I received a free advance copy from NetGalley for review.
And so begin the adventures of Lucas Davenport Jr.
Wait, I guess it’s technically the adventurI received a free advance copy from NetGalley for review.
And so begin the adventures of Lucas Davenport Jr.
Wait, I guess it’s technically the adventures of Letty, the adopted daughter of super-cop Lucas Davenport, but calling her Davenport Jr. is still accurate because she is definitely a chip off the old block. In fact, she may be even more dangerous than her father.
Letty has come a long way since we first met her when she was a desperately poor kid who had to depend on herself rather than her alcoholic mother. Her life got much better once Lucas Davenport and his wife took her in, but she’s remained an independent pragmatist capable of making tough choices and taking action when its needed. Now in her early ‘20s and just out of college, Letty is working in the office of a US senator, but she’s bored with it and thinking of moving on. After she pulls a couple of bold moves to help catch an embezzler, the senator wants Letty to check into an odd problem and offers her a spot with Homeland Security as an investigator.
Some petroleum companies in west Texas think that someone has been stealing oil from them, and there’s a suspicion that a right-wing militia group might be responsible. The amount of money involved is small for an oil company, but it’d fund a lot of domestic terrorism so Letty gets teamed up with an ex-soldier named John Kaiser to try and sort it out. Letty and Kaiser start by investigating the disappearance of an oil company employee who had been looking into the thefts. Soon enough Letty and Kaiser figure out that something big is in the works, and they may be the only people who might be able to stop a catastrophic attack.
Letty was introduced as a character in the Prey novels almost 20 years ago, and I’ve often suspected that Sandford would someday do a book or series with her in the lead. (In reality, Letty would be in her 30s by now, but Sandford characters exist in a slowed down version of reality.) She’s been a big part of several of the books, often driving her adopted father crazy by her stubborn insistence on doing things her way, but also saving the day a couple of times. Despite the Prey books having one successful spin-off series with the Virgil Flower novels, I was always a little uneasy about how Letty seemed destined to be the hero of a Sandford thriller someday. I’m not sure why, it just seemed like nepotism even if these are all fictional characters.
However, at one point in one of the recent books Lucas and Letty had a conversation which indicated that she wasn’t interested in a career in law enforcement so it seemed like maybe Sandford was letting us know that the long teased Letty-book would never happen. Yet here we are so I don’t know if this was always the plan, or if something changed, but it did seem a little odd to me.
I got nervous right at the start of this one when Letty is pulling a break-in to investigate the embezzling going on at one of the senator’s campaign offices. She has several tricks to get into an office building that Sandford has used before in both the Davenport and Kidd novels, so I was instantly worried that this was just going to be a rehash of things done before with just a new character in the lead.
As usual, I was wrong to doubt Sandford.
While that opening was familiar, Letty quickly establishes herself as a different person than Lucas, Virgil Flowers, Kidd, or any other Sandford hero. Like all of them, Letty is smart, resourceful, and capable of pulling a sneaky and/or illegal move when necessary, but what sets her apart is that Letty has what might best be described as a mean streak. Yeah, Lucas could be a real bastard when necessary, and capable of outright murder when the situation calls for it. But Letty takes that a step further and seems even more ruthless than her father at times.
The plot of this one also seems like Sandford kicked things up a notch. There’s the usual cat-and-mouse thing where he follows the bad guys for part of the book and lets us know some of what they’re planning, but just enough is held back to give us some twists and turns. The last act is one of the biggest and most ambitious things to happen in any of the books. A few years back, I might have said that it seemed unlikely, but these days, it sounds horrifyingly plausible.
Through it all, we’ve got Letty doing a lot of good detective work as she’s hot on the trail of the militia, and while she’s already a force to be reckoned with, there are still things for her to learn as well so she doesn’t seem too perfect as an action hero. The partner Kaiser provides a nice counterpoint to her as a veteran soldier who knows a lot about some aspects of the job, but he isn’t really an investigator so lets Letty take point.
It's just once again Sandford doing what he does so well, creating a high-octane mystery-thriller that keeps you turning pages. If the next book also stars Letty, I won’t be disappointed....more
I had high hopes for this and it started with an incredible opening sentence. But the whole thing remained curiously flat to me despite some detailed I had high hopes for this and it started with an incredible opening sentence. But the whole thing remained curiously flat to me despite some detailed sympathetic characters and an interesting premise. I think my reaction may have more to do with my state of mind than the book itself. It’s the middle of a long hot summer, and my literary cravings are running to crime thrillers and sci-fi that I can easily absorb as I cower from the sun in the house with the central AC on so high that the senses become numb. Or to shake off the frostbite, I’ll brave the heat on the shady part of the deck but it takes a lot of cold beer to make that tolerable. Those conditions aren’t ripe for books that make you think too much.
