Salon.com is just so much duller ever since Heather H. left. Their new TV critic has yet to write a column that maintains my intereest. Hell, I can't Salon.com is just so much duller ever since Heather H. left. Their new TV critic has yet to write a column that maintains my intereest. Hell, I can't even remember his name.
Unlike the vastly overhyped "Bossypants", which IMO barely qualified as a "memoir" at all (Fey told us nothing about her life that wasn't already public knowledge), this memoir does not shy away from exploring some of the difficult aspects of Havrilesky's past. This takes courage, but Havrilesky's candor makes this a much more interesting book than "Bossypants", which the Guardian reviewer correctly identified as more of an exercise in concealment:
I bought and read this last November, as a kind of antidote to Julian Barnes's "The Sense of an Ending". The thin gruel of that effort, with its dull,I bought and read this last November, as a kind of antidote to Julian Barnes's "The Sense of an Ending". The thin gruel of that effort, with its dull, forgettable main protagonist left me with an appetite for a real story, with characters that would actually engage the reader's interest. And yes, stretching this tortured metaphor a little farther, Hensher's book satisfied my craving - it's a hearty beef stew (or maybe a bouillabaisse), with a large cast of characters, satisfyingly complex plotting, written with a kind of malicious affection.
The book is set in the fictional seaside town of Hanfield, a kind of smug, upper-middle class enclave. The story opens with the abduction of a child in broad daylight; the subsequent investigation and media frenzy shatters the complacency of locals. As the story progresses, Hensher digs below the surface, exposing the foibles of his characters with a certain malicious glee, but also with affection. The development is more tightly controlled than in the somewhat undisciplined "Northern Clemency", and the writing is excellent.
A good story, well told. I enjoyed it very much....more
Here are some of the opening sentences found in this collection of essays.
To come upon an article in the Times called "The Meaning of Brown Eggs" was Here are some of the opening sentences found in this collection of essays.
To come upon an article in the Times called "The Meaning of Brown Eggs" was an unexpected pleasure. Someone told me the other day that a seagull won't eat a smelt. I spent several days and nights in mid-September with an ailing pig. Mosquitoes have arrived with the warm nights, and our bedchamber is their theater under the stars. I wasn't really prepared for the World's Fair last week, and it certainly wasn't prepared for me. Waking or sleeping, I dream of boats -- usually of rather small boats under a slight press of sail. On any person who desires such queer prizes, New York will bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy. I see by the new Sears Roebuck catalogue that it is still possible to buy an axle for a 1909 Model T Ford, but I am not deceived.
Do I really need to continue? With opening lines like these, you know you are in good hands. 22 of the 31 essays in this collection appeared originally in The New Yorker . Many of the pieces evoke a very particular time and place. They are all so beautifully written that reading them is a pleasure....more
John Hodgman's first book had a certain whimsical appeal. But this book, which goes on for 656 pages, is just way too much of the same old shtick, andJohn Hodgman's first book had a certain whimsical appeal. But this book, which goes on for 656 pages, is just way too much of the same old shtick, and is more annoying than entertaining. The bad news is that he has apparently gone on to write yet a third one. Apparently the world at large has a greater tolerance for Hodgman's essentially one-note meanderings than I do....more
This is the seventh such collection of short pieces by John Updike; it was assembled after his death by Christoper Carduff, on the invitation of UpdikThis is the seventh such collection of short pieces by John Updike; it was assembled after his death by Christoper Carduff, on the invitation of Updike's widow (who is also his literary executor). According to his introduction, Cardiff tried to follow the structure that Updike himself had imposed on the previous six collections; the pieces are organized into five main categories. These are
Real Conversation (stories and poems not included in previous collections, ~ 50 pages) Book Chat (book reviews, pieces about writing and the work of other authors, ~ 150 pages) Gallery Tours (reviews of specific art exhibitions and pieces about the visual arts, ~ 150 pages) Pet Topics (idiosyncratic pieces, spanning a range of topics that piqued Updike's interest, ~ 50 pages) Table Talk (pieces about Updike's own writing, the literary landscape in general, transcriptions of invited addresses ~ 80 pages)
In total, it amounts to a hefty 500 pages. By the time I got to the end, I found myself wishing hard that Cardiff had stopped after the first three sections. 500 pages in hardback is hefty to have to carry around and the last two sections did not sustain my interest.
I believe that essays reflecting an author's personal enthusiasms need to do at least one of two things (preferably both) to succeed: (i) transmit the sense of enthusiasm (i.e. make the reader understand what sparked it) (ii) provide the reader with some fresh insight. I thought the great majority of pieces classified as "Pet Topics" failed -- I get it that Updike was interested in dinosaurs, Mars, specific places in Massachusetts, and (God forgive him) golf, but what he wrote about these topics didn't manage to spark my interest. "Pet Topics" is the weakest part of this collection.
