Wednesday, March 31, 2004
The Secret History by Donna Tartt
It's been gathering dust on my shelf for ages, following a number of recommendations and finally I've read it. Going on the theory that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything I should probably stop typing about now.
I don't know why I didn't like it - yet when I think about it the people were unpleasant and I wasn't inclined to let them into my life but I had to because I was caught up in the story. Although I couldn't work out why since in the first pages, we'd found out what the tension was leading to. Which also made me disbelieve the style in which it was written - as the written memoirs of the central character many years after the event, I couldn't accept that he remembered so much of certain things which means that subconsciously I couldn't accept the rest of the book.
Also, I decided that art is in many ways a one-sided conversation with the artist so while reading this novel I had to listen to Ms Tartt and although she is obviously very clever, I suspect that in an entirely hypothetical example I may attend a lecture of hers (making doodles on my notes) but should we meet in a party or something along those lines, I would make my excuses and walk away.
It's been gathering dust on my shelf for ages, following a number of recommendations and finally I've read it. Going on the theory that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything I should probably stop typing about now.
I don't know why I didn't like it - yet when I think about it the people were unpleasant and I wasn't inclined to let them into my life but I had to because I was caught up in the story. Although I couldn't work out why since in the first pages, we'd found out what the tension was leading to. Which also made me disbelieve the style in which it was written - as the written memoirs of the central character many years after the event, I couldn't accept that he remembered so much of certain things which means that subconsciously I couldn't accept the rest of the book.
Also, I decided that art is in many ways a one-sided conversation with the artist so while reading this novel I had to listen to Ms Tartt and although she is obviously very clever, I suspect that in an entirely hypothetical example I may attend a lecture of hers (making doodles on my notes) but should we meet in a party or something along those lines, I would make my excuses and walk away.
The Devil and his Boy
The Unholy Grail: A tale of Groosham Grange by Anthony Horowitz
I can't remember exactly what it was that persuaded me to go into the children's section of the library - I think I was following up some old recommendation of a specific Gillian Cross book. But when I got there and couldn't find the specific book I started to look around and saw Anthony Horowitz section. Now South by Southeast was a particular highlight of my childhood for it's clever humour and original, witty storylines. Especially since I've got a bit of a tendency to like spy stories (Hardy boys eat your heart out). So I decided to grab the first two I saw and ended up with these two. Which didn't last long because I sat down and then finished them. Like that.
Looking at his backlog in amazon.co.uk, I now realise that I might have accidentally been in the junior section since it looks like he's written some stuff for older readers. I have no idea what age group the books I read were aimed at except the print was rather large now that I think of it (surely this has to be a fantastic compliment to the author - rather than an indication of my intelligence...). The Devil and his Boy was an adventure yarn of Elizabethan England with a mixture of fact and fiction and faction. The Unholy Grail seemed like a bit of a take-off of Harry Potter but probably was written first. It made some unexpectedly deep commented about morality. All good. Now to check out his older stuff...
The Unholy Grail: A tale of Groosham Grange by Anthony Horowitz
I can't remember exactly what it was that persuaded me to go into the children's section of the library - I think I was following up some old recommendation of a specific Gillian Cross book. But when I got there and couldn't find the specific book I started to look around and saw Anthony Horowitz section. Now South by Southeast was a particular highlight of my childhood for it's clever humour and original, witty storylines. Especially since I've got a bit of a tendency to like spy stories (Hardy boys eat your heart out). So I decided to grab the first two I saw and ended up with these two. Which didn't last long because I sat down and then finished them. Like that.
Looking at his backlog in amazon.co.uk, I now realise that I might have accidentally been in the junior section since it looks like he's written some stuff for older readers. I have no idea what age group the books I read were aimed at except the print was rather large now that I think of it (surely this has to be a fantastic compliment to the author - rather than an indication of my intelligence...). The Devil and his Boy was an adventure yarn of Elizabethan England with a mixture of fact and fiction and faction. The Unholy Grail seemed like a bit of a take-off of Harry Potter but probably was written first. It made some unexpectedly deep commented about morality. All good. Now to check out his older stuff...
