Book #174: A Study in Scarlet

Book #174: A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

March 15, 2015

This was the first Sherlock Holmes book, and having blasted through it (it's not all that long, but I did have a tough time putting it down), I can see why these works were so popular in Doyle's time, and continue to be so today. The writing style is very clear, and Holmes is a fascinating character, still a fixture in popular culture. Told, of course, from the perspective of Dr. Watson, it tells how the two met and became roommates, and describes the first case that Watson saw Holmes work. 

Holmes is one cocky motherfucker, but it's well deserved. He runs circles around the best of Scotland Yard (Lastrade and Gregson, who are not all that great of detectives), and yet he isn't even upset when they get the credit for solving the case. It's enough for him to be credited by these men (privately) and by his roommate as being the best. He explains his methods to an incredulous Watson, and while his attention to detail and deductive thinking seem necessary and obvious in our time, they were innovative in his. If Holmes' real goal was to spread his method (and he does express this desire), then mission freaking accomplished.

The circumstances of the murders are complex themselves. As Watson and Holmes learn more about the first victim, Drebber, Watson comes to the conclusion that this guy was kind of a piece of shit. In spite of this, he knows that justice must be served. The first part of the book deals with the investigation and the eventual arrest of Jefferson Hope, and the second part mostly tells Hope's story, showing him to be much more sympathetic than his two victims.

All three (Hope, Drebber, and the other victim Stangerson) were all Americans. Drebber and Stangerson had been early members of the LDS church, actually traveling with Brigham Young's group to Utah. They'd been polygamists, of course, and as young men had vied for the hand of young Lucy. But she loved Hope, and her adopted father, who had never truly adhered to the Mormon faith, had approved of this match. The three fled Salt Lake City, but were pursued; Lucy's father was killed when Hope was away from their camp, and Lucy was forced to become Drebber's eighth wife. Hope swore vengeance on both men, following them around the country, then Europe, after they were excommunicated from the church. He finally killed them in London. 

There were two fascinating, well-written stories intertwined here. This isn't the first Holmes book I've read; The Hound of the Baskervilles is entry #1 of this blog, in fact. It certainly won't be the last. In fact, just as I've aimed to read all of Jane Austen's works (quite close there), I would like to read all of the Sherlock Holmes books and stories, eventually. This book was just about perfect, and I'm sure reading the others will be time well spent.

Book #173: The Gunslinger

Book #173: The Gunslinger by Stephen King

March 14, 2015

Since the last couple of books I read were stinkers, in my opinion, I decided to return to a favorite author. The Gunslinger is the first of King's famous series, The Dark Tower, which took him over 30 years to complete. I read the "revised" version of this book, published like two decades after the original. From what I read from skimming the intro, King did this to make the book more cohesive with the rest of the series. Having only read this book, not the original or any of the following ones (yet), I can't judge how necessary it was.

This book presents more questions than answers, which is a good thing for starting off a series, I suppose. I know it makes me want to read more. The setting itself is a fascination and a mystery. It kinda seems like the Old West in some ways. Is it the very distant future? Another universe that has some loose connections to our own? 

Jake, a young boy who came from our time/place (NYC circa 1980 to be exact), is a mystery alone. Why was he meant to cross Roland's path? Why did he need to be "sacrificed"? I sincerely hope we find out more about Jake, and why the man in black killed him (twice!), or I'm going to be seriously pissed off.

What happened to Roland's home town? What happened to his world in general? What's up with the "muties"? Why is Roland seeking the Dark Tower? Like I said, so many fucking questions and not enough answers. If a writer without King's skill tried to pull this, there would be a lot of confused, frustrated readers, who would not pick up the next book at all. 

King crosses a lot of lines in this work: incest and child sex, lots and lots of violence, the forced abortion of a (false?) priestess. It wouldn't surprise me if this book were banned many times over. Roland's world is grotesque, but also fascinating. His childhood home sounds a bit like a futuristic Camelot, with brutal and high stakes for boys like young Roland who train for the honor of being gunslingers. Another question: what's the purpose of a gunslinger, anyway? 

