Book #118: Hush, It's a Game

Book #118: Hush, It's a Game by Patricia Carlon

September 29, 2014

This book was another random library find. Here's a method I've been using to select books, since I can't seem to break my habit of taking my chances: I look for books by authors who don't have a lot of other books on the shelf (I am suspicious of most authors who crank out a bunch of books, James Patterson for example), and of course ones that don't have one of the library's "Christian lit" stickers on the spine (yuck). Carlon apparently published several suspense books in her time, but this was her only title on the shelves. I'd almost dub this a "hidden gem"; published in the '60s, apparently Carlon, Australian, never really had a strong fan base in the U.S.

Some of the turns of phrase were a little confusing, and I had trouble imagining accurately Australian accents for the characters. But otherwise, I got into this short, tense story. The title comes originally from Isobel's last words to young Virginia as she locked her in the kitchen. Not for her own safety, even as her ex, seeking vengeance, had just shown up at her doorstep on Christmas Eve, but to keep her little neighbor from hearing the conversation.

The story follows multiple perspectives: Isobel (before she was shot dead); Frank, her ex and murderer who is a scheming, remorseless sociopath; Megan, the lonely shop girl who takes an interest in the little girl waving from the sixth story window; Leigh, a neighbor who is also interested in Virginia and may be a love interest for Megan; Mr. Leaderbee, a sympathetic old man who only wants a little company; Robbins, the bitter and vindictive groundskeeper at the complex; and Margot, a neighbor who wants to make amends with Isobel, who doesn't realize that the pounding heard on their wall during a Christmas Eve party was little Virginia, trying to summon help. And of course the poor kid herself, getting more and more frustrated as her attempts to get help are ignored, or mistaken as a game. 

The loneliness of people at Christmas was a theme. It's what drew Megan, Leigh, and Leaderbee together, and what drove them to try to help Virginia. They didn't know the severity of the situation, of course. From what they'd heard of reclusive Isobel, they thought she was an old crank who had locked the kid up as a punishment, and they pitied her to see it done on Christmas. It's interesting that so many people insist that Virginia is a brat. She seems like a normal, even intelligent little girl. If she misbehaves, no wonder; her mother is dead and her father is a workaholic, leaving her in the care of mean housekeepers...or with a neighbor they barely know for the holidays while he goes on a business trip outside of Sydney. I pitied and rooted for the child throughout, and was very glad that she didn't meet the fate that Frank, realizing his blunder at leaving a young witness to his crime, had planned for her.

I was irked by one small detail: that this clever child, who could boil an egg and write simple words, didn't know Australia's version of 911, which is one thing that any American learns pretty young. But with just a little searching, I found that 000 wasn't established until 1969...two years after this book was published. And Virginia didn't have the phone book, just the kitchen line, so that's all believable. Had this book been written only a couple of years later, Virginia's conflict would have had a much simpler solution. Hell, maybe this book had something to do with 000 being created in Australia? Who knows?

Also, if several people were aware that a small child was locked alone in a kitchen these days, it would be viewed as child abuse and cruelty, and they would have tried to have Isobel arrested. Then, of course, they would have found her body and there you go. So the setting is definitely important to keep in mind with this book: 1960s, Sydney. 

It's interesting to consider that, even though there are many similarities between the U.S. and Australia, it's still a completely different country on the other end of the world. I'm very glad that I found this book for one, because as I've noted that I haven't read many books by Canadian writers, the same can be said about Australian authors. Of course, the author of one of my favorite books (The Book Thief), Markus Zusak, is Australian. One of his other books is actually set in Australia, I think, so I will definitely want to check out one of his other texts sometime. 

I'll also say that this was an entertaining story. The characters were various and interesting, if frustrating (fucking Robbins), and the stories were interesting. Considering the setting, this was a believable mystery. I hope I can locate more texts by Carlon; perhaps the libraries in the area that are larger than the one that I frequent with my nephew will have more of her works.

Book #117: The Lowland

Book #117: The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri

September 26, 2014

I finished this book last night, but it got a little late to blog. TGIF! It's been a very long week for me, but with my reading at the gym, I'm always able to get a little time in. I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend, though...

So this is the second full-length book I've read by Pulitzer Prize-winning Lahiri. Like The Namesake, it takes place in both the U.S. and India, and follows a family over a long period of time (about the mid-1940s, as India's independence occurred when Subhash and Udayan were young boys, to present day). I have mixed feelings about this book overall, so I'll examine the good and the bad here.

