Book #192: The End

Book #192: The End by Lemony Snicket

May 29, 2015

Book the Thirteenth (the final installment) of A Series of Unfortunate Events. I made my goal of finishing it by the end of the school year, with a week to spare. I imagine that, at the time that it was published, many readers were not entirely pleased with the end of The End. But since readers would be aware by now that the stories of Snicket's world, the bizarre but maybe "noble" practices of VFD and the mysteries of its associates and enemies was not over, as Daniel Handler has published more titles as the witty, absurd, and elusive Lemony Snicket. As complicated as things get in this final work alone, the more of those questions (like what's up with the sugar bowl, and the tunnels) are not yet answers in the series that I've just finished.

To be honest, I'm still personally not as interested in VFD as I was in the welfare of the Baudelaires. These poor kids, after sailing away from the burning of the Hotel Denoument with their crazy nemesis Count Olaf, end up in a storm and wash up on a coastal shelf. I don't know if the idea of an island on a coastal shelf being so far from land that to leave it is impossible but once a year is scientifically possible, nor do I know anything about the turning of tides (I'm pretty sure it's merely meant to be symbolic here), but the whole situation that the Baudelaires come across is really sketchy. They're only hoping for a safe place, at last, but that obviously isn't possible for them. Is it possible for anyone, really?

Kind of depressing, but in the end, as the tides turn in favor for leaving the strange island, the tides seem to be turning in favor of the unfortunate Baudelaires. They've been through some shit, but with their biggest (though perhaps not most dangerous) enemy dead, and a lot more knowledge about their parents and their strange world, they seem like they'll be able to survive.

Yep, Olaf does die. But not before he kisses a dying and in-labor Kit Snicket. Uh, things get rather complicated. To keep it short: the leader of the strange island is Ishmal, a former VFD member; Olaf has the poisonous fungus that nearly killed Sunny, and it gets released on the island when Ishmal shoots him with that harpoon gun; the Baudelaires, cured of the poison, are left to care for Kit's orphaned baby. Definitely opens things up for more adventures as they sail away with baby Beatrice (yes, the name of the Baudelaires' mother and Snicket's lost beloved; I had looked it up in advance so it didn't hit me like it might have). 

Here's my issue: how is Olaf slamming so much ass when he's so gross? He blows his nose on curtains. He doesn't wear socks with shoes that really need socks; he maybe showers once every two weeks. He's basically like Charlie Kelly without the love for rat-bashing. Seriously! He's functionally illiterate, has some artist talent, he drinks, and his hygiene is horrendous. The big difference is that Charlie is lovable, while Olaf is just despicable. You learn a little more about his past, and he's just a bitter, vengeful, greedy man when it comes down to it. His having loved Kit doesn't give him much in the way of redemption. But the kids, who really are holding on to their morals, can forgive him to an extent. They've held on to themselves under impossible odds.

I have most enjoyed Snicket's narration through the series, especially when it is more humorous and a bit detached. He's rather intimately involved in the story, when it comes down to it. I think young Beatrice somehow ends up with her uncle, as he makes a couple of comments in the last couple of books about a niece and her uncle: going on for ice cream, and him planting her a tree in the night as a surprise. Snicket never comes out and says that he meets Beatrice, but that's my theory. 

I do think that these books offer up a commentary about life's truths: that death is the Great Unknown, that people are complex, and that treachery exists everywhere. Not happy messages, but very real for a kid's book series. I think I would eventually read some more into Snicket's world, but I'll hold off for a while. I'll be trying to finish off The Dark Tower series over the summer, amongst other things. I think that this Unfortunate series has reawakened an appreciation for series books that I haven't felt since I first got into Harry Potter years ago. 

Book #191: The Bird Sisters

Book #191: The Bird Sisters by Rebecca Rasmussen

May 27, 2015

I haven't kept up much with contemporary fiction. That's mainly because I've tried to make up for my shameful negligence of important classics (which I feel like I've improved on a lot in the almost three years since I started this "challenge"). When I do go for more contemporary works, I seek out my favorite authors...otherwise, I feel like I'm taking a risk. I only mention all of this because I've noticed that there seems to be a lot of historical fiction being published these days. Is it just me? Anyway, this particular work of contemporary historical fiction was satisfying, unlike some others I have read previously.