The "Table Talk" pieces were a little more interesting, I particularly appreciated the inclusion of Updike's recommendations on book reviewing. But I have to think that his "x-years later" assessments of his own earlier works will be of interest only to those who have read and enjoyed the works in question. And though I know that including transcripts of an author's presentations is standard practice for this kind of collection, I'm not sure these transcripts necessarily make interesting reading. For instance, Updike's commencement address to the Amherst class of 1993 is interesting only in a negative sense - it seems completely anodyne and totally irrelevant. Nonetheless, the pieces in this section will likely be interesting for true Updike junkies.
The good news is that the first three sections of this book (350 out of 500 pages!) are pretty much uniformly terrific. I've quibbled enough (some might say too much). So let me acknowledge what a joy it is to read Updike's book reviews, that his generous assessments of the works of other authors are inspiring. His writing about art and artists may not match the pyrotechnics of, say, Simon Schama, but it is lucid, persuasive, unpretentious, and highly accessible. The first three sections of this collection are a reminder of Updike's particular strengths, and of how much he will be missed. If the book stopped there, I'd give it 4 stars, but the weaker material towards the end prevents me from doing so....more
Some adjectives that describe this collection of essays by Michael Lewis: smart, clear, entertaining, breezy, moderately informative . They are fun toSome adjectives that describe this collection of essays by Michael Lewis: smart, clear, entertaining, breezy, moderately informative . They are fun to read, and though not heavily researched, probably accurate as far as they go. Each of the five essays collected here first appeared, in slightly different form, in Vanity Fair. Those dealing with foreign economies (Greece, Iceland, Ireland, Germany) appear to be based on visits Lewis made to the countries in question between late 2008 and mid 2011. My Irish cousins were dismissive of his account of the Irish economic meltdown, characterizing it as a "drive-by piece based on a five-day visit". I don't agree. Even if his visit to Ireland was short, his account of events seems essentially accurate to me.
There is a whole slew of books available by now documenting the various abuses and excesses that led to the global financial meltdown (including Lewis's "The Big Short"). It's like a whole new genre of horror stories. Michael Lewis is one of the more entertaining contributors to the genre. ...more
I considered putting this on the "intellectual con artist at work" shelf, but that wouldn't be quite fair. It's not you, Doctor Pennebaker, it's me. II considered putting this on the "intellectual con artist at work" shelf, but that wouldn't be quite fair. It's not you, Doctor Pennebaker, it's me. I have no doubt that the research reported on in this book is genuine, if only because of its excruciatingly tedious nature. Frankly, it's hard to get excited (or even to stay awake) about work that uses word-counting as its primary tool, particularly given Doctor P's fawningly enthusiastic invocation of factor analysis as a legitimate statistical method. Even a reader willing to overlook this (serious) deficiency is likely to be bludgeoned into a state of anesthetized indifference by the pedestrian prose and the sheer banality of the conclusions.
It probably didn't help that I read this book immediately after finishing "Thinking Fast and Slow". Daniel Kahneman's clear, careful, measured exposition reminds us that work in experimental psychology can be reported with lucidity and elegance. The mix of anecdotal evidence, statement of the bloody obvious, and somewhat dubious over-generalization found in this book has to be considered a disappointment. And the whole obsession with pronoun usage seems entirely overblown, and not at all convincing.
Upon reflection, and after reading Trevor's excellent, take-no-prisoners review, (http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...) I have to agree with his assessment and downgrade this to a single star. I will spare Pennebaker the indignity of the "intellectual con artist at work" shelf, if only because I kind of feel sorry for anyone whose life work involves research as pathetically boring as his appears to be. ...more
Percival Everett keeps the reader off balance in this trio of linked mysteries featuring Deputy Sheriff Ogden Walker of Plata, New Mexico. Decently wrPercival Everett keeps the reader off balance in this trio of linked mysteries featuring Deputy Sheriff Ogden Walker of Plata, New Mexico. Decently written, with a final twist that may leave some readers infuriated. Personally, I had to admire the author's cojones. ...more
Emotionally stunted males feature prominently in Julian Barnes's fiction. The narrator/protagonist in this story is such a passive creature that one iEmotionally stunted males feature prominently in Julian Barnes's fiction. The narrator/protagonist in this story is such a passive creature that one is hard put to give a damn what happens to him. He barely seems to care; the author doesn't seem to either, so why should the reader? As one follows his ruminations on his emotionally bankrupt life, the obvious parallel is to "The Remains of the Day". Except that Ishiguro's story unfolds with grace and subtlety, and engages the reader's sympathy. Something that Barnes fails utterly to do. I gave it a second star, because even in the service of an emotionally dead story like this one, Barnes's writing is always well above average. But I hated every page of this annoying book....more
I liked the author's previous short story collection well enough, but this was a major disappointment. The eccentricity that enlivened the short storiI liked the author's previous short story collection well enough, but this was a major disappointment. The eccentricity that enlivened the short stories began to seem more like an annoying stylistic tic on prolonged exposure. And, as other reviewers have pointed out, this whole novel seemed structurally flawed -- the bifurcation into parallel narratives just didn't seem to work at all. I confess to having skimmed the final half just to see if things would get better - they didn't unfortunately.