I probably won't jump into the next book immediately. But if I read too many mediocre (or worse) books, I'll go for the next one. Only the first three or four are available through my library's eBook borrowing service, so I may make reading the whole series a mission for this summer.

Book #172: China Dolls

Book #172: China Dolls by Lisa See

March 10, 2015

This book caught my interest because it is a historical fiction novel about a topic that is, perhaps, a bit obscure: Asian-American entertainers of the 1940s. See researched it well, using real figures from San Francisco and New York during that time, and interviewing women who had been entertainers on the "Chop Suey Circuit." For all of that, though, I kind of hated this book. The characters are awful, and the plot is predictable, rushed, and stereotypical. 

The story revolves around three young women: Grace, Helen, and Ruby. The chapters change first person perspectives between the three. But I honestly didn't get a real feel for any of them. They were completely lacking in depth AT BEST, and Helen was the most bat-shit out of the three. Boo to these characters. If the story had stuck to one perspective (Ruby or Helen preferably), and a shorter span of time, we might have had something here.

I felt like the characters' actions and motivations were contradictory at times, to the point where I was like, what the fuck is he/she doing/talking about? Helen's father is one small example. See, he named his seven sons after U.S. presidents (Monroe, Jefferson, you get the idea), yet when he had the opportunity to become a U.S. citizen, he didn't take it. Why? I swear, See was just writing shit without a thought about consistency or continuity. This was quite a frustrating book.

The plot was shallow and stereotypical. Helen's two revelations about her past came up years after the fact, and seemed like lame attempts to add depth to the story. Urg. What's sad is, I feel like Helen had some serious mental issues, like PTSD had made her crazy, and that would have made for a much better story. Oh, and the fact that Grace marries a man who once punched her in the face and broke her ribs? What the very fuck? Losing his leg in the war would not have calmed him down. That was some stupid shit right there. 

Apparently, some readers who typically appreciate See's work dislike this particular book. Therefore, I may give her another chance sometime. But the more I think about it, the more I can't help feeling that this book was highly dissatisfying. 

Book #171: Story of O

Book #171: Story of O by Pauline Réage (translated by Sabine d'Estrée)

March 6, 2015

Okay, okay, okay. I more or less knew what I was getting into when I chose to read this book, considered a classic work of erotica (and French to boot). For a long time I've had a fascination with BDSM, but more as a fetish and not as a lifestyle. This book, about a very sexual young woman who is prompted by her boyfriend to become a slave, is pretty extreme. For being erotic, and French, I imagine that it definitely pushed boundaries when it was first published, which is probably why it's still known and read today. That's the only way I can explain it, because this book is only okay...and incomplete, too.

There are some disturbing elements here. It would be one thing if all participants were consenting adults. O is for sure, she chooses this lifestyle and comes to take pride in it, and bully for her. But there are at least a couple of references to teenage girls (I'm talking like 15-years-old) getting involved in sex with adults. Ummmm, that's not right. It's one thing when curious teens experiment with each other, but plain wrong for an experienced adult to take advantage of a young girl, even if she is willing. Sir Stephen, O's master, wants to take inexperienced Natalie to Roissy, a chateau where women are broken into this lifestyle. So yeah, disturbing.

Also, there's the fact that Sir Stephen and René (O's original boyfriend) want to force Jacqueline to submit to them and become a slave. That's rape, guys. That's not cool at all.

I did find O's feelings about her situation to be interesting. She first goes to Roissy to please René, though it doesn't seem like they've "played" very roughly before. At the beginning of the book, she's terrified at the thought of him leaving her. But when she's turned over to Sir Stephen, René's kinda-step brother, she comes to love her harsh new master and to view René as being almost...inadequate? As far as that goes, it seems perfectly natural. I might have enjoyed the book more if it were actually complete; some early French versions, apparently, featured some different endings, but the common theme is that Sir Stephen, one way or another, leaves his slave. She'd talked herself into the idea of him loving her...he even said so sometimes. But come on, love isn't built on that, and he essentially said as much their first time together.