In the early 1700s in Peru, five random travelers are in the wrong place at the wrong time when crossing an old Incan bridge and go splat. A priest got obsessed on figuring out if those victims ‘deserved’ their fate any more than the lucky bastards who just missed being on the bridge. The book gives a glimpse at the trials and tribulations of the people who died and the circumstances that had them on the bridge at that exact moment.
There’s some great writing and good characters here, but there’s also an aloofness that makes you feel above caring about what happened to these people. From the afterward in this edition, Wilder deliberately kept the reader at a distance so that we can view what happened somewhat dispassionately. For my taste, he did it a little too well because this didn’t have much emotional impact to me. This is one that I ended up admiring as a technical accomplishment rather than liking as a story. ...more
Graham Greene’s classic account of a priest living on the run in a Mexican state after socialists have taken political control and are trying to abolish the Catholic Church is a grim tale of human nature at it’s best and worst. The unnamed priest is a drunk who isn’t particularly brave and has committed sins big enough to register fairly high on he Catholic Guilt-O-Meter. Even as he flees, he half-hopes to be captured and end his miserable life on the run, but he still tries to cling to his duty and faith by holding Mass and hearing confessions when possible.
The priest is being pursued by a Lieutenant, a committed socialist who hates the Chruch for the way it milked the poor for every peso, yet while he believes he’s doing the best thing for the peasants, he won’t hesitate to kill some of them in an attempt to get the priest to be given up by the locals. It’s a classic portrayal of someone who puts their ideology above actual people.
This is my second Graham Greene book, and like The Heart of the Matter this one has a lot to do with Catholic ideas of what damns and redeems someone. I liked it, but as a non-Catholic, I hate seeing characters tied in knots because of dogma. I tend to see their worrying about their eternal damnation for not being able to perform a ritual as kind of silly and pointless. Still, Greene’s good enough to make me sympathize with the plight of the priest, and it’s a powerful story....more
Falconer Correctional Facility certainly sounds dreary and no place I’d want to spend any time, but it doesn’t seem nearly as bad as many fictional prFalconer Correctional Facility certainly sounds dreary and no place I’d want to spend any time, but it doesn’t seem nearly as bad as many fictional prisons. In fact, it seems pretty dull. There weren’t any beatings from brutal guards. There’s no racial tension evident. No one gets shivved or shanked. The only riot in the story actually takes place at another prison and isn’t discussed in detail. There’s no escape tunnels being dug through walls. Compared to fictional prisons like Oz or Shawshank, Falconer seems like a Sandals Resort.
Farragut is a new inmate who was convicted of killing his brother. He’s a drug addict on methadone, and came from a formerly rich family. In a typical prison story he’d be fresh meat, but the worst thing that happens to him in Falconer is getting his watch stolen and a bad episode of methadone withdrawl. Other than that, Farragut mainly sits around listening to the other prisoner’s bitch and reflecting on his life. He falls in love with another inmate and has some tense moments when a neighboring prison has an Attica style riot and hostage situation that makes the Falconer guards nervous, but that’s about it.
This is a curiously ‘meh’ story to me. I was expecting a lot more from a book that was named one of Time’s 100 best novels. It’s not bad, and I don’t think I wasted my time reading it. However, when I was done, all I could think was, “Is that it?”...more
How about a story where the narrator is an absolute pig who spends most of the novel blind drunk as he careens from blackout to blackout while being aHow about a story where the narrator is an absolute pig who spends most of the novel blind drunk as he careens from blackout to blackout while being a completely self-absorbed and oblivious asshole who survives on a diet of fast food and pornography? He’s also the kind of guy who gets in bar brawls and occasionally smacks women around. Sound like fun?
Actually, it is.
John Self is a British director of crass TV commercials who is about to make his first movie with an American producer. John ping-pongs between New York and London as he deals with incredibly difficult actors and an increasingly demanding girl friend. Along the way, he also meets a writer named Martin Amis, and he’s hounded by threatening phone calls from someone who claims that John ruined his life. All the while he spends vast amounts of money to support his lifestyle and buy his way out of trouble.
Alcoholic John is completely clueless as to what a massive asshat he is and can’t understand anyone not motivated by greed. He’s just smart enough to realize that money is the only thing that allows him to act the way he does and to feel vaguely disgruntled with his life, but he’s so committed to constant instant gratification that he can’t imagine living any other way. He’s Hunter S. Thompson without the intelligence and rage. He’s Charlie Sheen without the tiger blood and a webcast. He’s that drunken fucktard you hope doesn’t sit next to you on the plane, but if he does, you’ll have stories to tell your friends for hours.
The reckless adventures that John has frequently end in humiliation for him, although he’s not always smart or sober enough to understand that he should be embarrassed. Amis does a magnificent job of making his points through John’s musings without beating the reader over the head with them. My only complaint is that there were points that seemed to get a bit repetitive with multiple blackouts and humiliations that John suffers.