The Good:

I have mentioned before my appreciation for books that can teach me about the history of other countries. In spite of the fact that India is the second most populated country in the world, its history is barely touched on in your typical American curriculum. The average American teen has probably heard of Gandhi, and maybe knows how the British once colonized it...and that's probably it. The poverty in India, and the on-going influence of the caste system, is known, so the fact that there was much political turmoil in India after it became independent makes a lot of sense.

The book opens with a scene from the brothers' childhood. They snuck onto a country club golf course, and when caught by security, Subhash was beaten. This event seemed to traumatize Udayan, the younger and feistier of the two brothers. As a young man, he becomes involved with a group of pro-Communists who might be called terrorists. He started by vandalizing public property with political slogans, but as he became more involved, he became part of this like underground network. He eventually takes part in killing a police officer; he also has the fingers on one hand blown off when he's building a bomb that unexpectedly explodes. When caught by the police, he's shot and killed in the lowland, a field in his neighborhood that is suspeptible to flooding during the monsoon season. His parents and his bride Gauri witness this.

I found myself thinking that I would have found this book a lot more interesting if it were told from Udayan's perspective. But it wasn't. Which leads me to...

The Bad:

The story covers such a long span of time, yet I don't feel like I really knew the characters much. Subhash, who leaves Calcutta to attend grad school in Rhode Island, is the central character, but his personality "is like, so whatever." He's mild, and kind, and dutiful. That's about it, I guess. He's definitely not driven much by his passions. He's probably meant to serve as a foil for his daring if misguided brother, but I only found myself wishing that there was more Udayan, less Subhash. Kind of sad, considering that their parents kind of felt the same way! But Subhash has the personality of a piece of toast.

Now, I did feel like I knew Gauri, but I never liked her much. I came to like her more when the details of her involvement with Udayan's political comrades became clear. Her relationship with Udayan was complex, as she grapples with being involved with his political comrades (even providing the information that led to the stabbing of the police officer), yet loving him and being deeply affected by his violent death. Again, if there'd been more of that, and less of her time in the U.S. as Subhash's wife and Bela's neglectful mother, we'd really have a story here. But mostly, she's shown as being cold and academically driven, finally leaving Subhash to care for Bela when she takes a job in California. I tried to like Gauri, but I couldn't. 

Bela grew up in a flash. Like Udayan (her real father, killed when she was only a few weeks in the womb), she is driven to aid people in poverty. But she does it through farming and support of small farms, not terrorism. I might have liked her, had I known her, but her life is a blur. 

The whole book overall felt rushed in time. Characters, as people, change and evolve in their lifetimes, but I barely saw enough of the characters at any one point to track these changes. I think that this book fell short for this reason. Had it taken place in the first thirty years of the brothers' lives, and been more focused, it would have been much better. 

The story was also lacking any joy. Everything seems hopeless, sad, especially for Gauri. I wondered how anyone could live that way, aways feeling sad or guilty, not allowing yourself to see the good, to embrace life. I'm glad I read this book, if only it gave me a perspective on 20th century Indian politics, but otherwise I would not recommend this particular text. 

Book #116: The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Book #116: The Boy in the Striped Pajamas: A Fable by John Boyne

September 21, 2014

Well, I at least accomplished one goal today: making a second blog post. This book was the hard copy that I've been reading at home. I was specifically previewing it as a possible text to teach. It's available through the local education agency. Now, my first choice for a book to teach about the Holocaust would be Elie Wiesel's memoir Night, obviously, but for some reason, that one isn't available. So I figured, this particular book is fairly recent, written for a young adult audience, and prior to reading it (or reading any scathing reviews on Goodreads), I'd only heard good things. Now that I've finished it, I may still use it...but perhaps to teach students how to critique literature, and with lots of front loading. 

This book was obviously written with good intentions, but it wasn't all that it could have been. Boyne can say whatever he wants about how Bruno is supposed to be naïve, but I still don't think he's a plausible character. The book overall could have worked if a few changes were made to the characters and/or setting:

-Bruno is a nine-year-old German boy, and the son of a Nazi Commandant. It's the early 1940s; it's highly doubtful that Bruno wouldn't know who Hitler is, and that he wouldn't have been indoctrinated into the anti-Semitism of Nazi Germany. In fact, the story would have been much more poignant, as well as realistic, if he had been. His friendship with Shmuel would have been all the more powerful, especially Bruno's realization that they're fundamentally the same. Since Bruno in the book doesn't even know what a "Jew" is, he doesn't even know that he's "supposed" to be superior. Bruno, infantile as he was (the confusion with "the Fury" and "Out-With" makes no sense because he's a German speaker!), was pretty fucking annoying at times. His character as a nine-year-old would only make sense if he were mentally handicapped or something, which would have been very interesting for the son of a prominent S.S. officer.