Obviously this is a work of fantasy, based on the author's appreciation of the works of the Marquis de Sade, but the elaborate BDSM societies described were over the top. Like, all these people have nothing better to do all day than to participate in customs that reinforce dominance or submission, and to have sex. Get a fucking life, people. Had the story just been between the principle characters, and had cut out the Roissy and Samois shit, it would have been a lot less ridiculous, and I might have cared more about those main characters.

As far as the quality of the writing, it was again only okay. The most detail was put into the sex or torture scenes, obviously, and that's fine. But there are lots of other things happening: O's complicated feelings for Jacqueline, René and Sir Stephen's plot, O's overall change in perspective. And the reader is only really told these things, not shown...something that I really hate to see in a narrative. The scene changes at these times are super abrupt. With all of the detail and care put into the sex scenes, you'd think at least half as much could go into the rest of the story.

For the fact that this book is so famous (or perhaps infamous) and I've been curious to read it for quite some time, I'm glad that I picked it up. But if I'm looking for erotica, I can find better on the Internet.

Book #170: I Shall Be Near to You

Book #170: I Shall Be Near to You by Erin Lindsay McCabe

March 4, 2015

Today is an unprecedented triple entry day. I kind of set myself up for this yesterday, since it was a snow day. This particular book is a newer release, and while it wasn't super long, I breezed through McCabe's first publication. 

This book is based on the true stories of women who disguised themselves as men and fought in the Civil War. Rosetta did it for love. Prior to her man Jeremiah enlisting in the Union army, she got him to marry her so that, as she put it, he could leave her as a widow, not a spinster. Their first days together as man and wife are so sweet that it makes his departure all the more painful.

Now, Rosetta was always a tomboy. With no brothers, she helped her father on their rural New York farm. She and Jeremiah planned to get their own place in Nebraska and work it together when the war is done. But living on her in-laws' property, they expect her to be a proper farm wife. From her view, life isn't worth living without Jeremiah. And so, she cuts off her hair, puts on his clothes, and goes to join his regiment.

Jeremiah's feelings over Rosetta's presence are complicated. He's never embarrassed that she's not a proper lady; he is proud of her for being a fighter and for being stubborn. But his worry over her causes him to be angry at times, sometimes not sticking up for her when their friends from home give her shit. But they are able to be intimate in a way that would have been impossible without her deception.

Will, a new friend who comes to learn the truth about "Ross," is interesting. He's attracted to Rosetta when he thinks she's a man. Religious as he is, he expresses some guilt over his homosexuality, though not as much as you'd think. He and Rosetta become good friends, guarding each other's secrets. 

The ending to this story is not happy. I mean, we're talking about the Civil War here. First off, Jeremiah fucking dies. But in his wife's arms, and that alone justifies her actions. Oh yeah, and she's pregnant at this point. After coming clean to her captain (with the aid of his wife, who figured out Rosetta months before), she's allowed to accompany an injured friend, Sully, to D.C., and will undoubtedly make her way home from there. Her alter ego, Ross Stone, died in the same battle as Jeremiah Wakefield.

The voice of the first person narrator is what drove the story. At times plain spoken, at other times cryptic, it is what kept me reading a bit more than I intended to each day. Plus, this book just gave me the feels too much. I would be eager to read more by McCabe, and will be keeping an eye out for any future releases from this new author.

Book #169: Northanger Abbey

Book #169: Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

March 4, 2015

I probably enjoyed this Austen work more than any other I've ever read. While it has the typical elements (misunderstandings, back-stabbing, love that overcomes obstacles), it has a bit more. The heroine of this story is Catherine Moreland, a girl of 17 who has just come out of her restless childhood days to blossom into a pleasing young lady. Her adventures begin when she accompanies her childless neighbors, the Allens, to Bath.

Catherine is great for a couple of reasons. First off, her naïvety makes her likeable to readers, who can "see" things that she can't, as unassuming and trusting as she is. But her best trait is her overactive imagination, which really comes to life during her stay at the title location. Her imaginings of conspiracy and murder, hidden messages, and the like (sparked by her love of gothic novels) gives the story a little something extra, and makes it a standout Austen work.