If you can’t stand books with unlikable characters in the lead, then stay away from this. If you’ve got the stomach to hear out a booze soaked moron in order to get a blisteringly funny take on a culture that worships money, then check this book out....more
At first glance, Willie Stark seems like he would have been the perfect Tea Party candidate. He uses fiery rhetoric to stir up crowds by claiming to bAt first glance, Willie Stark seems like he would have been the perfect Tea Party candidate. He uses fiery rhetoric to stir up crowds by claiming to be just like them and that he’s going to bust the heads of those evil ole politicians at the state house to force them the straighten up and do things the right way. But on the other hand, Willie actually knows something about government and uses his tactics to improve the lives of poor people by taxing the wealthy and using that money to do things like improve roads and provide free health care so maybe he wouldn’t fit in with Sarah Palin after all.
This classic novel tells the story of Willie Stark through the eyes of Jack Burden. Jack came from a privileged background but eventually turned his back on that life and became a cynical political newspaper reporter in an unnamed corrupt southern state. When Jack first meets Stark, he thinks of him as ’Cousin Willie from the country.’ because of his rube manner. Stark is a smart, hardworking and principled county commissioner, but he gets in over his head when he tries to award a government contract to the actual best bid and the corrupt politicians trash him for it.
Then Stark is tricked into running for governor by the state political machine to split the rural vote and make sure that the party favorite wins. Stark had been getting nowhere with his carefully planned speeches that patiently explained needed changes to the tax codes and other government business, but when he finds out he’s been played for a fool, Stark finds his voice as an angry hick who is tired of being abused by the politicians. Using his new populist tactics of playing up his upbringing as a poor farm boy who taught himself law at nights and promises to kick the collective ass of the political good-ole-boy network, Stark eventually does win the governorship, and Jack joins him as his political hatchet man.
Stark no longer cares about doing things the right way. He becomes a political force in the state through a combination of bullying, cajoling or bribing anyone who gets in his way. To Willie’s way of thinking, the state is full of sons-of-bitches that he either has to buy or break to get things done, and he is now fully convinced that the ends justify the means. He does actually follow through on his promises to try and help the common people of the state, but many consider him even more dangerous than the corrupt people he’s fighting.
Jack has no problems with the way that Willie runs thing until the governor gets angry at the incorruptible Judge Irwin for backing a rival in an election. When Willie can’t charm or bully the Judge into falling into line, he orders Jack to dig up some dirt on the man. However, Jack has known and admired the Judge since childhood so he has reservations about the assignment. Trying to find the Judge’s dirty laundry brings back Jack’s issues with his mother and father, and the girl he loved and lost, Anne Stanton. Things get even stickier when Willie decides that the only man to run his new pet project, a huge modern hospital, is Ann’s brother and Jack’s childhood friend, Adam.
I absolutely loved the way that Stark is portrayed in this book. It was inspired by Huey P. Long in Louisiana, a politician who accomplished a lot for the poor of his state but did so with highly questionable methods. Willie does indeed want to protect the common people from the ‘sons-of-bitches’ who have let the state wallow in poverty and neglect while lining their pockets, but this isn’t a simple case of power corrupting either. Willie always had a lot of ambitions for his political career, and he tried to play it straight at first because he thought that‘s how it was done. Once he saw the ugliness of reality behind the scenes, Willie seemingly adopts the same tactics without a second thought. Power didn’t change Willie, he changed to get and keep power, and he seems to relish his opportunities to take revenge on the types who screwed him over early in his career.
Warren’s prose is elegant and lyrical. He brings an entire region alive with a cast that includes everyone from the high society to the poorest farmers. His descriptions are so good that you can almost feel the humidity and hear the insects at times. However, he did tend to go on a bit long for my taste when relaying Jack’s personal history and insights. I would have liked more of Willie laying on the charm or ruthlessly taking down an opponent.
They say that watching government work is like watching sausage get made. Everyone wants the finished product, but no one wants to see how it‘s done. This story gives weight to this idea. It’s something that will make any reader think about whether one can get anything done in a democracy without deals being cut or threats being made. Even if the goal is accomplished, is the whole thing tainted because of how it came about? And how can a person with even the best of intentions work in a system like this without becoming corrupted? ...more
Most of us have one big advantage over rich people and fictional characters when it comes to dealing with our personal issues. For example, look at MoMost of us have one big advantage over rich people and fictional characters when it comes to dealing with our personal issues. For example, look at Moses Herzog in this book. Herzog goes through an ugly divorce, and his circumstances allow him to wallow in his misery and behave erratically for months. I’m sure any of us in similar circumstances would like to put our lives on hold as we picked at our emotional scabs while ignoring our jobs and taking trips across Europe.
However, most of us don’t get that luxury. Those are usually the times when we can least afford to screw up so even though all you really want to do is hide under the covers or drink heavily or eat ice cream or drink heavily while eating ice cream under the covers, we gotta get up and go to work. And pay the bills. And do the laundry. And get the oil changed in the car.
And that’s to our advantage. Because getting over something like a divorce means moving on, even if you’re faking it half the time. Eventually, you’re not faking it anymore, you are actually living your life, and that’s how you finally recover.