This is a coming-of-age story of two sisters, Twiss and Milly, growing up in a small town in Wisconsin. At the start of the story, we see them as aging spinsters. Twiss had a reputation for years for healing injured birds, while Milly would bake for and entertain the people who brought them in. In modern times, business is very slow, but one morning a harried mother brings in a goldfinch she'd hit with her minivan. The bird dies, and when Milly comments to the distraught little girl that there may not be a heaven, the mother snaps that only a woman without children would say a thing like that. This causes both sisters to reflect on why Milly never wed.

Twiss never wanted to or expected to marry. As a lesbian growing up in the middle of the 20th century, the idea of a conventional married life never appealed to her. She was the more daring of the two sisters, while pretty Milly was more timid and courteous, more "ladylike." I'm making them sound like clichés but I felt like they were pretty well fleshed out.

Separately, the sisters both recall the summer that their family was torn apart. Their mother came from wealthy stock, but married a poor man. He longed to fit in with the elite of their community, and he saw a way in through his exceptional golfing skills. Golf and philandering were his vices, and after a car accident causes a mental block in his playing, he loses the former, and the latter is what ends up ruining them.

That summer, the girls' daring cousin Bett comes to visit. Twiss falls in love with her...it only seems a little weird, considering the setting and all. Milly is in love herself, with Asa, a wealthy widower's son. As all this is going on, their parents drift further apart, their mother is kicked out of the snobbish Sewing Society, and they try to come up with a way to raise money to bring Father Rice, the beloved priest who lost his faith, home again.

Much of the book seems quaint and light-hearted, but when the girls learn the truth about their father, things turn tragic very quickly. I won't get into too many details on that. Suffice it to say that for these sisters, things get too real too quickly. But they vow to stay together, and through the rest of their lives they do. They are happy, it seems, but they definitely have regrets about the past. 

I enjoyed this book quite a bit. It's one of those quality character-driven stories that I really get into. I would certainly read more by Rasmussen in the future.

Book #190: The Drawing of the Three

Book #190: The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

May 24, 2015

I was going to save The Dark Tower series for when I'm officially on summer break. But this one was available through the elibrary, and none of the other options were tripping my trigger, so I got a jump start. This second volume makes me really excited to continue the series. The Gunslinger was pretty good; this book was great.

It starts off with Roland losing two fingers and a toe to a carnivorous giant lobster-type thing. The lobster thingie also poisons him, so he's more than in a bit of a bind. But he continues his journey in search of the Dark Tower. In this book, the man in black's prophecies are fulfilled. Roland encounters three doors, all leading to this world...or the past, as it still seems like Roland lives in the very distant future. Through each door, Roland takes on a person's perspective; that person has some hand in Roland's destiny.

Eddie and Odetta/Detta/Susannah are fascinating characters. They are the ones through the first two doors, and are destined to join Roland on his journey. Eddie was a heroin addict, so obviously coming through to Roland's barren world helps solve that problem. Odetta's issues are a bit more complex, to say the least. She's a schizophrenic whose legs end just below the knee. In spite of her handicap, her other personality, Detta, is very dangerous. When Roland goes through the third door and kills the man who twice tried to kill her, she literally splits into her two distinct personalities. They merge into Susannah, who is tough, smart, yet kind as Odetta always was. She and Eddie are in love, and both accept their fate to accompany Roland, come what may...and Roland acknowledges that they will face many dangers.

Roland's first and third trips through the door were exciting. When he got Susannah, he got her back through quickly because Detta was freaking out. In Eddie's time (1987, the year the book was published), Eddie was smuggling coke in from the Bahamas. He and Roland end up in a shoot-out with the mafia boss who'd hired him after Eddie's brother O.D.'d while being held hostage. Eddie's twisted relationship with his brother was interesting, as he'd always been made to feel guilty about the sacrifices his brother had made to care for him. Henry was the one who led him to getting hooked on heroin in the first place; talking it all out with Roland helped Eddie to finally see his brother's flaws.