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
That was then, this is now by S. E. Hinton
I have loved Ms Hinton's work since the moment I began the third page of her debut novel, the now classic teenager novel and terrible brat-pack movie, The Outsiders. In fact the only point where I held anything other than grateful emotions to this author was when I discovered that she only ever wrote five adult(ish) books. So I picked up this book to follow through the fact that I can't face anything too taxing, intellectually or emotionally. (Yes, I am a coward.) Which isn't to say her books aren't either of these things, but that, given their market (young adult, read: teenager), there's plenty of narrative to fool me into thinking that it's not (intelligent or emotive).
Perhaps of all her books (like J.K. Rowling, the use of initials is very deliberate with regards to its appeal to a male audience) this was the one I knew the least, since I'm pretty much able to quote off large chunks of The Outsiders, Tex and Taming of the Star Runner (her most famous book was Rumblefish which I never quite got) at will. Yet, I was happy to discover that it's a strong character novel, whose plot centres entirely one two boys, Bryon and Mark, brought up as brothers and the way their lives change as the relationship alters owing to their developing personalities. Both are scarily believable (not scary because of who they turn out to be but the extent to which it's possible to recognise the truth of their characters in the author's words) and as such the story has a haunting quality which is surprisingly entertaining. And none too taxing.
I have loved Ms Hinton's work since the moment I began the third page of her debut novel, the now classic teenager novel and terrible brat-pack movie, The Outsiders. In fact the only point where I held anything other than grateful emotions to this author was when I discovered that she only ever wrote five adult(ish) books. So I picked up this book to follow through the fact that I can't face anything too taxing, intellectually or emotionally. (Yes, I am a coward.) Which isn't to say her books aren't either of these things, but that, given their market (young adult, read: teenager), there's plenty of narrative to fool me into thinking that it's not (intelligent or emotive).
Perhaps of all her books (like J.K. Rowling, the use of initials is very deliberate with regards to its appeal to a male audience) this was the one I knew the least, since I'm pretty much able to quote off large chunks of The Outsiders, Tex and Taming of the Star Runner (her most famous book was Rumblefish which I never quite got) at will. Yet, I was happy to discover that it's a strong character novel, whose plot centres entirely one two boys, Bryon and Mark, brought up as brothers and the way their lives change as the relationship alters owing to their developing personalities. Both are scarily believable (not scary because of who they turn out to be but the extent to which it's possible to recognise the truth of their characters in the author's words) and as such the story has a haunting quality which is surprisingly entertaining. And none too taxing.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Drowning Ruth by Christina Schwarz
I picked this up in some charity shop in York at least a year ago. There were no recommendations and it's certainly not the kind of book that would normally attract my interest but I remember seeing several copies in several charity shops quite repeatedly and it was this, I suspect, that caught my attention. However picking it up now, in the search for an easy, entertaining yarm (as a antidote to the political storm of the lastest history I'd finished and a particularly gruelling rugby match) I noticed that it was a complimentary copy that came free with Women&Home - obviously a popular title up north (though I've never heard of it).
However this wasn't enough to put me off and I've read it pretty voraciously. And guess that I liked it. Enough to finish it. I never thought that that meant much until recently when I discovered that there are certain things I just can't read. It's not as cut and dried as most trashy novels - although things do, unsurprisingly, work out in our heroines' favour. But there's an interesting bit where I thought that the heroine might turn out to be an antiheroine but this didn't happen. Unfortunately. It might have given the book some depth.
