Halloween doth cometh, and it's my super-fave! Why, you may ask? Mostly because it's smack dab in the middle of my favorite season, and also there's candy. I may be too old to trick or treat, but I'm not too old to buy extra bags of candy and hide them all over the house and surprise myself! I must go do laundry- oh, look, candy corn! I should read this book- oh, look, an airhead tucked into the pages! I must brush my teeth- WITH A SNICKERS BAR! HOORAY!
Also, it's my wedding anniversary because we are just. That. Freaky. And no, we did not dress up for the wedding, before you ask. Unless you count me wearing a white dress and acting all bride-like as "dressing up" which, let's get real- it kind of was. Which was why I changed into jeans halfway through the reception.
ANYWOOT, in honor of my bestest holiday, I need an appropriately themed reading suggestion from you guys. I've already done Dracula, which is great even though I hate book-in-letter-form. Sorta light on the action, heavy on the punctuation. I've also done Frankenstein and for some reason can't think of anything else? Actually, that's not true, here are a few I'm thinking of-
1. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. It's funny-fake-creepy, and who doesn't love Mr. Tilney? I mean, every Austen man has a little something, but I think Mr. Tilney is the biggest flirt of them all. He's saucy. This one would be a re-read for me.
2. The Monk by Matthew Lewis. Super melodramatic Gothicy Gothicness. Raych at Books I Done Read A. is my blogging soul mate, and if you haven't read her funnies, you should AND B. just did a hyper-hilarious review of this book that makes me want to read it lickity-split, and share in her riotous laughter about it. Apparently, there are DEMON VIRGINS. What more could you ask for?
AND 3. The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe. Also super melodramatic Gothicy Gothicness, and it actually plays a pretty big role in Northanger Abbey. Alas, I've never read it because it was frickin' impossible to find until a recent library book sale made an annotated copy mine-all-mine. That being said, I'm very curious about the annotations. How does one annotate such a tome? "In this line, Radcliffe is referencing the ghosts that suck out your soul, as opposed to the ghosts that wear sheets."
So those are my ideas, but I'm open to other suggestions. Something that would give me good pregnant-costume ideas are super-welcome. So far, all I have is Sigourney Weaver from Alien. I'm just gonna draw an alien spawn on my t-shirt in puffy paint and make a pained expression while walking around in my underwear.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
"Mary Barton" by Elizabeth Gaskell: A Review
This should be renamed "A Pretty Girl's Guide to Not Being a Hoe-Bag; Also, Rich People Suck."
So the basics is deez: Mary Barton has a poor daddy. But Mary Barton is pretty and goes about flirting with rich, dastardly fellows whilst shunning the nice, poor-but-kinda-middle-class guy who LOVES HER DEEPLY despite the fact that she's kind of a goober. She does this because she had an aunt once-upon-a-prologue who was ALSO pretty and escaped the doldrums of poverty except really she became a hooker.
Ergo. Whole book becomes: will Mary end up a hooker? Of course, this is a Victorian novel so the answer is a decided NOPES. Indeed, she (shock also spoiler) marries poor-but-kinda-middle-class guy who LOVES HER DEEPLY in a romantic move foreshadowed from (literally) page 4.
Oh, and being poor is very hard, and food is nice, and being cold sucks, and the industrial revolution is bad, and rich people are silly heads, etc, etc, etc.
Problem Uno: In a move similar to North and South, Gaskell creates a protagonist about whom I don't give two bits. She's whiny, snobby, and irritating. Therefore, I don't care whether she becomes a hooker or starves in the poorhouse or marries Prince Albert. What's the deal-io, Gaskell? Can't write a likable heroine to save your life, can you? CAN YOU?
Problem Dos: Yeaheveryone dies. Within the first 50 pages. You're so tired of getting to know characters just to have them pop off, that before the thing is half way over you're emotionally just DONE. No me care-o.
Problem Tres: The political and social commentary, which is what this whole novel is actually SUPPOSED to be about, is boring and silly. The whole class struggle is embodied in Mary Barton's father, who seems to only be there to make speeches about unions and the poor man's blight. Now, the poor man's blight was the real deal in this time, so you have to try MIGHTY HARD to make it completely bleh.
