoluted in this book that half the time I could hardly tell what was going on (typically: someone was being killed). The beautiful pieces of description that I appreciated in The Road were few and far between. I didn’t care about anyone or see the point at all, to be frank. This book is often compared to Moby-Dick, but I don’t see it: in comparison to McCarthy’s, Melville’s prose is as easy to understand as Dick and Jane, and his book is full of memorable characters whose dark fates fill you with dread and sadness. So maybe I just don’t get it.
Or: maybe McCarthy is hugely overrated. I’m willing to wait this one out.
217. Books of Magick: Life During Wartime: Vol. 1, Si Spencer - A Books of Magic AU in which everything is very different from the world Neil Gaiman first laid out. Namely, everyone is an unsympathetic asshole. Strictly as a horror comic, this is pretty awesome-Spencer has a lot of ideas that are original and very scary. But he made me hate everybody, including characters I usually love. A universe where you’ve got no reason to root for John Constantine is a sad, sad place, and I don’t want to hang out there.
218. Laika, Nick Abadzis - This book should be called Laika, or Please Enjoy Sobbing Hysterically Over a Dog That’s Been Dead for Sixty Years. My guess is you will; I did. This graphic novel starts slowly, but once it gets going it’s a beautifully illustrated story about duty, freedom, sacrifice, destiny, unrequited love, and the original space dog-all that good stuff. I cried like a baby and I wasn’t even PMSing. Damn.
219. Good Bones and Simple Murders, Margaret Atwood - I have a weird love/hate relationship with Margaret Atwood. She has the capacity to intrigue and delight me, then rapidly switch to annoying the crap out of me, often in a matter of pages-maybe even paragraphs. There’s a certain…smugness, I guess, to her prose style that crops up sometimes and it makes me want to beat her monotonously-voiced narrators about the head with the particular volume I’m in the middle of. Luckily for them, this book is quite small-and all the stories in it are quite short, which meant my opinions vacillated even more rapidly than usual.
I just spent a moment trying to think if there are any other authors who provoke this reaction in me. The answer: Chuck Klosterman. Now I kind of want to make Chuck and Margaret have tea and, let’s see, listen to the musical stylings of KISS together. Yes. Yes, I need this now.
220. The Elephant Vanishes, Haruki Murakami - Short stories, among which are definitely the most surreal examples of Murakami’s work I’ve read so far. I love the sly humor of a lot of these (“The Second Bakery Attack”) and some (“Sleep,” “The Dancing Dwarf”) are creepy enough to rival the Koji Suzuki I’ve read. Overall, I like Murakami’s long-form work better-a novel gives him more time to build atmosphere and create a world-but then, the same could be said for almost any author I enjoy. Oooh, I think I’m throwing down! Novels > Short Stories - discuss!
Total Reviews: 220/264
This is especially true in the middle, Bronte-inspired section; where in the earlier parts of the novel, the characters of Ivy and Rafferdy were clearly the Elizabeth and Darcy stand-ins, at least they had their own personalities and their own relationship that was allowed to develop naturally. When Ivy travels to Heathcrest (har. Get it?) and becomes acquainted with Mr. Quent, their relationship is pretty much glossed over; I think we’re supposed to assume they fall in love because Jane and Mr. Rochester do. Nevertheless, the overall mystery-seriously, what is up with magic in this place?-is compelling…and frustratingly, not to be resolved in this volume. So I will definitely be picking up the sequel, first and foremost to find out what the hell is going on, but also because I genuinely like and care about what happens to the characters.
Also, if Garritt does not turn out to be gay for his new actor friend, I will eat my hat. Or, not owning a hat, I will go out and buy one, then eat it. Srsly.
212. After Dark, Haruki Murakami - What a revelatory experience! I read it in one sitting; I was utterly entranced. My brother has been promoting Murakami’s work for years, but I pretty much ignored him because his literary tastes trend toward the incredibly pretentious; sometimes I think his philosophy is “the more obscure, depressing, and French, the better!” Well, I shouldn’t have dismissed him-either my brother or Murakami-so quickly.
The story takes place over the course of a single night, one which 19-year-old Mari decides to spend wandering the streets of Tokyo rather than go home to her troubled family. Murakami’s descriptions of the parts of the city that never sleep-all-night Denny’s and convenience stores, love hotels and not-quite-abandoned office buildings-are as hypnotic as a swirling kaleidoscope of flashing neon lights, and the wandering conversations Mari has with the people she meets are no less compelling. This is well worth losing sleep over.
