Side Project

I haven't been posting as much on here lately because I've been working on this silly side project:

50 Shades of Terrible Prose

You should probably check it out if you like making fun of ridiculous things.

Book Review: How to Talk to a Widower by Jonathan Tropper

Jonathan Tropper has carefully carved himself a niche, and that niche is a depiction of grief that is somehow both poignant and peppered with hilarity.  I didn't think such a combination stood a chance at succeeding until I read Tropper's 2011 novel, This is Where I Leave You, and even then I thought it must be a piece of stand-alone genius, that Tropper must be a brand new voice, perhaps even a one-hit wonder.  So imagine my surprise when I picked up How to Talk to a Widower by pure chance at the library and discovered that this particular brand of brilliantly witty tragedy is something Tropper has been perfecting for years.

In How to Talk to a Widower we meet Doug, the titular widower (try saying that three times fast), a man who, at age 29, was hardly expecting to find himself lost in the aftermath of his wife's tragic demise and struggling to simply function in a world that has kept on turning without him.  Doug's family appears on the scene, an integral part of his mourning process and a wonderfully dysfunctional group who are themselves walking a tightrope between support for and frustration with their wayward relative.  Doug's twin sister Claire is especially charming in a sardonic fashion, convinced she can kick her brother's ass right out of his funk while simultaneously dealing with her own crumbling marriage.  But by far the best supporting player is Doug's rebellious teenage stepson Russ, who falls seamlessly into dual roles as both the child in need of guidance and a uniquely understanding friend with whom Doug can commiserate.

What is most impressive about this book, though, is the journey we take within Doug's mind, guided by a tortured narration that is devastatingly real.  Doug spends huge amounts of time obsessing over the details of his wife's death, over memories that are more significant than ever in the wake of his loss.  He even writes a regular column for the magazine he works at, examining his experience and almost inadvertently sharing the feelings he tries to suppress; and while this might sound over-the-top, it adds yet another layer to the intricate portrait of a man in transition, a man who must navigate a new world without the person he had come to rely on to guide him.

For anyone who's lost someone, and even for those who haven't, this book is a must-read.  Tropper's insights may emerge from unexpected places but they ring all the more true for it.

Book Review: One Day by David Nicholls

This novel is yet another in the alarming trend I've begun of reading books that hit entirely too close to home.  Yes, One Day is on the surface a love story, a romance between two people told over twenty years, but it's about so much more than that.  Nicholls examines the condition of young people in the modern age with such stark honesty and unapologetic truth that, for the recent college grad only beginning to embark on the "rest of my life" path, a lot of the story (most particularly the parts that aren't intended as tragic) read with a profound sadness.

Emma and Dexter officially meet on the day of their graduation from university, July 15th 1988.  They spend the next 24 hours getting to know each other (no, not in exactly the way you're thinking, though there is some snogging), and their relationship is revisited on July 15th of each subsequent year, during which they always have some sort of significant interaction or event taking place in their respective lives.  Each of them veers down a misguided path at different points, and though many readers would probably jump to vilify Dexter for the caddish drunk he becomes in his late twenties, there is something even more regrettable about Emma's descent into boredom and complacency, her refusal to take chances and for a while, to pursue her true ambitions.  Both characters spend much of the story lost in this manner, unsure of themselves as they attempt to navigate the transition from adolescence to adulthood with little initial success.  They are utterly miserable and you feel miserable reading about them, especially as it becomes clear that the lone bright spot in either of their lives is the other, a fact that they spend entirely too many pages refusing to realize.

There is also an overarching theme of wasted time, and the opportunities we miss out on in life and in love.  We see several moments when Dexter or Emma very nearly takes the plunge, trying to change the status of the relationship, but they are foiled again and again by their circumstances or their own respective cowardice.  This is a story that, contrary to what the advertisements for its film adaptation (more on that in a bit) would have you believe, does not have a happy ending.  What I loved so much about it though was that I didn't want it to.  This story has a painfully real ending, and it is everything these two characters both do and don't deserve.  Nicholls takes us on a journey that we can empathize with because it could so easily be my story, or yours or his or hers.  It's universal, this struggle to be that we watch Emma and Dexter endure, and the book concludes on a bittersweet note, one that has stuck with me (and, I expect, many other readers) as a lesson, or perhaps a glimpse of what our own futures might hold if we aren't careful.  One Day is a snapshot of life as most of us know it, and it is a better story for making no apologies for that.