Jack Mort, the man through the third door, was never meant to accompany them to the Tower. Roland was meant to kill him, to force Odetta/Detta to confront each other at last. Mort was a wealthy accountant who killed people for fun; he'd dropped a brick on Odetta's head when she was a little girl, and pushed her in front of a subway when she was an adult. When Roland came into his mind, he'd been preparing to push Jake (yes, that Jake) in front of moving traffic. Roland prevents this, thus saving the life he'd once taken...does that fix things with Jake? Will we ever know?

Mort reminded me of Patrick Bateman. Maybe Bateman was inspired by this character, to an extent? Anyway, Roland knows the guy is a piece of shit, and he feels good about being able to kill him, getting him run over by a subway, the same one that had paralyzed Odetta years before. 

Odetta was interesting, even without the split personality. A wealthy black woman in the 1960s, she was active in the Civil Rights Movement. Before getting forced into Roland's world, she'd been in Oxford, Mississippi, to protest or something. The situation with Ole Miss and James Meredith (which Bob Dylan sang about in a song that Eddie vaguely remembers) was a couple of years before that, I think, but it might have been related.

Eddie, Susannah, and Roland seem like a motley crew, but Roland admires the grit of his two companions. He acknowledges them both as gunslingers as they continue their journey. It's unclear why they (especially Susannah, it seems) are so important, but I assume it will all become clear as I continue the series. I can hardly wait, though I may hold off on reading the third volume for a couple of weeks, when I'll officially be on summer break.

Book #189: Quiet

Book #189: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain

May 20, 2015

I am quite an introverted person. Even as a little kid as young as six or seven, I remember being very cerebral; I sometimes wondered if I thought too much. I wish I'd had someone to tell me that being introverted was okay, because as a child and a teen, I felt ashamed of my personality. I desperately wanted to be the exact opposite, because society (and perhaps my parents, to an extent) sent the message that being introverted was undesirable. And as an introvert, I was always conscious of the judgment of others. It was a vicious cycle.

I'm still very much an introvert as an adult, and though I've come to embrace it (I mean, if I were more sociable I wouldn't have time to read so many books), I found this book to be validating, to an extent. And I think that was part of Cain's intention, to prove that this temperament is all right, even ideal in many ways. 

Cain looks at the benefits of being an introvert in many areas of life, the unique challenges that cerebral people face in Western culture, and makes suggestions for how to raise a secure introverted child. Basically, to an extent a person is born either introverted or extroverted. Obviously nurture, as well as a person's life choices, have effects on personality development, but biology plays an important role. When we were chatting at my niece's first birthday party recently, my dad brought up a favorite anecdote about my own first birthday: I crawled away on my own and was found in the closet (hardy har har) with a book. This book gave me a new frame through which to view that story: I was largely born an introvert, and having felt overstimulated, I retreated and had some "me" time. Good work, baby Lynsey. How very self-aware of you.

I found the comparisons of different cultures to be interesting, but not surprising. Having traveled to China, I was already familiar with the concept of "saving face." The dominance of introversion in Eastern cultures is in contrast to the "extrovert ideal" in the West. I felt more than ever that I would be better understood (personality wise, that is) in an Asian country. Being hypersensitive to others' feelings...I was always that way, and still am to some extent. So that particular chapter shows how upbringing and culture also have a large hand in shaping personality. It just so happens that in Asian countries, the extroverts are more suppressed, rather than the other way around.

Overall I found this book very interesting. Not just because of the personal validation and the insight into my temperament, but also because of the information on how introverts are often ill served in schools. I think Cain is correct when she says that all kids benefit from a healthy mix of group work and independent work. In a time when differentiated instruction is needed in diverse classrooms, keeping in mind students' temperaments is important; even the most gifted student, if he or she is an introvert, will struggle if there is too much emphasis on group work.