That said, I still think Karen Russell is a talented writer, and look forward to her future efforts....more
I don't think Allegra Goodman should be blamed because some critics have anointed her a "new Jane Austen"; no author in her right mind would welcome tI don't think Allegra Goodman should be blamed because some critics have anointed her a "new Jane Austen"; no author in her right mind would welcome the inevitable comparisons that go with such a designation. A surprising number of goodreads reviewers appear to have taken the bait, and chastised Ms Goodman for not actually living up to the hype. Quite a few objected to the particular reader who did the audio-book. This doesn't seem completely fair.
The Cookbook Collector is a decent, but flawed, novel. The two main protagonists, sisters Emily and Jess, are well-developed, interesting characters, and Goodman does a good job of making us care about what happens to them. Other characters are less convincing. In particular, neither of the sister's love interests came to life in a credible way -- both seemed little more than an assortment of tics/stereotypes. Plotting was more than a little predictable, and using the 9/11 attacks as a plot resolution device seems regrettably lazy. On the plus side, Goodman writes convincingly about the dot.com culture and is often quite funny. But ultimately, there is too much of an air of wish fulfillment about the story to make it much more than a pleasant, but forgettable, read.
But, what do I know? According to the Wall Street Journal, this book is
Sense and Sensibility meets Pride and Prejudice in Y2K U.S.A.
This was embarrassingly bad, and the news that it has met with broad critical acclaim is infinitely depressing. Take two "damaged" stick figures, defiThis was embarrassingly bad, and the news that it has met with broad critical acclaim is infinitely depressing. Take two "damaged" stick figures, define each only in terms of their 'abnormality', surround them with the standard tableau of distant parents, cruel classmates. Make liberal use of facile, offensive stereotypes, for instance that the only conceivable career option for the emotionally retarded male basket case is to become a mathematician. Because this will allow you to sprinkle in some mumbo-jumbo about prime numbers which will then be taken for some kind of hugely deep meaningful symbolism.
Really, people? This write-by-numbers dreck actually appeals to you? Or did you just give it stars because the author is young and cute? That, at least, I could understand.
This book is formulaic pretentious drivel. My actual rating is closer to zero stars....more
Mercury Rising : One Reviewer's Feverish Reaction to Annoying Trends in Non-fiction Book Titles
Through our secret researches, we were able to discoveMercury Rising : One Reviewer's Feverish Reaction to Annoying Trends in Non-fiction Book Titles
Through our secret researches, we were able to discover some of the rejected titles for this book:
Heavy Metal Madness : A Stroll Through Some of the More Insalubrious Back Alleys of the Periodic Table
CSI Manhattan : Murder and Retribution in the Jazz Age
Where's Fido? : Estimation of the Median Lethal Dose for Some Common Neurotoxins Under Severe Budgetary Constraints
Moonshine and Giblets : Prohibition Era Recipes for Pickling Organ Meats
God-Awful Title : A Pretty Decent Book About the Origins of Forensic Science
Though Deborah Blum is a skillful and engaging writer, this book never quite soared for me. A good editor might have pointed out that presenting a parade of a dozen villainous poisoners is ultimately less affecting than choosing to discuss just one or two. The organization of chapters by compound is a little artificial, but works reasonably well. Including some relevant photos would have greatly improved the book. But these are minor quibbles - this is a well-researched, interesting book. The material relating to Prohibition was unexpected and fascinating.
Despite the author's skill, this book will never match my own little project in the works. At present, all I can share is the bewitching title:
Painted Ladies : The Untold Story of the Two Indomitable Donner Party Survivors Who Founded San Francisco's Most Architecturally Charming Brothel and a Nationwide Cosmetics Distribution Network
Order your copy now. In fact, don't just order it. Order it in advance! ...more
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