As for the film adaptation, which opened in theaters yesterday, I am definitely interested to see how it pans out.  I can already tell where there might be some creative liberties taken, and those changes may or may not translate well on screen.  There are several factors, however, which encourage me to think it might be a reasonably good adaptation:  the performances of Jim Sturgess and Anne Hathaway, both of whom are more than capable of delivering the kind of emotional connection this novel begs; the fact that Nicholls himself wrote the screenplay, thus hopefully ensuring that the original intent of the story will not be lost; and most importantly the fact that this film is being released by Focus Features, which for me is as good as a guarantee of it's quality.  Some of the reviews I've read (I don't like to read too many going into a movie, at the risk of biasing myself) have been very negative, while others have indicated that it might be right up my alley.  I am determined to find out for myself, hopefully soon, and will have my full thoughts here once that happens.  In the meantime, I encourage anyone looking for a heartfelt, genuine read to give One Day a chance.

Book Thoughts: Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

I just finished this book, and I'm struggling a little to put my thoughts together.  It's by far my favorite of the books I've read this summer, and perhaps the most surprisingly so.  Don't get me wrong, I already knew Dostoevsky was a genius having read Crime and Punishment twice for school and analyzed the many many dimensions therein, but this little book made a much heavier impact on me.  Maybe I'm just surprised because it was a little tricky to jump into at first, with me reading a page or five and then ditching it for other forms of entertainment (usually tv or movies), but today I forced myself to sit still and really focus on it.  I was rewarded with the most intense reading experience I've had in quite some time.

It's not that Notes is by any means a thrilling tale-- it's literally one guy narrating bits and pieces from his dismal little life in 19th century Russia.  The narrator isn't likeable (intentionally so, but all the same...), and you're not really rooting for him in the way you might expect.  But the examination of his interior monologue as well as his interactions with the world around him is hugely satisfying.  Dostoevsky is just fantastic at sketching psychologically intriguing characters who are almost frighteningly relateable (though this narrator slightly less so than Raskolnikov, because he at least commits no murders).  Something that I always have as a goal with characterization, and something I admire in all my favorite writers, is to have a moment (several if the writer is truly gifted) where, no matter what the character's circumstances, personality, et al, the reader thinks to him/herself "Yes!  I know exactly what he/she means!"  Take me, for example:  I am obviously not an impoverished, largely misanthropic man living in 19th century Russia, but there are countless moments in this book where the narrator articulates nearly verbatim thoughts that I have had in my recent life (though of course, given that it's Dostoevsky, his are much more eloquent).  The second half of the book in particular, when we move from the narrator's musings to seeing how his views impact his interactions with other people, hits home in a way that, given some of the waxing philosophical in the book's opening, I wasn't necessarily expecting.

The other thing that really got me about this book is how quietly tragic it is.  I found myself tearing up during the last 20 pages or so, and it took me some time to figure out why.  It was the attitude with which the narrator closed the book that really got me, his discussion about the way people want the world to look as opposed to the way it actually is, and our collective tendency to get caught up in notions of heroes and good stories and be bored and disappointed by our reality.  And it dawned on me was that I was a mess precisely because this character and his thoughts were so relateable, and then he arrives at this sort of hopeless conclusion about life and how we're destined to live it.  Way to bring me down, F.D. (don't worry, it was in the best way).

Additionally, I firmly believe that this should be on the curriculum somewhere for college students.  It's a coming of age story-- well, not really, it's more of a coming to consciousness story, I guess-- but it grapples with the very kind of existential crisis that us post-adolescent intellectuals face.  So get on that, professors of America.