The one part of the book that I didn't get into was near the beginning, when Cain talks about introverts in corporate America or the Ivy Leagues. I don't give a shit about corporations or stocks, and I think people who shuck out hundreds or thousands for seminars by Tony Robbins or similar are suckers. I have an advanced degree, but I went to state universities. There was a bit of an elitist tone throughout this book, though fortunately the entire focus wasn't on business. I mean, obviously the child development and psychology experts would be at top schools. But the "average" people interviewed were upper middle class, lawyers and professors and shit, in California or the East Coast. Not everybody, but the vast majority. It doesn't change the major points that Cain made, but for some reason that irked me. It made it pretty clear whom her audience was and, I don't know, that bugs me a little. I shouldn't assume that Cain is an elitist because she used to be a corporate lawyer, but...

So overall I enjoyed this book. It offered some interesting insights into psychology and development that I'd never considered before. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go do what feels right for me...read some more, and not talk to anyone but my dog for the remainder of the night.

Book #188: The Two Towers

Book #188: The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

May 14, 2015

As I read this book, I realized how little I remembered of the film version. I remember a little of the battle between the soldiers of Rowan and Saruman's forces (especially Gimli and Legolas's competitive tally of their kills), the tension between Sam and Gollum, and the giant spider (Shelob) who almost killed Frodo. That's about it, so besides one point that I'll explain, I have no clue what the movie neglected to include. I'm thinking I ought to re watch the trilogy once I've read the third installment.

I do seem to recall that the film version of Frodo (played by Elijah Wood, a hometown hero where I live) seemed more willing to trust Gollum, and was almost naïve about it. Frodo in the book has more complex feelings about the wretched creature. He shares Sam's feelings of mistrust, though he isn't openly hostile to him. He basically keeps him around to guide them into Mordor because he thinks that's what Gandalf would want him to do. But he's not blind, and he knows what Gollum is capable of.

I remember being really confused about why the other surviving members of the Fellowship had gotten wrapped up in a battle. But it all ties together, as wicked Saruman was working for Sauron, though he had been trying to get the one ring for himself. So Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Gandolf fighting to defend Rowan makes sense. 

The Fellowship keeps getting split up. Sam and Frodo are on their own with the ring, of course. Merry and Pippin had been kidnapped by Saruman's Orcs, though they got away and were assisted by Ents, those giant tree creatures. But after reuniting with the others, Pippin and Gandolf ride off alone after Pippin had a look at Saruman's crystal ball...bringing him face-to-face with Sauron. Traumatizing!

Like the last book, Tolkien leaves things in suspense going into the next installment. I may need to read The Return of the King sooner rather than later, so I don't forget important details going into the final book. I know how it ends, obviously (if my memory is correct!), but there will certainly be many many details that I will be picking up for the first time.

A quick note on the title. I couldn't tell which towers it referred to, since both halves of the story mentioned at least a couple of different towers. Apparently Tolkien meant it to be ambiguous; the title was meant to tie together two otherwise very separate parts of the story, I guess. That makes me feel better, because I was starting to think that that was yet again something I had missed.

Book #187: The Penultimate Peril

Book #187: The Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket

May 13, 2015

Book the Twelfth of A Series of Unfortunate Events. This book was baffling in many ways, which I'll go over. But I'll start by pointing out that the on-going theme of the Baudelaires' loss of innocence was the central theme. On a mission at the Hotel Denoument, assigned to them by the cryptic (and pregnant) Kit Snicket, the children are told that they must be on the lookout for villains and "noble" people...and they must observe and judge for themselves which is which. They quickly realize that in most cases, the lines are blurry. As Fernand said in the last book, no one is really wholly evil or good. And the Baudelaires (and the reader) start to realize how monsters like Olaf are created.

While it was fun to see some previous characters again (like the ever-obnoxious Nero), I'm still not sure why Olaf and Esmé invited them to the hotel to attend their party. I don't think that question will ever be answered, since the party never happens. Olaf dumps Esmé in a fit of annoyance, the presence of Carmelita being a source of tension. Oh, and the Baudelaires burn down the hotel.

Their reasoning for this was complicated. First off, it was Sunny's idea; her intention was to send Kit a message, as they'd been instructed. Why go to such extremes? Well, think about all that these poor kids have been through. They've encountered people with wicked intentions who are relentless, and people with decent intentions who are useless. They have just been tricked by the evil couple from The Slippery Slope, who are apparently influential justices in the High Court. Justice Strauss herself never suspected that they were so underhanded, and she'd known them for years. That's just one frustrating issue that the kids faced in this book.