Or you just completely lose your shit and end up getting stuck in endless loops inside your own head as you ping pong from one impulsive thought and whim to another until you’re completely unable to tell the good ideas from the bad. Like Moses Herzog. If he would have had to get off his ass and go back to work rather than mooching off his family then he might not have gone cuckoo for Coco-Puffs and come unglued while writing a series of bizarre letters to family, friends, celebrities and dead historical figures.
Yes, I know that Saul Bellow was using Herzog to make a statement about how a modern man viewed his life and society in the ‘60s, and the writing is as good as his reputation. But I just couldn’t get into it, mainly because I wanted someone to give Moses a brisk slap and tell him to grow up and get over himself. I didn’t dislike the character, I actually felt bad for him. That just made me wish even more that Herzog could start pulling his life back together instead of indulging in his self-involved musings....more
It’s been over 20 years since the Berlin Wall fell, and as someone who grew up in the 1970s - 80s, reading about dueling Cold War spies gave me a weirIt’s been over 20 years since the Berlin Wall fell, and as someone who grew up in the 1970s - 80s, reading about dueling Cold War spies gave me a weird nostalgic rush. “The Soviets? East Germans? Damn! We used to HATE those guys!”
In this era where decades of misdeeds by intelligence agencies are common knowledge and the notion of elaborate spy games are widely used fictional plots, it’s a little hard to imagine how groundbreaking this book was back in 1963. James Bond was in full literary swing and just beginning his cinematic career, and most people in the western nations still trusted their governments and believed that their spies were the good guys who would hold back those dirty Commies with sheer moral superiority.
It had to have been a hell of a shock to read a novel like this from a writer who had worked for British intelligence who convincingly told a story where the conflict between the two sides was a series of elaborate con games about either hiding what you knew or tricking the other guy into believing a lie. And as demonstrated here, both sides fully believed that the ends justified the means.
Alec Leamas is with the British intelligence service nicknamed the Circus and runs their operations in West Berlin. However, he’s lost every valuable agent he had to a ruthless East German operative named Mundt. Leamas is recalled by the Circus back to London where he is offered a dangerous new assignment. The Circus demotes Leamas. He pretends to become a disgruntled drunk who eventually loses his job and his pension, and he briefly gets sent to prison after assaulting someone. The ploy is to make the other side think that Leamas is ripe to turn on the Circus so that they can plant false intelligence and get back at Mundt. However, Leamas may have made a critical mistake by actually falling in love while playing a drunken disgrace.
Even with nearly 50 years worth of spy stories after this using similar plots, this book still had enough twists and turns to keep me guessing. The theme about how the supposed ‘good guys’ were just as willing to use any individual or deal with any devil to get the job done as the ‘bad guys’ were is just as relevant today as it was when it was first written. I can’t believe it took me this long to read this book....more
This is what happens when you live your life trying to get a piece of Sky Cake* in the great hereafter. Not only will you probably make yourself miserThis is what happens when you live your life trying to get a piece of Sky Cake* in the great hereafter. Not only will you probably make yourself miserable while you’re here on earth and waste time that could be spent eating delicious actual cake, but you’ll most likely fuck up the life of everyone else involved with you.
*(For the detailed explanation of the concept of Sky Cake, check out comedian Patton Oswalt’s routine of the same name.)
Henry Scobie is a police officer in an unnamed British colony in West Africa during World War II. Scobie is incorruptible, but not naïve. Even though it's not a glamorous posting, he actually loves his work and the area. However, when he gets passed up for a promotion to the top police job, it puts stress on his marriage to Louise. Scobie doesn’t love her anymore, but does feel responsible for her. He can’t resolve his wish to stay with her desperate pleadings that they should leave.
Despite his desire to just do his job and try to keep the peace and limit the diamond smuggling that is flourishing during the war, Scobie is soon facing a host of problems. Rumors are flying that he was passed over for sleeping with native women or taking bribes from Yusef, the local smuggling kingpin. A new British official named Wilson seems to have fallen for Louise and may have a larger secret agenda, Louise is falling apart and Scobie can’t raise enough money to send her out of the country.
Trying to fulfill Louise’s wish to leave will cause Scobie to bend his own code, and that sets off a chain of events that trap him in an ethical dilemma that he can’t square with his own Catholicism. It’s bad enough to make mistakes that put you in a situation that someone you care for will be hurt no matter what, but when the Catholic rule book assures you that you’re going to be damned for eternity if you can’t do things exactly according to the manual, it makes for a rather shitty moral dilemma.
Great writing, believable characters, a unique setting and a tragic situation made for very compelling reading. ...more
With a title like The French Lieutenant’s Woman it’s gotta be a romance novel with a cover featuring some Fabio-like male model in a 19th century FrenWith a title like The French Lieutenant’s Woman it’s gotta be a romance novel with a cover featuring some Fabio-like male model in a 19th century French army uniform that’s ripped to pieces to expose his abs as some buxom wench showing a lot of thigh clings to him, and he waves a sword in the air? No?