Book Review: The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrotta

While this book follows in my apparent trend this summer of reading about unhappy suburbanites and their seemingly infinite discontent, The Abstinence Teacher is a witty, sharp breath of fresh air.  Unlike Franzen's Freedom, which dwells overlong on a range of different tedious thing, Perrotta's story follows two intriguing characters (not to mention a cast of equally intriguing supporting players) as their lives unravel.  Ruth is the titular abstinence teacher, but as a fiercely liberal gal, this is definitely not a career path she's chosen for herself.  Tim is a former junkie and alcoholic who has jumped on the Jesus bandwagon in the hopes of finding redemption for his colorful past.  Perrotta does an excellent job setting the scene, giving us both characters' histories in a way that didn't have me skimming through to figure out what the point was, and paints a nuanced portrait of life in this suburb, from the youth soccer team that brings about Ruth and Tim's first meeting, to the crazy for Christ Tabernacle church.  Most everything in this novel feels so real you could practically reach out and touch it, and it was so easy to imagine real people living these lives almost exactly.  This is what contemporary fiction is supposed to look like.

Some specific things I really enjoyed included the characterization, and the note of sarcastic cynicism that looms over most of the book's proceedings.  Ruth is sharp and funny, her sometimes derisive tone adding color to a character who could have easily fallen too far into the role of victim.  And Tim's alternately dopey and insightful awareness of his world was equally refreshing, though in an entirely different way.  It was interesting to see someone who Ruth initially wrote off as a zealot be humanized in a way that generates true sympathy, even from this devout non-believer.  I also liked that it was a love story that strayed from the traditional construction.  Right from the beginning, the reader (and Ruth, as she later comments) think there might be a brewing "opposites attract" type of spark between the two, but it does not come to fruition until the book's end (and even then it's more of a conjecture of what's to come in the couple's future than anything).  I liked that this book dodged the pitfalls of writing the typical "romance"; I think any attempt to smash Ruth and Tim together before their characters were in precisely the right place would have come off as sloppy and formulaic.  What's great about the tension Perrotta builds, however, isn't that they don't hook up in a cliched way, it's that halfway through the book you almost want them to, just because it clearly needs to happen.  His choice is better, ultimately, but the fact that that moment occurs at all is a testament to the story he's written.

I would certainly recommend this book, which is the first I've read of Tom Perrotta's (more will surely be going on my list now).  It is definitely a great summer read, quick and absorbing but without sacrificing the quality of writing.

Additionally, IMDB informs me that this is currently in development to be made into a film.  I think it has the potential for a great adaptation, and I would be very interested to see it.  Even better, Steve Carrell and Sandra Bullock are rumored to be involved and potentially taking on the roles of Tim and Ruth, respectively.  Guess we'll have to wait and see.

Book Review: Bossypants by Tina Fey

Let's just get the gushing out of the way right off the bat.  I. LOVE. THIS. WOMAN.  Seriously, love love love love love Tina Fey.  It cannot be said enough.

The book was pretty good, too.  Okay, the book was phenomenal, everything I'd hoped when I put it on hold at the library all those weeks ago, and more.  Not only was it bursting at the seams with bite-sized doses of Fey's self-deprecating wit, there was actually some genuinely poignant advice to be found in its pages.

Of the things I learned in reading this, about Tina and about life, these are a few of the things that stood out:

1.  She made the best of a lot of crappy jobs before hitting it big, and now she gets to do her dream job, every day.  I am simultaneously envious and extremely inspired by this.

2.  She has a surprisingly healthy and, frankly, kind of awesome relationship with her parents, and especially her father, who earns a whole chapter dedicated to him.  He's old school and sounds like kind of a hard-ass at times, but rather than resent that she talks about how she's come to understand and respect it.  I know better than most that it can be hard to accept your parents for who they are, but seeing someone who's done that so well is a really nice change.

3.  She genuinely has no idea how gorgeous she is.  Seriously, there are a ton of us girls (yes, most of us nerds, but that's beside the point) who would kill to be a petite brunette firecracker who can pull off thick-framed glasses better than just about anyone who's not a 65 year old man.  Her "beauty tips" are self-deprecating and hilarious, and for me it's a confirmation that no, she doesn't take her looks too seriously, and she has no intent to do so.  As a movie star, that's a pretty darn admirable trait.

