Book #197: Brown Girl Dreaming

Book #197: Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

June 27, 2015

This book was published less than a year ago, but it's already been awarded a number of honors. It's definitely a great text for teen readers; I've read a few books like this, stories told through a series of free-form poems. The difference here is that Woodson's work is autobiographical. I could see it having a lot of appeal for young readers, and I was fully engaged with this quick read.

Jacqueline was born in 1963, a particularly tumultuous year during the Civil Rights Movement. Her family lives in Ohio, but when she's still young her mother leaves her husband, taking her three children home to South Carolina. Jacqueline remembers her time with her grandparents fondly, even as she bristles under the strict rituals of the Jehovah's Witnesses, and as her beloved grandfather's health deteriorates. She's definitely a sheltered child, even when she and her siblings move to New York with their mother. She and her sister have an interest in the Movement, and they've heard stories of how their mother and other family friends and neighbors have been involved. 

I found myself thinking, as I read, about how racial issues in our country have been erupting lately. The whole situation in Charleston had me in tears; a bunch of nice, church-going old people, gunned down in church because of their race. This is sounding too much like the shit that was going on the year that Woodson was born. She's telling her story of being a young girl, who struggles to read but loves stories and wants to write. While her dream has come true with this beautifully written work, it's sad to think that some things haven't changed since that child was born. 

I don't know if Woodson has published any other books. I'm planning to look into it. Every work that I've read written in this style of poetry has been great. What I'd really love to see is Woodson continue her life story in another volume. My only complaint about this book is that it seemed to end abruptly, in Woodson's early adolescence. I'd read about her teenage years and beyond, if she chooses to tell that story. 

Book #196: Juliet, Naked

Book #196: Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby

June 24, 2015

Some Goodreads reviewers wrote that this book started strong, but had a weaker and less satisfying second half. I'd have to say that I agree. I was interested in the relationships between the three main characters, but by the end of the book I felt like they were all pathetic...in a realistic, relatable way, but still. I found myself pitying them, but there's a thin line between pitying someone and despising them. I don't think I quite crossed it, though.

The title refers to an album; more specifically, the stripped-down demos of a famous album. Juliet was a break-up album by Tucker Crowe, who abruptly ended his career and hid from the public eye for two decades not long after its release. Crowe still has some fans worldwide, who share their interpretations and theories on Crowe and his music online. I could relate to Duncan, a Crowologist who takes himself very seriously. He's a textbook introvert: obsessed with obscure things, avoiding awkward social situations, feeling his best when he expresses himself in writing. I've never been obsessed with anything to the extent that he is with Tucker Crowe, but I've had people in my life not "get" what I'm into. He's definitely a snob when it comes to music, and many people think of him as being a dweeb, but he's a pretty harmless dweeb, a man-child, really. He's a huge dick for cheating on Annie, though, and pretty self-absorbed. I don't like him, but I get him, even if I find him rather pathetic.

So the album that shares its title with the book sets everything into motion. Being a diehard fan, Duncan is quick to praise the stripped -down version of his old favorites online. Annie, his partner, is kind of a Crowe fan by proxy, and so is able to give a more objective review. Crowe himself sees it and emails her.

Tension has been building between Annie and Duncan, even before his infidelity. She secretly corresponds with Crowe, relishing what Duncan's reaction would be if he knew. This, I can understand. What I don't get is why Annie fell for Tucker herself. There's no chemistry there that I could detect. That's when things started to go downhill.

Tucker is the most pathetic of all. He's a stereotypical ex-rock star, with kids scattered all over whom he barely knows and a history of alcohol abuse. He doesn't drink anymore, and is trying to be a good dad to his youngest, but he still lives off of his exes, not bringing in any income whatsoever. Plus, he reads about himself online (since he saw both Annie and Duncan's reviews of his work), yet he dismisses his remaining fans as being losers. Takes one to know one, asshole! Knowing all of this, Annie still sleeps with him. It's implied that she drops her life in Gooleness, a seaside town in northern England, and goes to Pennsylvania to be with Tucker in the end. She basically goes from one man-child to another. Give me a break!