Oh, so it was the basis for some award winning movie with Meryl Streep back in the ‘80s? Then it’s got to be some boring-ass lame period piece with all kinds of proper English folk walking around with sticks up their asses as they talk about their proper English ways and how they musn't remove the sticks. Not really? Well, then what the hell is this book?
It’s not what I was expecting, that’s for sure.
Sarah Woodruff is a governess who has scandalized the English community of Lyme Regis by falling for a French naval officer who had been washed ashore and then left her behind after she ‘ruined‘ herself for him. I guess back in those days a woman couldn’t just eat a bunch of ice cream, get drunk with her girlfriends, and then forget about some jerk who did her wrong. Hooking up with a loser was grounds for a lifetime of people shaking their fingers at you. Sarah doesn’t even have the decency to hide her shame. She insists on going out walking by the ocean as she is clearly pining for Frenchie in spite of strict orders from her pious lady employer not to walk around where decent folk can tell what she’s thinking.
Charles Smithson is a Victorian-era gentleman engaged to Ernestina and visiting her aunt in the area. After he accidentally comes across Sarah, he gets interested in her story and tries to convince her to stop making her situation worse by being so openly miserable and letting him help arrange for better employment in London where her scandal won’t be so well known. But Sarah plays a dangerous game of asking Charles for clandestine meetings for advice while acting like she has no urge to change her life. Naturally, Charles finds himself falling for her despite warnings from a local doctor that Sarah is ‘addicted to melancholia’ and may only be interested in spreading her misery around.
At first, this seems like it’s going to be a pretty standard Victorian-era tragic romance. But John Fowles took some serious detours in this book. First, he openly writes it as a god-like narrator from the future who knows how silly and hypocritical a lot of English society was then. It gets even stranger when he starts writing about the writing of the story itself. He complains that characters aren’t behaving the way he thought they should. Then he begins presenting alternate versions of the plot based on decisions by the characters that vastly change how the book would end as he explains that the only fair way to end the story is to present all the ways that it possibly could end.
It’s also not entirely clear about who you should be sympathizing with here. Is Sarah a woman ahead of her time being unfairly treated by a bunch of hypocrites? Or is she a slightly unbalanced woman taking a hatred of men out on Charles by gaining his pity and love at the possible cost of his reputation? Is Charles a good man living in an age that traps him with outdated ideas of duty and honor? Is he just a selfish snob who gets cold feet about his own upcoming marriage and deliberately acts stupidly to try and stop it? It could be that all of these factors are true. Or that none of them are.
While I liked the writing and the way that Fowles played with the structure of a traditional novel, the problem for me is that I was so unsure about Sarah and Charles that I couldn’t ever really get engaged with them emotionally. At times I felt bad for one or both of them, and at other times I didn’t like them at all. I ended up admiring the book more than I enjoyed it....more
While reading The Corrections I really understood the meaning of ‘schadenfreude’ because I despised almost every character in this book so much that tWhile reading The Corrections I really understood the meaning of ‘schadenfreude’ because I despised almost every character in this book so much that the more miserable their lives got, the more enjoyment I took from it. And when a shotgun was introduced late in the novel, I read the rest of it with my fingers crossed while muttering "Please please please please please please..." in the hope that at least one of those pitiful shits would end up taking a load of buckshot to the face.
The Lambert’s are a Midwestern family, and while the grown children have all moved to Philadelphia and New York, the parents have remained in St. Jude. The father, Alfred, was a workaholic middle manager for a railroad and he's the kind of joyless repressed bastard that considered all pleasures frivolous and taking a coffee break as a massive character flaw. Now retired, he’s suffering from Parkinson's and dementia. He deserves it.
Enid is the mother. (Seriously, Franzen? Enid? I’ve lived in the Midwest all my life and have never met an Enid. I know you were making a point on how square the old school Midwesterners are, but that‘s pushing it.) She’s a delusional nagging harpy from hell who aims her passive aggressive attacks at whichever family member has recently burst the bubble of whatever fantasy she is currently clinging to. Through most of the book, Enid has her heart set on one last family Christmas at the house in St. Jude, and the evil bitch will stop at nothing to get it.
Gary is the oldest and a successful investment adviser in Philly, but he married a woman who wants all ties severed with his family and has a special way of getting his sons to join her in her efforts. Torn between trying to placate his wife and his mother while letting their denials of reality make him crazy and trying to be 'the responsible one', Gary is running himself ragged to avoid admitting that he’s depressed. Someone should pimp slap him so hard that his fillings fly out of his teeth.
Chip, the middle son, is a waste of skin with a special talent for self-destruction. He torched his academic career as a professor just as he was about to get tenure by having an affair with a student and then becoming obsessed with her. He’s now a mooch in New York working on a screenplay so horrible that it'd make a Michael Bay movie look good by comparison. He’s also the kind of douche bag who thinks that getting rivets put in his ears and wearing leather pants is cool even though he’s over thirty.