Also, they accidentally shot and killed Dewey Denoument, Kit's baby-daddy, when trying to disarm Olaf in a tense standoff. They obviously did not murder him, but the hundreds of witnesses at the hotel think they did. Their reputations were already in shambles so...fuck it, right? They just wanted to get out of there, even if it meant hitching a ride on Olaf's boat. 

They never wanted to kill anybody. They warned people on each floor of the hotel about the fire, so whether or not people heeded their warning I guess was somewhat on each individual. But they left that chaotic scene of friends, foes, and strangers behind them...and are now on a boat in the ocean with Olaf! Talk about tension.

I felt that Handler missed a good opportunity with his Native Son reference. I would have compared Bigger to Olaf, or even the Baudelaires themselves. Bigger did horrifying things, including killing two women. But what turned him into a monster? Fear fueled by racism. Anger fueled by poverty. His circumstances turned him into a monster, and while it doesn't excuse his actions, it does make him human. The reader gets a bit about Olaf's past in this book. He, too, was orphaned...his parents were murdered by poison darts. Now, that's the same weapon that the Baudelaire parents used at some point. Against whom, we don't know, but while I don't think it was Olaf's parents (the timeline wouldn't make sense), it's still a jarring similarity. I'm sure we'll learn more harrowing details about Olaf's past in the next (and final) book. While his own unfortunate circumstances could never excuse his behavior, it makes him more...human.

And what about the Baudelaires? I guess both literally and metaphorically, they're in the same boat as Olaf. To an extent they've reached the end of their rope, and who can blame them? I commented on an entry on an earlier book that these kids seemed to operate on a higher moral plane, but that's not quite true anymore. I don't see them as bad people, still, but I can see how they could go bad from here. It's a slippery slope (hardy har har), but they are not so far gone that they can't still make a choice. To an extent, they know this.

So much depth for a children's series! I think that I will accomplish my goal of finishing the series by year's end. Only 16 school days to go, but even if I don't finish The End in that time, I'll get to it...I'll borrow the book going into summer if I must. I am eager to see how things turn out for all four of the boat's occupants. From the cover, though, I think Olaf will be done for...I'm not mad at that.

Book #186: Breakfast of Champions

Book #186: Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

May 8, 2015

Having just finished this novel, I am not yet sure what I think of it. Vonnegut's a bit bizarre...I knew that, that's what I like about his work. This particular book, one of his most celebrated, may have gone a bit too far. I'm don't know yet...hopefully I will by the time I finish writing this.

At the beginning of the book, you get the impression that the narrator (who turns out to be Vonnegut himself) is someone from another planet. The outsider's observations on the absurdity of life in the U.S. were funny and true, to an extent. Vonnegut uses this as a way of pointing out certain hypocrisies in our society, especially in regards to the treatment of black people. This book definitely has an anti-racist tone, as it examines the racist attitudes of the white citizens in Midland City. It also casts a harsh light on class and wealth, through the stories of Dwayne Hoover's family (his adoptive father especially), as well as the details of how gangs basically run Midland City. The swindlers are the ones who get ahead, just like in real life.

In spite of the prologue, I still found it jarring when Vonnegut entered the story. That got rid of the idea of a futuristic narrator speaking, so I found it strange that Vonnegut would give us that impression in the first place. I was getting really into the story at that point, too. 

Until Vonnegut's arrival, the story mainly revolved around Kilgore Trout (who was a minor character in Slaughterhouse-Five) and Dwayne Hoover. We know all along that these two men will meet, and what the result of the meeting will be. Hoover's descent into madness is the best part of the story, but I mainly enjoyed the details on the different characters. They were all weird and detailed enough to seem realistic. 

So really, it's Vonnegut putting himself into the situation that has me most torn. But here's my take on it. He repeatedly refers to the Creator of the Universe...God, of course. Many people who ponder the existence of a higher power wonder why God would allow bad things to happen. Why the hate and violence? Why the natural disasters that kill people and destroy lives? How could God be so cruel?