I wish this book had focused more on that tension in Annie and Duncan's relationship. I almost feel it would have been better if Duncan had learned about Annue's contact with his idol sooner...or, if the person contacting her wasn't Tucker at all. The book started off so strong that the second half was a huge disappointment. I'll give Hornby another go sometime; I'll probably read High Fidelity, his most famous work. Wasn't that made into a movie starring John Cusack? Anyway, I wanted to like this book more than I did, but it's hard to love a book when you don't really like the characters. I guess I crossed that line from pity to contempt after all.

Book #195: Eyes On You

Book #195: Eyes On You by Kate White

June 20, 2015

This isn't the kind of book is normally read. It came up as the current Big Library Read book through my elibrary, and since I enjoyed the last one so much, I decided to go for it. That was kind of a mistake, because in my opinion, this book is pretty crappy. For anybody who likes predictable mystery books or cheesy Lifetime movies, this novel might be an enjoyable read. I really didn't like anything about it.

First off, the characters in this book work for a cable news network, sort of like MSNBC. I don't even have cable, and I hate "entertainment news" and political pundits, so right away I had a bias against the characters. Robin, the main character, is the cohost of a celebrity news show. She repeatedly explains the difficulties in her past: a psychotic stepmother, a divorce from a cheating husband, an injury that stalled her career. But she's on this hot new show, and she's just published a book about...well, I don't really know what the hell her book is about, because the text barely gets into that. Life is good for Robin.

But then, creepy things start happening to her. She gets a threatening note at a party, a Barbie doll with the eyes cut out, that kind of thing. She believes, until the weak climax, that it's the host of another show on her network who feels threatened by her rising star power. There are other people who seem suspicious, too. But the actual culprit is someone you're not supposed to suspect...I called it about a quarter of the way in. 

Now, the predictability of the book wasn't my biggest issue. This book is just really boring. Robin, as narrator, is repetitive and self-absorbed. The book pretty much consists of her worrying and complaining. There are some laughable sex scenes, and a murder that you can see coming from a mile away. This book could have been half its length, and that would have improved it some. 

The characters aren't likable, the plot is unoriginal, and the narrative is dull. I might have liked this book if I were in middle school. I've written before about how I read a lot of Mary Higgins Clark in 7th grade. I felt like the characters seemed kind of old-fashioned, so the pop culture references in this book would have impressed my 13-year-old self. My more-than-twice-as-old self? Not so much.

Book #194: Snow Country

Book #194: Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata (translated by Edward G. Seidensticker)

June 17, 2015

I skimmed the translator's introduction after I finished this short novel. Seidensticker compares Kawabata to haiku writers, and there is definitely a poetic vibe to the story. The main character Shimamura observes the beauty of the world around him and the women with whom he interacts. Kawabata doesn't give us a whole lot of background on his characters, but the little details that he drops are rather telling.

The story revolves around a couple of overlapping love triangles. Komako is a geisha in a small mountain village in northern Japan. The introduction helped to put her situation into context. Unlike urban geisha of the time, rural geisha don't have much chance at a future outside of that line of work. What they do is not seen as an art like it would have been in the urban tea houses; a geisha like Komako is more or less a prostitute, but still has a good social standing as they entertain guests who come for the hot springs. Shimamura, a wealthy man who never has to work, is one such visitor. His solo trips (three total) to this hot spring village are not explained; like, why did he end up there, in a place with little cultural attraction, when he's so into the arts? The introduction once again helped this to make more sense.

So Shimamura and Komako are drawn to one another, and she seeks him out whenever he's in town. On his second visit, he becomes interested in a situation involving Komako, her old friend Yukio (who dies of an illness around the time that Shimamura heads back to Tokyo), and Yoko, Yukio's young lover who accompanied him back to his hometown. Shimamura is fascinated by Yoko, much to Komako's consternation. 