4.  She shares my love of/adoration for/worship of Amy Poehler.  Except coming from her it's not as borderline creepy, since you know, they're actually friends in real life.  But seriously, reading and hearing these two talk about how much they admire each other is such a breath of fresh air from all the Hollywood ladies constantly bickering with one another, and I LOVE it.  And it reminds me of the great friendships I've had, currently have, and hope to have as I get older and move forward in the world.

5.  She balances the mom/fun scale.  I know some women who try too hard to be Supermom, and the result is that they're tense and marginally crazy all the time.  On the flip side, I know women who try way too hard to be "cool" moms, and thus are terrible at the actual parenting side of things.  From what Tina writes about here, it's clear that she's made striking a balance a priority.  There are very few celebrity children that I foresee growing up to be well-adjusted individuals, but I'm pretty sure her daughter (and future child) will be among that minority.

6.  She really is a fantastic writer.  I've known for years that she could write amazing, hilarious things for television, but that doesn't always translate to ability to write a full-length book.  And yet, I picked this up and didn't put it down for the two hours it took me to read, because it just flew by.  The prose is as crisp and unembellished as the episodic style we usually see from her, and mixed in with the humor and interest naturally occurring in the stories she tells, it just plain works.  If this woman wanted to write anything else-- novel, comic book, toaster operation manual-- you can bet that I would be first in line to read it.

If you're still reading this post, then you are wasting valuable time you could be spending reading Bossypants.  Go do that instead.  I promise it'll be worth it.

Book Review: Life of Pi by Yann Martel

This book has just about everything you could want in a thoughtful summer read:  a charming protagonist, a harrowing journey, zoo animals, and well-articulated musings on life, death, God, and everything in between.  Life of Pi is the book I would recommend to any teenager or twenty-something who is feeling just a bit too sorry for themselves, because by the end (s)he will close the book and thank his/her lucky stars that they haven't endured the same journey as Pi, the book's narrator.

Martel illustrates the journey in a way that is swift and engaging, and in a way that successfully distracts you from the fact that you've been reading some 200 pages about animal feces and the uber-disgusting things one must eat for survival at sea.  It is easy to follow Pi's struggles with interest and compassion because he is fleshed out as such an intriguing, sympathetic character from the very beginning.

The most interesting thing about the book's climax and conclusion is the element of true horror and tragedy that Martel embeds in a seemingly innocuous way.  If that sentence doesn't really make sense, I'll clarify (albeit with spoilers):  the ship Pi is sailing on sinks, and he's left in a lifeboat with a cook, a sailor and his mother.  He watches the cook kill the other two, and then stabs him to death and sails on his own until he reaches Mexico.  That's not the story we're told, however, because during Pi's debrief in Mexico, he and the men he is with decide a telling with animals substituted in for humans is "the better story."  The realization that the entire tail has been a kind of childish allegory is haunting, and it is there that Martel fittingly ends the book.

Overall, there is some definite beauty in the simple prose of this novel, and I would certainly recommend it to anyone looking for a book to shake things up this summer.

Book Review: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

As I'm nowhere near an authority on African literature (in fact, I'm what some might call pretty ignorant of the genre), I'll keep my thoughts here brief.

This book is a simple one, with no-frills prose and a distinct awareness that the story itself is powerful enough to hit home with readers.  Achebe's English is beautiful, and I get the impression that this is definitely a wonderful gateway book into reading others from the African tradition (and trust me, some of them will certainly be added on to the endless list of Books I Must Read, though we'll see how soon I get to them).

The story was also one that allowed me to see anew all the struggles I'm sometimes too good at ignoring.  I like to think I'm a pretty worldly person with an understanding that at the end of the day, my life is pretty sweet (I think a lot of us intellectuals cling to this notion), but this book resurrected some of that first-world guilt in me again.  It was in a good way, though, I think, a way that puts things in perspective rather than causing me to revert back to my emo, angry-at-the-world days.  For me the high point of reading Things Fall Apart was just getting a glimpse of characters whose concerns are so drastically different from the protagonists of 95% of the other books I've been reading, and indeed most of the people I encounter in real life.

If you're looking for a sobering, eloquent read that will stay with you long after the closing pages, then this book is definitely for you.