Well, you could say that a writer is the creator of his or her own universe. In this case, Vonnegut is the creator...he even says to Kilgore Trout, "I am your Creator." Why would he allow one of his characters to go nuts and hurt a bunch of people? Why would he create a (realistic) world with so much racism and poverty? The question isn't answered, though Vonnegut, unlike the actual Creator of the Universe which may or may not exist, expresses a desire to free his characters...but what does that even mean? Without him, they're literally nothing.

I write creatively, a little. I stink at it, but I still do it, in hopes of maybe creating something that somebody else would want to read. This is a book that I think would be best appreciated by people who write. It is complex and multilayered, and I definitely feel like it needs multiple readings to be fully grasped. So in spite of what I feel is a lack of solidity in this work, overall I can appreciate the complexity and what Vonnegut was attempting here. It definitely makes me want to read more by him.

Book #185: The Princess Bride

 Book #185: The Princess Bride by William Goldman

May 4, 2015

Many people (myself included) consider the film The Princess Bride to be a classic. The cast is charming, the dialogue is clever...it's just a fun movie. The book is just as much fun to read, and there are few differences between the book and film to speak of; in fact, much of the dialogue, including the best lines, are used verbatim. No surprise, since Goldman, a celebrated screenwriter, wrote the adaptation himself.

Goldman uses a fictional version of himself as the framing device. He tells the story of himself as a kid with pneumonia, whose father, an immigrant of the fictional country of Florin, reads him a classic tale from his homeland: The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern. This launches the boy's love for fantasy literature, and leads him to his career as a writer. Years later, he finds a rare copy of the book for his son. When Jason, a fat boy, reveals that he tried to read the book, the grown Goldman is baffled. He looks at the book for the first time, having only ever heard the story when his father read it aloud, and he finds that it is much longer than his father let on. Daddy Goldman only read the "good parts." So Goldman decides to write an abridgment, making the story more accessible to young readers and recreating the story as he'd known and loved it. 

That's obviously very different from the movie. It's only framed by Fred Savage (sick in bed) getting the book read to him by his grandfather (Columbo, I think). So all of the stuff about Goldman and his fictional son and loveless marriage with his fictional wife is different.

We also get more background on the characters, of course. We see more of Buttercup's animosity towards Westley when they were young, plus her development into the most beautiful woman in the world. The movie doesn't emphasize her lack of formal education as much as the book does; for instance, she dislikes numbers and mixes up words like "syllable" and "syllabub." So to be perfectly honest, Buttercup in the book is little more than a pretty face with a tendency to be stubborn. I felt like the perfection that is Robin Wright (yass, queen!) gave real life to the character.

Inigo and Fezzik were just as wonderful here as in the movie. You actually get to see when the sadistic count kills Domingo Montoya, and Inigo's years to training to be good enough to fight the expert swordsman. Fezzik has an interesting childhood, becoming a professional fighter at a young age to please his parents, though the booing he endures when he wins so easily kills his self esteem. Poor Fezzik! Andre the Giant played him perfectly. 

25 years after the publication of the original novel, Goldman added on a little more. He gave an update on his fictional persona's life: fat Jason became a fit bodybuilder and a sex therapist, and while Goldman's wife eventually left him, his career as a screenwriter had continued success (that part is true). His grandson wants him to abridge Morgenstern's follow-up to The Princess Bride, but he only decides to do it when he's informed by the late Morgenstern's lawyer that he can't: the job's already gone to a fictional version of Stephen King. King suggests that Goldman abridge the first chapter; he personally doesn't want to, but his relatives in Florin have applied pressure, and he kinda thinks he can do a better job than Goldman. So we only get a single chapter of the unfinished follow-up, "Buttercup's Baby." It was okay, I guess, but I'm not exactly peeved that Goldman didn't go on to just write the whole sequel. 

This is a rare case where the movie is better than the book. The book is still very good, but the movie is phenomenal. I also think that this is a situation where the author using himself as a fictional character worked out...it doesn't always. But I'm glad that the movie focused on the main plot, and not on fictionalGoldman  himself.