Near the beginning I imagined ranting on this blog about that irritating fashion of creating pregnancies and babies out of a single night of sex. I know it does happen but seriously, if you read these books (the kind read by Women&Home readers) you would think that it happens every time. Which is why (PLOT SPOILER FOR COLD MOUNTAIN WARNING) I appreciated that it didn't happen in Cold Mountain and why it pissed me off that they added it to the film. However as the book progressed I realised that it was a central plot device and not some romantically twisted effort to make a political stance about population and procreation. Ho hum.
I picked this up in some charity shop in York at least a year ago. There were no recommendations and it's certainly not the kind of book that would normally attract my interest but I remember seeing several copies in several charity shops quite repeatedly and it was this, I suspect, that caught my attention. However picking it up now, in the search for an easy, entertaining yarm (as a antidote to the political storm of the lastest history I'd finished and a particularly gruelling rugby match) I noticed that it was a complimentary copy that came free with Women&Home - obviously a popular title up north (though I've never heard of it).
However this wasn't enough to put me off and I've read it pretty voraciously. And guess that I liked it. Enough to finish it. I never thought that that meant much until recently when I discovered that there are certain things I just can't read. It's not as cut and dried as most trashy novels - although things do, unsurprisingly, work out in our heroines' favour. But there's an interesting bit where I thought that the heroine might turn out to be an antiheroine but this didn't happen. Unfortunately. It might have given the book some depth.
Near the beginning I imagined ranting on this blog about that irritating fashion of creating pregnancies and babies out of a single night of sex. I know it does happen but seriously, if you read these books (the kind read by Women&Home readers) you would think that it happens every time. Which is why (PLOT SPOILER FOR COLD MOUNTAIN WARNING) I appreciated that it didn't happen in Cold Mountain and why it pissed me off that they added it to the film. However as the book progressed I realised that it was a central plot device and not some romantically twisted effort to make a political stance about population and procreation. Ho hum.
The No-Nonsense Guide to World History by Chris Brazier
This was one of the recent non-movers which has been swept along by the recent tide of reading. It was not a book I might generally read - definitely one that I would choose repetitively but not often open. Since I got it free through a New Internationalist promotion (for subscribing) I decided that it would be part of the new efficient politically aware me and so begun it. However reading a history with such an overt bias may be somewhat refreshing but is also quite offputting. Comments like 'we generally remember ancient civilizations best by those buildings which most explouted the labor of ordinary people and most glorified the vanity of a single autocrat' (p. 26) may be true (what is true?) but may not be. I don't know. This book confused me and I enjoyed it. However I suspect that there is a case for arguing that there is too much honesty - about the authors partiality and the brevity that undermines its credibility.
It was however very imformative and I appreciated learning much about things that I was only vaguely aware of, including the cause of the Maori wars and the extent of sexism in historical and scientific theories - resulting, among other things, the theory that women's breasts evolved out of a need to attract the hominid men to frontal sex (ignoring, or perhaps not understanding their feeding implications)!! A good, inspiring read for a set-in-stone leftist like myself.
This was one of the recent non-movers which has been swept along by the recent tide of reading. It was not a book I might generally read - definitely one that I would choose repetitively but not often open. Since I got it free through a New Internationalist promotion (for subscribing) I decided that it would be part of the new efficient politically aware me and so begun it. However reading a history with such an overt bias may be somewhat refreshing but is also quite offputting. Comments like 'we generally remember ancient civilizations best by those buildings which most explouted the labor of ordinary people and most glorified the vanity of a single autocrat' (p. 26) may be true (what is true?) but may not be. I don't know. This book confused me and I enjoyed it. However I suspect that there is a case for arguing that there is too much honesty - about the authors partiality and the brevity that undermines its credibility.
It was however very imformative and I appreciated learning much about things that I was only vaguely aware of, including the cause of the Maori wars and the extent of sexism in historical and scientific theories - resulting, among other things, the theory that women's breasts evolved out of a need to attract the hominid men to frontal sex (ignoring, or perhaps not understanding their feeding implications)!! A good, inspiring read for a set-in-stone leftist like myself.