213. A Small and Remarkable Life, Nick DiChario - An unusual first contact story set in the 19th century Adirondacks. I found this interesting, but not fascinating; it didn’t blow me away. But if you’re looking for an atypical bit of sci-fi, this is worth picking up.
How’s that for a small and utterly unremarkable review?
214. American Born Chinese, Gene Luen Yang - Really cool graphic novel that presents three different stories in alternating chapters: a retelling of a Chinese legend, the story of a Chinese-American boy who moves from San Francisco to a predominately Caucasian neighborhood, and a look at a weird sitcom-like world whose “humor” is based on the worst Chinese stereotypes. The art is vibrant and fun, and the way the three stories come together is incredibly clever and cool. Definitely recommended.
215. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami - My brother’s favorite Murakami book, and I can see why: every sentence feels perfect, building to each perfectly distilled image, creating an overall sense of atmosphere and emotion that’s just overwhelmingly beautiful and sad. Already I can see that I will not be able to do this book justice, turning at once to overwrought, cymbals-clashing praise, which is the exact opposite of what Murakami achieves in this book. He is always understated, never melodramatic, and he peppers this story of loss with enough humor to keep it warm and real. Okay, let’s just say this: he writes about doing laundry in a way that makes me want to do laundry. Laundry. I rest my case.
216. Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy - A book about senseless violence that mostly just made me bored senseless. If you’re tired of valuing human life and want to instead be reduced to thinking, “Oh, ho-hum, another scalping, another massacre,” this is the book for you! McCarthy’s prose is so convoluted in this book that half the time I could hardly tell what was going on (typically: someone was being killed). The beautiful pieces of description that I appreciated in The Road were few and far between. I didn’t care about anyone or see the point at all, to be frank. This book is often compared to Moby-Dick, but I don’t see it: in comparison to McCarthy’s, Melville’s prose is as easy to understand as Dick and Jane, and his book is full of memorable characters whose dark fates fill you with dread and sadness. So maybe I just don’t get it.
Or: maybe McCarthy is hugely overrated. I’m willing to wait this one out.
217. Books of Magick: Life During Wartime: Vol. 1, Si Spencer - A Books of Magic AU in which everything is very different from the world Neil Gaiman first laid out. Namely, everyone is an unsympathetic asshole. Strictly as a horror comic, this is pretty awesome-Spencer has a lot of ideas that are original and very scary. But he made me hate everybody, including characters I usually love. A universe where you’ve got no reason to root for John Constantine is a sad, sad place, and I don’t want to hang out there.
218. Laika, Nick Abadzis - This book should be called Laika, or Please Enjoy Sobbing Hysterically Over a Dog That’s Been Dead for Sixty Years. My guess is you will; I did. This graphic novel starts slowly, but once it gets going it’s a beautifully illustrated story about duty, freedom, sacrifice, destiny, unrequited love, and the original space dog-all that good stuff. I cried like a baby and I wasn’t even PMSing. Damn.
219. Good Bones and Simple Murders, Margaret Atwood - I have a weird love/hate relationship with Margaret Atwood. She has the capacity to intrigue and delight me, then rapidly switch to annoying the crap out of me, often in a matter of pages-maybe even paragraphs. There’s a certain…smugness, I guess, to her prose style that crops up sometimes and it makes me want to beat her monotonously-voiced narrators about the head with the particular volume I’m in the middle of. Luckily for them, this book is quite small-and all the stories in it are quite short, which meant my opinions vacillated even more rapidly than usual.
I just spent a moment trying to think if there are any other authors who provoke this reaction in me. The answer: Chuck Klosterman. Now I kind of want to make Chuck and Margaret have tea and, let’s see, listen to the musical stylings of KISS together. Yes. Yes, I need this now.
220. The Elephant Vanishes, Haruki Murakami - Short stories, among which are definitely the most surreal examples of Murakami’s work I’ve read so far. I love the sly humor of a lot of these (“The Second Bakery Attack”) and some (“Sleep,” “The Dancing Dwarf”) are creepy enough to rival the Koji Suzuki I’ve read. Overall, I like Murakami’s long-form work better-a novel gives him more time to build atmosphere and create a world-but then, the same could be said for almost any author I enjoy. Oooh, I think I’m throwing down! Novels > Short Stories - discuss!
Total Reviews: 220/264