Denise is the one character that I actually had some sympathy for. A daddy’s girl who adopted Alfred’s work ethic, she’s a successful chef of an upscale restaurant, but she’s also got a messy personal life, including trying to figure out her sexuality. At least she’s the one member of this dysfunctional hellspawned family that knows she has issues and tries not to deceive herself any more than most people do.
The weird thing is that even though I loathed the Lamberts and almost every supporting character, too, that I actually enjoyed this book. I usually can’t stand stories where all the characters’ problems are self-inflicted emotional wounds due to a basic refusal to admit and face reality. However, I have to admit that I found this compelling reading. Maybe I was into it for all the wrong reasons. Namely, that I hated the Lamberts so much that their continued suffering brought sweet tears of joy to my eyes. That’s probably not what Franzen intended, but he had to create some incredibly vivid characters and do justice to their pathetic lives to make me hate them so very, very much. ...more
So there’s a damn dirty hippie in India named Siddhartha who is supposed to be seeking spiritual enlightenment, but instead of going to a good ChristiSo there’s a damn dirty hippie in India named Siddhartha who is supposed to be seeking spiritual enlightenment, but instead of going to a good Christian church like a normal person, he wanders around the woods for a while with some other damn dirty hippies. After he meets Buddha, he finally gets tired of being broke-ass and homeless, and he goes into town where he makes a pile of money. This is good because everyone knows that engaging in capitalism is the only proper way to go through life. As a bonus, he also meets a beautiful woman.
Then, just when he’s having a good ole time; doing business, drinking, gambling and making time with the woman, the dang fool’s hippie ideas pop up again, and he walks away from all of it. Remember that Chris Farley routine on Saturday Night Live where he’d scream that someone would end up living in a van down by the river? Well, this hippie ends up living in a hut down by the river. And that’s even worse, because at least you could play the radio in a van.
Finally, Siddartha thinks that the river is god. Or something stupid like that. It just didn’t make any sense. Give me one of them Lee Child novels any day over this hippie dippie crap. That Jack Reacher is a man’s man!
Just kidding.
Actually, this is an elegant allegory about a guy going through different phases as he pursues a lifelong quest to rid himself of his ego so that he can know true peace and enlightenment. It’s filled with incredible writing, and it’s short and smart enough to hold the attention of even a doofus like me. I’d put this in the category of books that everyone should read at least once. ...more
Things had to have been boring in ancient Rome with no TV, internet or video games. But after reading I, Claudius, I think that the average Roman citiThings had to have been boring in ancient Rome with no TV, internet or video games. But after reading I, Claudius, I think that the average Roman citizen’s chief entertainment probably came from watching what the imperial family did to each other. There was the crime and intrigue of a show like The Sopranos. All the narcissism and betrayal of a season of a reality TV show. More sex than cable on-demand porn channels and enough family dysfunction to make Jerry Springer’s guests look classy. You could have kicked off your sandals, put your feet up and watched out the window as all kinds of people got married, divorced, betrayed, robbed, disgraced, exiled and murdered. You can’t put a dollar value on entertainment like that.
The story is told from the perspective of Claudius, a member of the royal family who managed to survive because he was widely considered to be an idiot due to his stammer and bad leg, and because he never had enough money for anyone to bother killing him for his estate. Shunned and forgotten by most of the family, Claudius becomes a historian and scholar who documents the terrible things that happen around him as everyone seeks to gain and keep power.
Over his life, Claudius will have to deal with three emperors; the noble Augustus, the sullen and paranoid Tiberius and the crazy Caligula. His grandmother Livia, who married Augustus, would ruthlessly manipulate and destroy generations of her own family through various schemes and murders to make sure that her son, Tiberius, would one day inherit the throne.
Great book that really makes Roman history come alive. Claudius is a sympathetic narrator and there’s a streak of hilarious deadpan humor along with all the palace intrigue. ...more
There’s an impression that American manhood took a nosedive in the ‘60s after a generation of manly men beat back the Nazis and then turned their no-nThere’s an impression that American manhood took a nosedive in the ‘60s after a generation of manly men beat back the Nazis and then turned their no-nonsense pragmatism and can-do spirit to business and started a huge economic boom. Since those damn dirty hippies ruined the country, and liberal crybabies made being a hetro white male a crime, it’s just been generation after generation of worthless girly-men ever since.
However, after watching Mad Men and reading Rabbit, Run and Revolutionary Road, I’m starting to think that maybe we aren’t so bad after all since the men of the ‘50s and early ‘60s seem to have been self-absorbed, passive aggressive bastards who are so insecure that they demand that their women love them unconditionally even as they do everything they can to break their spirits and make them cater to their every whim. I feel like John Wayne compared to Rabbit Angstrom or Frank Wheeler.
Frank and April Wheeler are a maddening couple. Frank is a bullshit artist who spent some time in New York’s hipster scene in the ‘50s convincing everyone that he was something special. He’s not, but poor April doesn’t find that out until after they get married. A couple of pregnancies later and they’re living in a suburban enclave while turning up their noses at the 1950’s American lifestyle they’re leading.