Book Review: Saturday by Ian McEwan

This novel from the author of Atonement weaves the story of one man's day, a Saturday to be precise, and the strange series of events he encounters.  Henry Perowne is a neurosurgeon in London, and his meticulous routine is disrupted on this particular day by various invasions of the outside world and its accompanying violence.  We also meet Henry's family, and in the brief space of the prose, get an incredibly clear portrait of each member without the sense that McEwan is dwelling on unnecessary details.

Reading the second book by an author you've read before is always a challenge, because it's so tempting to compare the two works.  Naturally, Atonement was never far from my mind as I made my way through Saturday.  McEwan still has some tendencies I'm not crazy about-- for instance, his penchant for lengthy descriptions of things with which I'm not terribly concerned (see the multi-page depiction of a squatch match in the latter book, an incredibly difficult thing to sit through).

It takes a lot of skill to spend a few hundred pages detailing one 24-hour period, but McEwan does it with tremendous skill and a lot of poignant insight.  I guess I'm a bigger fan of introspection than I consciously realize, because I found myself instinctively comparing this to Jonathan Franzen's Freedom and finding that I liked Saturday better because there is so much more exploration of why the protagonist is doing what he's doing, and what it all means in the grand scheme of things.  I liked that McEwan essentially made his point and got out, delivering some beautiful articulations of the story's themes without dissolving into a lot of waxing poetic.

This is the best of the books I've read so far this summer, but there is always room for improvement!

Book Review: Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

It's not that I love being a contrarian (okay, sometimes I do), but I'm going to have to go against the crowd on this one, too:  Jonathan Franzen is, admittedly, a talented writer with an admirable grip on the nuances and complications of the modern suburban family; however, this is not (for me, at least), the example of "fiction-at-its-best" that I was led to expect.  Everywhere you look reviewers are singing Franzen's praises; he's a hit and a bestseller to boot not to mention apparently very arrogant about all of his success.  And maybe this really is a case of "his old stuff was better", but for me this book and Franzen's prose simply did not live up to the hype.

I think my major problem with Freedom is that it's a hundred (if not more) pages longer than it needs to be.  Maybe his editor is just indulgent at this point, assuming the book-toting soccer moms and hipsters they're counting on to buy it will read anything with Franzen's name attached.  In any event, there is just too much background on things that ultimately don't seem terribly significant to the story, not to mention a lot of excess prose (and not even the good, "look how beautifully I can describe these things" kind of excess). 

Patty is an interesting character, I will grant that.  However, I will also say that there are definitely times in the course of the narrative where she becomes flat, becomes a caricature in many ways, and it is frustrating that despite the book being largely in her perspective or at least attempting to be, we don't always get the insight into her behavior that I for one would have liked.  Given that the protagonist falls short in this regard, it seems unlikely that there could be any hope for the remaining characters.  Indeed, Walter doesn't become interesting until the novel's final third, and even the ground he gains there is later negated by his decision to reunite with his wife despite the unhappiness of their former relationship.

Freedom paints an honest portrait of the sufferings of the 21st century middle class-- and yes, that sounds melodramatic, but there is a lot of pain in this book, and not all of it self-created.  These characters are truly pathetic in many ways, and by the novel's end very few of them have changed significantly.  This is, in my opinion, both a positive and a negative:  positive because it is definitely more true to life to have characters who simply accept that their crappy decisions have led them to a particular moment; negative because in many cases (again, at least for me), fiction is about taking what would really happen and making it better in some way, with grander insights or more hope for the future.  The dismal note on which the book concludes left me wondering what I'd just spent some 700 pages and numerous hours on.  If I wanted to see a portrait of a dysfunctional family, I'd look around at my own or those of my friends and neighbors; or else I'd read one of the many better literary presentations of such a family. 

Sorry to disappoint, but the Franzen fan train is more than free to leave the station without me.

Book Review: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

As indicated in my post about what I'll be reading this summer, this series is one that was a last-minute addition, with the first novel forcibly thrust into my possession by my younger sister.  It took me about three days to get through, and I appreciated that-- Larsson's awareness that he isn't writing the next great novel is apparent, and the prose is clean-cut and direct.  There is a lot of hype going around about these books, and probably innumerable unsolicited opinions being published about them on the web, so I'll keep my thoughts as brief and spoiler-free as possible.

