. . . than to be correct. -Benjamin Disraeli
Since I rarely get the motivation to share pure thoughts on my blog, I'm going to expand my entries to include book and movie reviews. Starting now.
I had a stressful week last, and to relieve my stress, I reactivated my library card and went nuts. I'm going to report back on a few of these reading adventures. Lucky you.
Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster
I love this author. I think he has a unique perspective even though it is highly plausible that he takes himself far too seriously. His usual themes of fate and subjective identity provide mind-blowing plot twists and revelations. Scriptorium, however, not only lacked the usual hook and plot development, but it lacked a compelling parallel storyline. The book follows the day of a man who wakes up in a sterile room with no memory. He ties to piece together what has happened to land him here as various acquaintances flit in and out of the room, some wanting to help him, the majority wanting to kill him. He finds a manuscript that tells a story of a man similar to him but living in a 1800-ish sci-fi world. Auster may have expected us to draw parallels from it, but I failed to see anything other than both men didn't know much about their own lives. The premise of the book is solid; it is the execution that lacked Auster's usual sparkle. His images, usually so rich, were incomplete, and his characters were pretty flat, although I was told that they had very interesting and rich lives. I don't think this book would be worth reading, but the author is definitely worth investigating. Try Man in the Dark. It is one of his best.
How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff
This author has a gift. Her style is quick and her humor is biting. Her characters are memorable and distinct. However, her plot is idiotic. It meant well, truly it did. Children trapped in the countryside as war breaks out world wide. The internet is not working, cell phones are dead, and adults are stranded in Norway. So, we have 5 kids trying to survive. The basics are good. Now insert a creepy love affair with a cousin (ew) and sacrificing the good of the plot for the sake of teen angst, and I was thoroughly annoyed. However, if sexual awakening with 15-year-old cousins is right up your alley, you'll love this book on all of its levels.
When We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris
At first glance, this book is The Office, Office Space, and Michael Clayton rolled into one book. Now take away everything you like about those movies. You have just hit page 25. The initial scenes of the book contain caricatures of classic office minutiae and passive aggressive cubicle drama. It toys with the mob mentality, layoffs, and coffee mugs. It's great. It's entertaining. It's short-lived. Once the plot kicks into high gear, I was left with the memory and occasional reminder of the once witty characters who are becoming increasingly annoying and pathetic. The bright yellow cover is quickly tainted by dark rain clouds that refuse to drop their comforting waters. If it was good old-fashioned misery, I can get on board. But it is just the possibility of misery and the perpetual limbo of waiting for the plot. I guess it really is a book about office life.
If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things by John McGregor
Awesome. This book juggles terse narration with sweeping lyricism and expert stream of consciousness. The book follows the events of a single day on a normal street in London, as reflected by a tenant three years later, ending with a devastating car accident that won't quite fade from memory. The images are beautiful, the prose is delightful, and the humor is unexpected. I would read this one again. And again. I do adore.
That's all for now. Up next week is America (the Book) by Jon Stewart, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon, and Desert Solitude by Edward Abbey. Stay tuned.