The main problem they have is that while Frank talks a good game and acts like he’s better than his job and the suburban life, he’s actually kind of comfortable and would be happy to just keep coasting along. But April is itching for something more and uses Frank’s ego to trap him into agreeing to move to Paris. When he actually starts succeeding at his job in the marketing department, Frank uses every trick he’s got to convince April to drop the idea of moving to Europe.
I couldn’t stand the selfish Frank any more than I could stand Rabbit Angstrom in Updike’s book, and I have an idea that hell may be having endless cocktails with those two idiots. But I didn’t have much patience with April, either. She got a crappy condescending husband, but thinking that moving to Paris is going to fix everything that’s making her unhappy isn’t very realistic.
A few years back, shortly after Katrina had her way with New Orleans, Time magazine did a cover story about how Americans prepare and cope with disastA few years back, shortly after Katrina had her way with New Orleans, Time magazine did a cover story about how Americans prepare and cope with disasters. And we don’t do well with them. The story pointed out that while Americans love to obsess about all the potentially horrible things that can happen, we refuse to take actions to prevent or minimize their impact because we don’t want to admit that they’re really possible.
That’s why Americans will freak out if you try to spend a few hundred million dollars of tax money on something like shoring up the levees in New Orleans or making stricter building codes for hurricanes in Florida despite the fact that doing so would have saved many lives and countless billions in rebuilding costs before Hurricanes Katrina or Andrew. (My favorite recent example of this is when the Republicans tried to turn a few million dollars for a volcano eruption early warning program into an example of Obama’s wasteful spending, yet when an actual volcano eruption occurred in Sarah Palin country shortly after that and early warning was credited with saving lives, you never heard about it again. Oh, you wacky right wingers!)
On a more personal level, your average American will obsess endlessly about their weight, their cholesterol, heart disease, cancer, swine flu, bird flu, etc., but most will do so as they still don’t exercise, eat poorly, avoid regular physicals that might provide early detection of a life-threatening illness or get vaccinated. Or people will refuse to evacuate an area where potentially devastating storms are headed.
I kept thinking about that Time story while reading White Noise. The book itself lives up to it’s billing as a post-modern masterpiece with a black, absurd sense of humor, and it’s got layer after layer of themes. But it was DeLillo’s masterful presentation of how people worry themselves to death about death while still trying to deny that it's ever going to happen that I found really engaging.
The story revolves around Jack Gladney, a professor at a small college who created a department and academic field of studying Hitler. Jack and his wife Babette have a typical nuclear family circa 1985, with several divorces and a large group of children from their previous marriages, and their kids seem a lot more adult than the parents in a lot of ways. Jack spends most of his time getting into surreal discussions with his children and colleagues about a number of trivial subjects, but their suburban tranquility is eventually disturbed when a train accident leads to an ‘airborne toxic event’, and the entire community is forced to flee.
After the event, Jack learns that he may have been exposed to potentially fatal doses of the toxins, but it’s uncertain when the effects may start. This leads to both Jack and Babette admitting to each other that they’ve both got an intense fear of death. In Babette’s case, she’s taken extreme measures and been keeping some pretty serious secrets to deal with her phobia.
Even though both Jack and Barbette believe they’ve got a larger than normal dread of death, the lengths they go to in admitting potentially lethal problems are hilarious in a demented way. After the train accident, the kids are watching the toxic cloud grow larger from their view of the train yard and try to alert Jack that there may be trouble. Jack refuses to admit that it’s even possible that middle-class people such as themselves will be victims of an industrial accident. Only the poor people who live around train yards and factories have to worry about such things Jack assures the children even as the cloud grows larger.
So they sit down to dinner instead of packing up the car and getting to a safe distance. When emergency vehicles go down the street and use loudspeakers to tell everyone to evacuate, and the kids again urge that they should leave, Jack and Babette want to debate whether the guy on the loudspeaker said that they should leave NOW or whether they still have time. Surely, he would have told them to run immediately if there was any real danger, wouldn’t he?
Later, when Jack is talking to a doctor about his blood test results, he insists on lying about his health habits, claiming that he eats well, exercises, doesn’t drink, etc. as the doctor is trying to explain what they’ve found. Even though the results of a chemical test are sitting in an envelope in front of him, Jack’s irrationality makes him lie to the doctor as if pretending to live a healthy lifestyle will change the outcome. It’s a terrific scene of both bargaining and denial.
There’s also great satire about academic careers, suburban American consumer culture, family life, media and a couple of hundred other things. It’s a treasure trove of dark deadpan humor with brilliant writing. ...more
I really want to like Thomas Pynchon. I love the whole brilliant but reclusive author act, and all the cool kids at the library seem to think he’s theI really want to like Thomas Pynchon. I love the whole brilliant but reclusive author act, and all the cool kids at the library seem to think he’s the cat’s ass. But I’m starting to think that he and I are never going to be friends.