-Boyne could have made this work if he'd simply made Bruno younger, like five or six. Not much else in the story would have needed to be changed.

-Shmuel should have been older. He survived for more than a year at Auschwitz. A little kid allowed to live that long in the most notorious of the death camps? Yeah, I don't think so. Of course, maybe the story should have been set in a concentration camp instead. There are differences between the two ideas. Give the book a different setting, and many issues would have been resolved, I think.

It seems to me like Boyne did not do his homework before writing this novel. That's too bad. If he had a clue, he could have written a much better book. The premise of a Nazi officer's son and a prisoner becoming friends is interesting, but the execution left much to be desired. I'm told that the movie attempts to fix some of these problems, so I guess I will have to see for myself.

Book #115: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?

Book #115: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

September 21, 2014

While this weekend overall hasn't been my most productive, I have gotten a good amount of reading done. Or maybe it just feels that way. This book is one of three that I'm reading at once, the necessary electronic copy that I could read on the Kindle app at the gym. I also have a hard copy of a book for reading at home, and another book for work (if my students are reading, there's only one thing I should be doing: reading as well). This may not even be my only blog post today...we shall see.

So I think that Mindy Kaling is a gorgeous, funny lady. However, I've never gotten into The Office, nor have I ever watched The Mindy Project. I don't even have cable anymore! But you have to love a minority-race, normal-sized woman busting stereotypes and busting guts. But what drew me to this book was the title, which I feel tells a lot about her personality. And I know I can relate to that feeling of paranoia about being left out!

Kaling's writing style is very funny, especially as she laughs about mortifying incidents from her childhood. The first half of the book is the best, as she shares snippets and important events from her life up until she is hired on at The Office. I'd never heard of the Off-Broafway play that she did with her best friend Brenda about Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, but I may try to hunt up a video of that later, at least a scene to really get a feel for it.

It seems that Kaling's success is earned; she didn't get lucky, she and her friend came up with a fun idea that caught on. But she's very humble about her success, I think. She presents herself as still being awkward, shallow but intelligent, and very down-to-earth. She definitely doesn't take herself seriously. 

The second half of the book got a little tedious, as some of Kaling's essays were random and maybe a bit TOO shallow. Plus, declaring Amy Poeler and Will Arnett as an ideal married couple was a bit silly, since they're totally divorced now. Speaking of Arnett, I saw that Kaling's taste in comedy was very different from mine, as it didn't include any Arrested Development (to quote GOB: "Oh, come on!"), nor any It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is brilliant and, unlike The Office, is still on the air. However, I did love the section on revenge fantasies. I have those, too, though typically for people who actually have crossed me. Watch out, motherfuckers, before I go straight up Monte Cristo all over your asses.

This book was exactly what it was intended to be, a light and entertaining read. I find myself thinking, though, that I would love to read a book of musings by Rob McElhenney or Kaitlin Olsen (or shit, they could even co-write something). That would be a fucking hilarious read. 

Book #114: The Count of Monte Cristo

Book #114: The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (translator anonymous)

September 18, 2014

So I checked out a translation of this book through my library's ebook site. I know it's among the longest Western novels of all time, so when I was going along at a pretty good clip after just an hour of reading at the gym, I was pleased but surprised. I happened to be looking for the name of the translator of that particular edition, when I saw that horrible word: abridged.

Oh hell no. I've written before about my distaste for abridged texts. Seeing as I was already drawn in to Edmond Dantes's plight, I knew I had to find an unabridged translation. The version I ended up reading is, I imagine, an early English translation. Why would the translator be anonymous when he, or she, made this brilliant book accessible to so many people?

Anyway, I'm glad that I invested the time, and the $1 that the ebook cost me, in reading an unabridged translation. Timeless classics like these are the reason why I love reading so much. This book was horrifying, thrilling, delightful, and touching at turns. It may be a hefty read, but Dumas doesn't bombard his readers with his morality at the expense of the story (hear that, Tolstoy? Dickens?); there's a message, of course, but the story is fully entertaining.