But the most important relationship is the complicated one between the two women. Yoko respects but does not like Komako...at least that's what she tells Shimamura. Komako's feelings are much harder to place. She is jealous, sure, and even says that she thinks Yoko is insane. But she pulls Yoko from the fire in the warehouse at the end. We don't know if Yoko is dead or alive, but Komako's feelings towards her are best illustrated in this final scene. It may be that, if Yoko survived, these two would continue their complex relationship for the rest of their lives. 

I almost do want more about these three main characters, but I appreciate the story as is. It's short but complex and beautiful. I'm most intimidated by these kinds of books, even now. So it's all the more important that I read such books; if anything, these blog posts are a way of digesting what I've read. 

Book #193: A Tale of Two Cities

Book #193: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

June 12, 2015

When I was in the fifth grade, I attempted to read this book in the school library. I didn't get past the famous "best of times, worst of times" verse that famously starts this book before deciding it was too difficult and put it back. Why a school with only 5th and 6th graders would have the works of Dickens in the library, I couldn't tell you. I'm obviously a much more confident and sophisticated reader now than I was at age 11, but I went into this knowing as much about the story as I did then: the opening lines, the closing lines, and that the two cities were London and Paris. That's about it.

But some of my reading lately has given me the background knowledge to understand what's going on in France in the book. It's the late 18th century, and while both France and England have societies that keep the poor downtrodden and the wealthy living it up, it's the French who are going to violent extremes to do something about it. As much as Dickens was an advocate for social equality (at least when it comes to class distinction and treatment of the poor...let's not forget that he was prejudiced and kind of a prick), he clearly was critical of the French Revolution, though he gets what drove them to it.

Dickens focuses on grassroots efforts in the Revolution; Robespierre and other influential people who helped organize the violence are not mentioned. In the section of Paris in which most of the story takes place, Defarge and his wife are the ones running things, with their wine bar serving as a front and a meeting place for supporters of the Revolution. I think this book, while not bad, would have been 10 times better if Madame Defarge had been the main character. She has a right to be angry, but takes it too far when she uses the Revolution as a way to get revenge on Darnay's family for what happened to her siblings. That this event led her and her husband to be so involved in the bloody Revolution makes sense, though.

The heroes of the story are meant to be Carton and Darnay and his family. I felt like Dickens could have done with more character development. For instance, I wanted to know more about Carton's past, why he felt he was such a worthless piece of shit. He essentially says as much, and that's why he doesn't feel worthy of Lucie, though he's so in love with her. His attitude toward her reminded me of Mr. Darcy's toward Elizabeth: "I don't like her, she's stupid and not even that pretty...aw shit, I love her." 

Lucie is pretty much described as being pretty, devoted, and emotionally fragile. That's about it. If there was more to her than being the stock character, pretty and a good daughter/wife/mother, then I might have cared about the whole situation more.

I felt like Mr. Lorry, the first character we meet, is pretty interesting. He's very dedicated to his work at a London bank, but he becomes personally involved with Darnay and Lucie and their whole crew. He's helpful to their whole situation, but that's about it for him. 

I could go on about how I wanted more about Jerry Cruncher, how Miss Pross had unfulfilled potential to be more than a stock character, and how Darnay himself was a snooze, but I think I'm making my point. It all boils down to this: Carton's sacrifice didn't pack the emotional wallop that it might have because I didn't care much about the main characters. 

In some ways this was different from any other Dickens I've read. But he attempts those twists and shocks that really were predictable, and heavily foreshadowed. I think that, had this book actually been longer and gotten into more detail on the individual characters, this book would have been easier to get into. As it was, the only parts I really appreciated were Doctor Manette's PTSD, and the French Revolution setting. This book was not everything it could have been. So far, Dickens does not have the best track record with me.