I tried to read Gravity’s Rainbow twice and wound up curled up in the fetal position , crying while sucking my thumb. Supposedly, this is his most accessible book. It was easier to read than GR, but easier to understand? Well…….
Oedipa Maas unexpectedly finds herself as the executor to a wealthy former lover’s estate. While trying to deal with that, she begins meeting odd people and seeing symbols that lead her to a bizarre conspiracy theory about a centuries old society called the Trystero that is mostly known for running an underground postal system. But the more evidence she finds about the Trystero existing makes Oedipa increasingly paranoid about whether she’s the victim of an elaborate hoax or if she’s losing her own sanity.
This is one of those books that I enjoyed while reading, but knew that I was missing a whole layer of meaning. I loved the idea of a rogue postal service and how Pynchon played with it as the idea of an urban myth or conspiracy theory. It’s probably the kind of book that I’ll really only get on a second reading so I’ll try it again someday....more
I don't know why but I always get a huge kick out of reading an older sci-fi story that was set in the near future, but it's a date I've lived throughI don't know why but I always get a huge kick out of reading an older sci-fi story that was set in the near future, but it's a date I've lived through. In 2001, I'd just randomly shout, "Kubrick and Clarke were wrong,! We don't have bases on the moon! Those fools!" This is another one where Phil didn't exactly nail 1992 writing in 1969, but it's still a pretty good story.
In this 1992, there are people with psionic powers like telepathy or precognition that are used for industrial sabotage, and rival firms are hired to stop it. The dead can be kept in a half-life state and can have limited communication with the living.
Joe Chip is a tester for Glen Runcitor's anti-psi security firm, and when a job with a team of Runcitor employees goes horribly wrong, Joe finds reality shifting around him and is soon unable to distinguish past from present and what's real from what isn't. The only constant thing are ads telling him to try the wonderful product Ubik.
This is Philip K. doing his usual mind-bending thing, but this time instead of just questioning identity or memory, he's questioning the nature of reality itself. A little dated, but pretty good stuff with a lot of dark humor, which is something there isn't enough of in sci-fi....more
Set in the early '70's as the Vietnam War was winding down, Converse (a guy, not a shoe)is supposedly a journalist, but in reality has gone to VietnamSet in the early '70's as the Vietnam War was winding down, Converse (a guy, not a shoe)is supposedly a journalist, but in reality has gone to Vietnam mostly as a tourist. As he gets ready to return home, he gets involved with a deal to smuggle a large quantity of almost pure heroin back into the states, and he has reason to think that the CIA is covertly sponsoring the plan.
Converse recruits a former soldier, Hicks, to get the dope back into the States and hand it off to his wife, Marge. Marge is supposed to hand it off to others per arrangments Converse has made. However, once the drugs are in the states, things go wrong, and Hicks and Marge end up on the run from a couple of thugs and a government agent. Converse returns home to find the deal is blown and is soon in desperate trouble himself.
Even though most of this book is set in the U.S., it's really about the effect that Vietnam had on America. Once your government has unleashed large scale death and destruction on another country for murky reasons, keeping your own moral compass seems naive. Get what you can, do what you want, and don't worry about the consequences. It explains most of the 1970s.
But the book is a cautionary tale about this view. It says that if you go this route, beware. You've bought into the law of the jungle, and there are a lot of predators out there. Just because you think you're ready to live outside the law because you saw some bad shit and think you've jettisoned the conscience that comes with your place in society, that doesn't mean you're ready to deal with the people who never had one to begin with.
A grim little tale of a pack of losers leading sad and desperate lives in L.A. in the 1930's. Tod is an artist with a job at one of the movie studios,A grim little tale of a pack of losers leading sad and desperate lives in L.A. in the 1930's. Tod is an artist with a job at one of the movie studios, and he's in lust with Faye, a wannabe actress with no talent and a sick father, who has made it clear that she has no interest in Tod, but that doesn't stop her from teasing him. Homer Simpson (Bear in mind that this was written before Matt Groening was even born.) is a yokel in from Iowa who came to California for his health who apparently has some form of OCD that involves his hands having minds of their own. Throw in a Hollywood producer, a handsome cowboy who just leans against a building all day, a guy who runs cock fights, and a very small bookie, and you've got a crowd of misfits who will make almost anyone feel better about their own lives.
This has some incredible writing with short spot-on depictions of hopelessness and quiet despair. Just to make this an even happier read, the introduction tells how the author, West, was friends with F. Scott Fitzgerald and was killed in a car accident while rushing to F. Scott's funeral. This is the book that just keeps on giving. Unfortunately, what it's giving is depression.
The worst thing about the book isn't even the author's fault. Having a character named Homer Simpson makes it hard to read something as serious fiction, especially a book like this. Every time I saw the name, I started grinning, even as as the story is describing his sad and shabby little life. All that was missing was an alcoholic named Barney....more
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