I might compare this book to a soap opera. Like many lengthy classic novels of the time, it was published in installments over the course of a couple of years or so. Reading a couple of hours a day to finish in less than three weeks, I can imagine the anguish of the first readers, waiting for the next chapters. The story even features elements that today's soaps have worn out: people returning from the dead, a young woman in a coma, hidden identities. Unlike these soaps, though, it's well-written with nary a plot hole in sight. Pretty impressive considering the number of central characters and the complexity of the plot.

My feelings for the central character fluctuated wildly throughout my reading. First I pitied Edmond; then I felt triumphant for him at his escape from prison and his discovery of Faria's treasure at Monte Cristo. Then, as the story switches to the perspective of other characters, I thought that his thirst for vengeance and his immense wealth had turned him into a piece of shit. He brags about having a young woman for a slave, he witnesses the execution of a man in Rome with almost grim delight, he consorts with criminals; what the fuck happened to this guy?

But there's an explanation! Haidee, technically his slave, is more of an adopted daughter. Royalty by birth, her family got fucked over by Dantes's enemy Fernand, and Dantes (or the count, or Sinbad the Sailor, or Lord Wilmore, or Abbe Busoni, or whatever fucking name he prefers) takes her in to protect her, and to allow them both to get their revenge.

Okay, so personally I don't morally condone the idea of revenge. My spiritual beliefs aren't defined by any organized religion, but I do believe that people get what they deserve. Dantes sees himself as God's catalyst for vengeance against those who wronged him. His mission would seem less than righteous if his four main targets (Caderousse, Villefort, Fernand aka Morcerf, and Danglars) had not all committed other wrongs besides all having a hand in ruining his life and condemning him to fourteen years of lonely suffering. The four that wronged him were out and out wicked, and I didn't pity them. But even Dantes acknowledges that he hurt more people than he should have in the end; it went too far.

And so, the seemingly heartless count redeems himself. He offers assistance to Morcerf's widow Mercedes, the woman he once loved himself (Fernand's jealousy led him to accuse Dantes in the first place), and her son Albert. He saves Valentine de Villefort's life after her stepmother attempts to poison her, and reunites her with her lover Maximilian Morrel, the son of one of the few people who tried to help Dantes when he was wrongfully imprisoned. And he frees Haidee, who refuses to leave out of love for him...and so they decide to wed. Dantes deserves his happy ending.

It was a shame that Edward de Villefort, an innocent though bratty child, died in the whole mess, but I admit that it would have been sadder had he been a nice child and not so monstrous. But he had bad genes and a bad upbringing, so his personality makes sense. Mercedes and Albert also did not get what they deserved. Though Mercedes did not wait for her love Edmond, she didn't really do anything wrong. I am glad that Dantes went for Haidee instead of his former, lost love, though. And Albert will be okay. Good-natured but spoiled, the army will toughen him up. He's already brave, and is now determined to make a new name for himself, after his father was publicly shamed for war crimes and had committed suicide.

The only points that sort of bug me are the coincidences that furthered the counts schemes. One is that Franz, Albert's friend and traveling companion, happened to land at Monte Cristo on a whim and met Sinbad the Sailor, before proceeding to Rome to meet Albert, and running into the count there...in this way, Dantes made the acquaintance of Mercedes's son. I mean, Dantes controlled much of the plot, but no way could he have planned that one.

Also, the fact that Caderousse happened to be a fellow prisoner of Villefort and Baroness Danglars's abandoned son. It's revealed that a disguised Dantes freed them both, for the purposes of using them in his plot. But again, he couldn't have planned on them being imprisoned together...right?

Those are the only points I contend with, because the rest of it seems plausible, that the count had complete control of it. I would not hesitate to deem this book, along with Don Quixote, an essential classic. It is timeless, and an unabridged version is certainly worth the time.

P.S. May I say that Eugenie Danglars and Louise d'Armilly are my favorite lesbian couple of classic literature? Okay, they're the only ones I can think of, but I liked how Dumas made no bones about Eugenie's sexuality. Her parents denied the truth, thinking that her "eccentricities" were due to her being an artist (a musician, specifically). I felt bad for the girls when they were outed and shamed after the situation with Benedetto's arrest, but the last we see of them, they are heading off together again. I may be naïve to hope that good things will happen for a lesbian couple in mid-19th century Europe, but still...