Problem Quatro: Pacing= halting. Very Obvious CLIMACTIC EVENT that seems sort of random followed by Very Obvious resolution= tedium beyond comprehension.
Anywoot. This just furthered my resolve that Elizabeth Gaskell is a lesser known Victorian not because she was unfairly overshadowed by Dickens and other men of the time: she is lesser known because she kind of sucks.
One star out of your mom.
So the basics is deez: Mary Barton has a poor daddy. But Mary Barton is pretty and goes about flirting with rich, dastardly fellows whilst shunning the nice, poor-but-kinda-middle-class guy who LOVES HER DEEPLY despite the fact that she's kind of a goober. She does this because she had an aunt once-upon-a-prologue who was ALSO pretty and escaped the doldrums of poverty except really she became a hooker.
Ergo. Whole book becomes: will Mary end up a hooker? Of course, this is a Victorian novel so the answer is a decided NOPES. Indeed, she (shock also spoiler) marries poor-but-kinda-middle-class guy who LOVES HER DEEPLY in a romantic move foreshadowed from (literally) page 4.
Oh, and being poor is very hard, and food is nice, and being cold sucks, and the industrial revolution is bad, and rich people are silly heads, etc, etc, etc.
Problem Uno: In a move similar to North and South, Gaskell creates a protagonist about whom I don't give two bits. She's whiny, snobby, and irritating. Therefore, I don't care whether she becomes a hooker or starves in the poorhouse or marries Prince Albert. What's the deal-io, Gaskell? Can't write a likable heroine to save your life, can you? CAN YOU?
Problem Dos: Yeaheveryone dies. Within the first 50 pages. You're so tired of getting to know characters just to have them pop off, that before the thing is half way over you're emotionally just DONE. No me care-o.
Problem Tres: The political and social commentary, which is what this whole novel is actually SUPPOSED to be about, is boring and silly. The whole class struggle is embodied in Mary Barton's father, who seems to only be there to make speeches about unions and the poor man's blight. Now, the poor man's blight was the real deal in this time, so you have to try MIGHTY HARD to make it completely bleh.
Problem Quatro: Pacing= halting. Very Obvious CLIMACTIC EVENT that seems sort of random followed by Very Obvious resolution= tedium beyond comprehension.
Anywoot. This just furthered my resolve that Elizabeth Gaskell is a lesser known Victorian not because she was unfairly overshadowed by Dickens and other men of the time: she is lesser known because she kind of sucks.
One star out of your mom.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I Equate Reading These With Being Burned at the Stake
Top Ten Tuesday is a heartily opinion-heavy meme hosted by The Broke and the Bookish and this week's theme is: Top Ten Books I'll NEVER EVER READ.
Now, I'm hesitant to say NEVER EVER because sometimes, I do crazy things I thought I would never do, like that time I dated my best friend's ex in high school. Or that time I had twins (now). Or that time I ate crab eggs on top of sushi (nast.y.). But as far as I can tell, I won't be reading these books anytime soon, or anytime I'm..in possession of my faculties.
1. The Trial by Franz Kafka. Maybe this is cheating, since I did start reading this book and couldn't get very far. From page one, I'm going...why don't you call the real police? Or move? So many solutions to this stupid problem! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS! And I'm sure that in my practicality I'm missing the point, but it's a purposeful missing of point. Because I don't care. Because the book is boring and frustrating.
2. Tropic of Cancer/Capricorn by Henry Miller. I won the first one in a giveaway on Roof Beam Reader, and I really intended to get into it. But I feel like this one probably crosses the line from Sexy Land to Silly Porno Land, and that's just not a land I wanna enter.
3. Twilight, et. al by Talentless Hacks. This one probably goes without saying, but just in case you folks out there think I'm getting soft- I still think this book and its ilk are the root of all literary evil. For a more humorous interpretation of why these books are the big suck, check out Alex Reads Twilight. Snarky British boy makes fun of the awful-ness that is bad, bad writing= win.
4. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. I have a weak stomach. I actually own this book, but the Barnes and Noble classics copy has a picture of a slab of meat on it, and every time I go to pick it up I get a little sick in the belly area. It's a situation where I KNOW I'm going to be grossed out big time, and I just don't want to go into a book with that foreknowledge. I'd rather read about sunshine and rainbows or...stuff that doesn't make me vomit. Ok, so maybe not sunshine and rainbows then.
5. The Hunger Games or Freedom- Wha? One of these is not like the other! Except both of them were so overly hyped that any intention I may have had to read either quickly drained out of me, sort of like my intentions to do laundry or my intentions to go to the gym. And now I just. Don't. Care.
6. Harry Potter Parts 2- 8,649 by Moneybags McGee. I read the first Harry Potter and it was fine. Obviously a rip off of all things C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, but it's hard not to be when writing children's fantasy. Flat characters, cheesy dialogue, awful cliches on every page. But the story was interesting and it was just fine. Fine is not enough to make me read the rest of the series so Ms. Initials can buy the Queen's mansion.
7. Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. Uh..who cares?
8. Anything by Jodi Picoult or Jennifer Whines-a-lot. I didn't really have anything against these two until Bitchy-gate happened after the release of Freedom. These two complaining that the NYT doesn't review their work is like me complaining that the Wall Street Journal doesn't come to me for financial advice. I mean, I'm not really into high melodrama or ladies-who-buy-shoes-and-find-men, so I wasn't interested to begin with. But now I've moved from "meh" to "you're effing annoying."
9. The Art of War by Sun Tzu. I want to be able to SAY that I've read it, and then be able to use my learnin' to whoop you in chess. But since no one I know will play chess with me, and also since I don't plan on going to war anytime soon, this one languishes on my shelf. Also, I gotta wonder- how smart is a guy who publishes his winning-war secrets? Doesn't that mean everyone else will be winning, too? Not good.
10. A Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell. You're not Proust. Learn to edit.
Es todo. Sooo what about you guys? Avoiding anything for life? Sworn off a Bronte recently?
Now, I'm hesitant to say NEVER EVER because sometimes, I do crazy things I thought I would never do, like that time I dated my best friend's ex in high school. Or that time I had twins (now). Or that time I ate crab eggs on top of sushi (nast.y.). But as far as I can tell, I won't be reading these books anytime soon, or anytime I'm..in possession of my faculties.
1. The Trial by Franz Kafka. Maybe this is cheating, since I did start reading this book and couldn't get very far. From page one, I'm going...why don't you call the real police? Or move? So many solutions to this stupid problem! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS! And I'm sure that in my practicality I'm missing the point, but it's a purposeful missing of point. Because I don't care. Because the book is boring and frustrating.
2. Tropic of Cancer/Capricorn by Henry Miller. I won the first one in a giveaway on Roof Beam Reader, and I really intended to get into it. But I feel like this one probably crosses the line from Sexy Land to Silly Porno Land, and that's just not a land I wanna enter.
3. Twilight, et. al by Talentless Hacks. This one probably goes without saying, but just in case you folks out there think I'm getting soft- I still think this book and its ilk are the root of all literary evil. For a more humorous interpretation of why these books are the big suck, check out Alex Reads Twilight. Snarky British boy makes fun of the awful-ness that is bad, bad writing= win.
4. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. I have a weak stomach. I actually own this book, but the Barnes and Noble classics copy has a picture of a slab of meat on it, and every time I go to pick it up I get a little sick in the belly area. It's a situation where I KNOW I'm going to be grossed out big time, and I just don't want to go into a book with that foreknowledge. I'd rather read about sunshine and rainbows or...stuff that doesn't make me vomit. Ok, so maybe not sunshine and rainbows then.
5. The Hunger Games or Freedom- Wha? One of these is not like the other! Except both of them were so overly hyped that any intention I may have had to read either quickly drained out of me, sort of like my intentions to do laundry or my intentions to go to the gym. And now I just. Don't. Care.
6. Harry Potter Parts 2- 8,649 by Moneybags McGee. I read the first Harry Potter and it was fine. Obviously a rip off of all things C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, but it's hard not to be when writing children's fantasy. Flat characters, cheesy dialogue, awful cliches on every page. But the story was interesting and it was just fine. Fine is not enough to make me read the rest of the series so Ms. Initials can buy the Queen's mansion.
7. Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. Uh..who cares?
8. Anything by Jodi Picoult or Jennifer Whines-a-lot. I didn't really have anything against these two until Bitchy-gate happened after the release of Freedom. These two complaining that the NYT doesn't review their work is like me complaining that the Wall Street Journal doesn't come to me for financial advice. I mean, I'm not really into high melodrama or ladies-who-buy-shoes-and-find-men, so I wasn't interested to begin with. But now I've moved from "meh" to "you're effing annoying."
9. The Art of War by Sun Tzu. I want to be able to SAY that I've read it, and then be able to use my learnin' to whoop you in chess. But since no one I know will play chess with me, and also since I don't plan on going to war anytime soon, this one languishes on my shelf. Also, I gotta wonder- how smart is a guy who publishes his winning-war secrets? Doesn't that mean everyone else will be winning, too? Not good.
10. A Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell. You're not Proust. Learn to edit.
Es todo. Sooo what about you guys? Avoiding anything for life? Sworn off a Bronte recently?
Monday, October 4, 2010
"Rebecca" by Daphne du Maurier: A Review
Rereading this book is the big suck. However, if you haven't read it before, it's fairly mandatory for living. A-lemme 'splain:
Rebecca is the most suspenseful book I've ever read ever ever. From page one, this eerie tension builds until you get to the end and have a mini-breakdown and realize you've bitten all your nails off and haven't cleaned the house for days. Mrs. Danvers is one of the creepiest creepsters that ever was creepy. And the main villain isn't even alive! Dead villain and nameless narrator= spooky.
However. Once you know SPOILER that Maxim doesn't love Rebecca and never did, and that she was actually super evil, and that maybe Maxim killed her maybe, the rereading becomes bleh. Instead of the narrator being a shy young thing that you feel sorry for, she just becomes cloying, cowardly, and irritating. She spends pages and pages hypothesizing about what the servants say about her behind her back, and being freaked out by Mrs. Danvers who, upon second reading, is really just a crotchety old woman.
The first time I read this book, I understood the narrator being afraid of Mrs. Danvers. This time around, I feel like the whole thing could have been avoided by one good "Mrs. Danvers, I'm sure that's how Rebecca did it but she's dead and I don't give two sh***, so why don't you shut the hell up and make me a sandwich." There's a big difference between being young, naive, and shy- and being a spineless idiot.
Also, the movie was better (the one with Laurence Olivier).
All that aside, this was just my REreading experience. The READING experience is sublime because you don't know what's going to happen and you're still sympathetic to Nameless Girl. So, read it if you haven't. If you have, watch the movie. Over and over.
Four stars out of your mom. Also, can I live in that house?
Rebecca is the most suspenseful book I've ever read ever ever. From page one, this eerie tension builds until you get to the end and have a mini-breakdown and realize you've bitten all your nails off and haven't cleaned the house for days. Mrs. Danvers is one of the creepiest creepsters that ever was creepy. And the main villain isn't even alive! Dead villain and nameless narrator= spooky.
However. Once you know SPOILER that Maxim doesn't love Rebecca and never did, and that she was actually super evil, and that maybe Maxim killed her maybe, the rereading becomes bleh. Instead of the narrator being a shy young thing that you feel sorry for, she just becomes cloying, cowardly, and irritating. She spends pages and pages hypothesizing about what the servants say about her behind her back, and being freaked out by Mrs. Danvers who, upon second reading, is really just a crotchety old woman.
The first time I read this book, I understood the narrator being afraid of Mrs. Danvers. This time around, I feel like the whole thing could have been avoided by one good "Mrs. Danvers, I'm sure that's how Rebecca did it but she's dead and I don't give two sh***, so why don't you shut the hell up and make me a sandwich." There's a big difference between being young, naive, and shy- and being a spineless idiot.
Also, the movie was better (the one with Laurence Olivier).
All that aside, this was just my REreading experience. The READING experience is sublime because you don't know what's going to happen and you're still sympathetic to Nameless Girl. So, read it if you haven't. If you have, watch the movie. Over and over.
Four stars out of your mom. Also, can I live in that house?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