I like the object of her affection, Henry Tilney, as well. He's funny, and forms an attraction to young Catherine at their first meeting. Now, I was convinced that Henry's overbearing father, General Tlney, had designs on sweet Catherine for himself. I knew that the Thorpes' shit talking is what caused him to send her away so rudely from the Abbey (where he'd enthusiastically invited her to visit), but I thought he was jealous. It would have added a dimension to his character had this been the case. But alas, he had been under the impression that Catherine's family was wealthy, and had wanted the connection between her and Henry for that reason alone.

My two issues with the book are as follows. First off, there's never any explanation for why the Thorpes (and as a result, the General) thought that the Morelands were rich. Did silly Mrs. Allen say something of her friends, to exaggerate and show off? But it seems that John Thorpe already had this idea about James Moreland, his classmate at Oxford. Did James lie himself? I didn't get much of a feel for Catherine's brother. I thought it was weird that he was so close to a douche like John, but I definitely felt bad for him when Isabella Thorpe, first accepting his engagement, humiliated him by flirting with Henry's brother publicly when she learned of his modest circumstances. The Thorpes were the main troublemakers in the novel. Jerks.

My other issue is with the very beginning and very end of the book. Austen tells a lot here and shows us nothing, while the rest of the book is so well written. I didn't get into it until the third chapter, but then I was in. Then, the ending was so rushed and abrupt. And this was one of her later works (published after her death); I felt like Pride and Prejudice, for example, flowed much better at the beginning.

Otherwise, this book was excellent. At this point, there's only one Austen novel I have not read: Mansfield Park. While there are very common themes in all of the Austen novels, it is certainly not true to say that if you've read one Austen book, you've read them all. No way.

Book #168: The Hostile Hospital

Book #168: The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket

March 4, 2015

Book the Eighth of A Series of Unfortunate Events, and undoubtedly the best in the series at this point. I don't think I'll be able to express how much I enjoyed this one, but I'll try. First off, the cover itself is totally badass. Klaus is disguised as a doctor, surgical mask and all, holding a huge Bowie knife and looming over the reader, along with two of Olaf's creepy associates in similar disguises. Intrigue!

Secondly, this book has the Baudelaire children at their most desperate. They're on the run from everyone, as in the previous book they were falsely accused of being murderers. Almost caught, they join up with a group of moronic hippie singers called V.F.D...Volunteers Fighting Disease, who go to Heimlich Hospital to sing to patients and give them heart-shaped balloons. Now, obviously there is something to be said about the power of positive thinking (Patch Adams, anyone?), but the folks of V.F.D. sincerely believe that their methods are superior to modern medicine. The kids figure out pretty quickly that this is not the V.F.D. that they are looking for. 

The kids, desperate to hide, volunteer to help out in the records department. The records at Heimlich Hospital, for some reason, are a kind of catch-all for all kinds of files. There's even a file on the Baudelaires...unfortunately, it was confiscated so that it could be used to investigate the Baudelaire fire, or maybe other acts of arson committed by Olaf and his crew. There is a page that leads the kids to believe that one of their parents is still alive, but I'm pretty sure the survivor referred to is Lemony Snicket himself. 

As the kids find the cleaned out file, they are accosted by Esmé, who is in extra psycho mode in this book as she tries to murder them. Klaus and Sunny get away, but Violet falls into her clutches. The two younger Baudelaires must use Olaf's own methods against him and his associates, as they save Violet from having her fucking head cut off. In the end, they're still fugitives on the run, and they, like Olaf, want the missing file...and so they sneak into the truck of his car to follow his crew to their next destination. Oh, shit!

But besides the excitement and the clear break from the old pattern, the best thing about this book were the delightful literary references, which were obviously included for adult readers. Mrs. Dalloway is cited, as moody Clarissa is a patient at the hospital. And guess which author is name checked? Haruki Murakami! Say what??? These references blew my mindhole, and I'm sure that there were others that I missed. That's what really made this book for me.

I'm pretty enthused as I begin the ninth book. My teaching schedule will change a bit next term, so my reading time at work will get cut down a bit. But my goal is still to finish the series by the end of the school year.