Speaking of spoiler-free, maybe I'm more of a sleuth than I originally thought, but I was able to predict large portions of this book prior to actually reading them.  The only thing I got completely wrong was the identity of the murderers, and in my opinion that was due to a mislead on Larsson's part.  It's true that I am usually predisposed to dismiss many mystery writers, because the standards for writing don't seem nearly as high, and many of them are very formulaic, but I will acknowledge that this is one of the better books I've read in this genre.  It was sophisticated and obviously well thought-out, and in many ways the perfect breezy summer read (well, despite the grisly nature of some of--okay, most of--the crime's content).

One thing I did have a problem with, however, and this is most likely because of how much people were hyping it up prior to my reading it, was the characterization of the two protagonists.  Blomkvist, the intrepid reporter, is flat and at times downright uninteresting as a person; he is kept afloat in my mind by the intriguing nature of the crime which he investigates over the course of the novel.  He was frankly kind of a lame hero, and there were times when it irked me to have to read so many pages of his thoughts and actions.  And though she was much more badass than any of the other characters, for me Lisbeth Salander was problematic as well.  I loved a lot of the things we learned about her prior to her teaming up with Blomkvist, and I think Larsson does a wonderful job making it clear why she is necessary and perhaps even the ideal person to help solve this case.  However, her [SPOILER ALERT] subsequent romance with Blomkvist, and particularly the note the book concludes on, seem much too weak for such a previously strong character.  The revelation that she thinks she's in love with Blomkvist is abrupt and fairly cliche, and it cast her too much in the mold of the typical female sidekick/love interest, which considering the compelling backstory and development of her character to that point, is a huge shame.

The mystery itself was my favorite part.  I loved trying to keep track of all the Vanger family relatives and figure out who had committed the crime in this "locked-room" whodunit; it just felt very old school in a way, like this could have been a revamping of a nineteenth century Russian story, complete with an old manor and an almost unbelievably odd cast of characters.  I was invested in the question of what had happened to Harriet (though my initial hypothesis did prove correct), and I enjoyed taking the journey with Blomkvist to uncover the past, even though I suspected how it might play out.  I could have done without the last chunk of the book (which details the aftermath once the mystery has already been solved), but overall this was a pretty good read, and definitely a great way to ease into some of the denser reading I have planned for myself this summer.

I will probably read the two subsequent novels, but I think I'll read a few other things to sort of cleanse my palate in between.  I am also very interested in taking a look at the film adaptations of this book, because I've heard nothing but rave reviews of the Swedish version, and of course I'm always intrigued to see what David Fincher (who is directing the American interpretation) has up his sleeve.

The Summer Reading Run-Down

All the proverbial dust has settled (save for the dust in my temporary bedroom, which has collected considerably in my absence), and all the graduation craziness is finally over.  That means a lot of things, but one of the better ones is this:  it's summer reading time!

I like to hold myself accountable by posting a list/telling people what I'm planning on reading.  I actually read the majority of last summer's list and reviewed a few of the books on my Tumblr, so this seems like  a tradition to continue.  Additionally, it's amusing (probably only to me) that my blogging goes through phases based on the availability of television.  I probably won't write about my usual shows (unless some kind of crazy news breaks) until they come back in September, which leaves much more time and energy for slightly more cultured things.  (I'm using the term "cultured" loosely, as it will refer primarily to me reading books and perhaps visiting parks.)

Here it is:
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (series, and at the insistence of my sister, who won't shut up about them)
Notes from Underground
The Idiot
100 Years of Solitude
His Dark Materials (series)
A Tale of Two Cities
Things Fall Apart
Dead Souls
Sons and Lovers
Remembrance of Things Past
Infinite Jest
Freedom
Middlemarch
Madame Bovary
The Last Tycoon

Naturally, this is only the first chunk of a much larger list (I am an English major, after all), so in the miraculous event that I make it through all of these in a timely fashion, I'll be updating promptly with more titles.  And of course, I am forever open to new suggestions to add to the list!