Banned Books Week 2016

Banned Books Week ends tomorrow, so I'm getting this in just under the wire. Let's talk about the central issue with banned books, that even tho there are books we'd all like to ban -- we don't do it. Come on, you know there are some books that just shouldn't exist, like Mein Kampf or anything "written" by the Kardashians (how can you write a book if you can't ... ? Never mind.). For you Trump haters, how about the Art of the Deal (of course, they say Trump didn't write that either)? How about right-wing conspiracy books? Left-wing conspiracy books? Books that deny the Holocaust and books that blame 9/11 on Israel (of course some blame 9/11 on Saudi Arabia, so which is it?)? How about books that glorify rape and abuse of women? How about Twilight? There are a lot of evil books out there. Outlaw them! But in fact we don't try to forbid them.

Let me tell you about something shameful. I once read a biography of one of my favorite authors. The author of the bio was so obviously eaten up with jealousy (why was she famous and successful and I'm not?) that every page dripped with envy, bitterness, and hate. If there was anyway to twist facts to put the subject in a bad light, she did. I feel sorry for the author of the bio. How horrible it must've been to write an entire book about someone she despised. Accordingly, it was a horrible read. I didn't even review it because I didn't want to give the book the attention and I hate writing bad reviews. When I was finished reading the book, I threw it away. I usually sell my read books or give them to charity; this one I didn't. I banned the book. Now only this one copy of the book, and because it's so bad I'm sure the charity shops and used-book stores are full of copies. I owned the book, it was my right to do what I wanted with my property. But no matter how many excuses I make, I denied anyone else the opportunity to read this book. It's the only time I did this thing, and I'm not proud of it. But I did, and I hope I wouldn't do it again, because it was wrong.

And that's my point: it's wrong to ban books. So even tho there are books we may well believe should never see the light of day, we don't proscribe them, because it's better that all the ideas be out there in the great debate, than we should lose any good ideas along with the ideas of which we disapprove. That's why we have Banned Books Week, to draw attention. We don't have to buy all the books, or talk about all the books, or agree with all the books, but we don't have them removed from our libraries and we don't picket or boycott book shops that sell books we don't like, and we don't burn books. Freedom of thought is too important. Bad ideas get to coexist with good ideas. And we support the banned books themselves, so go buy a banned book, check one out from the library, read a banned book for your own enjoyment. It doesn't have to be this week, it can be, should be, must be, any week of the year. Every week of the year should be Banned Books Week.

It Happened in Boston? by Russell H. Greenan (1968)

A brilliant if anachronistic artist begins to lose touch with this reality and determines to confront God.

Book Review: It Happened in Boston? embodies the beauty and necessity of used-book shops. This is the kind of book that will never make the best seller lists, will not stay long in print even when revived as here, but when accidentally discovered on a dusty shelf will make someone's day and may change their life. Originally published in 1968, this edition is part of the Modern Library's 20th Century Rediscovery series, with an introduction by novelist Jonathan Lethem (Motherless Brooklyn). He calls it a "magic spell of a book," among other gushing, and how right he is. At times I forgot I was reading a book, and felt I was in Boston with the characters, standing in a room, watching and listening to them talk. It sucked me in, took over my mind, bewitching. The plot is not the main point here. A struggling artist, a troubled marriage, friends with troubles, odd characters, betrayal, murder, art and more art, even more art, a troubled mind, and a need to confront God ("now I would like to ask Him some questions"). The artist goes through his daily routine, persecuted by pigeons, doubting his sanity ("well, maybe I am hopelessly mad"), wondering if others are mad, while entering other times and places. Betrayed, exploited, he stops painting, and becomes obsessed with getting to the bottom, or the Top, of all of life. Of course, "whom the gods would destroy, they first ... ." There is humor in It Happened in Boston? There's dark comedy, along with alternate realities and only a tenuous connection to this reality, but also human warmth and friendship. This is a lost masterpiece; Lethem calls It Happened in Boston? "a little masterpiece on the subject of the world's neglect of masterpieces!" If you're willing to enter the mind of madman, and go on a journey unlike any other, read this singular work, this unique and unusual book. Oddly, the only other novel I could even think of comparing it with is another unknown book like no other, also published in 1968, titled The Universal Baseball Association by Robert Coover. Both are sui generis and address God, reality, and its tangents. Check your library, scour used-book shops, do what you have to for this reading experience like no other. [5 Stars].

Nutshell by Ian McEwan (2016)

A poet's wife and brother, lovers, scheme against him, observed only by the poet's unborn son.

Book Review: Nutshell is a brilliant 197 pages. Ian McEwan is brilliant. Sure, there's some showing off, but when you can hurl lightning bolts, why wouldn't you? Here McEwan doesn't hold back and creates a tour de force, swings for the fences, goes on the high wire. Yes, it's a fetus telling the story: a knowledgeable, thoughtful, opinionated, philosophical unborn; if you can't get past that, why do you read? Verisimilitude is not the point here (see The Lovely Bones). For a bit I felt that I was reading a first novel, a young writer pouring a lifetime of experience onto the pages, with the daring of youth, trying to pack in every shred of talent he can. But as the story continued the elegiac tone led me in the other direction, and it seemed more like a last novel, a seasoned master of the form demonstrating his virtuoso skill, trying to say everything that ever needed to be said. Added to the compelling and concerning plot, literally, there are discourses on the topics of the day from climate change to immigration to terrorism. The writing is exceptional, clever, full of wordplay and observations: "God said, Let there be pain. And there was poetry. Eventually." At times the language had a touch of Dylan Thomas, reminding of "if my head hurt a hair's foot." You've probably already picked up on the Shakespearean plot (see the book's epigram), but there's also MacBeth, "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury," substituting "fetus" for idiot, but this fetus is no idiot (and adding a cat-killing Lady MacBeth). Nutshell seems almost like a play, all the action taking place on the single stage of one (large) house with only a few players. Most of the book is a monologue told by our unconventional narrator, unafraid to imagine those elements he cannot witness due to the confines of his perch. There is so much more I could say about Nutshell, a compelling thriller, mystery, meditation, commentary, but a better choice, if you're daring enough, is just to read it. As I finished, my first thought was to read it again, which is rare for me. But I will. [4.5 Stars]

FilmLit: The End of the Tour (2015)

David Foster Wallace and a reporter for Rolling Stone go on a road trip at the end of the Infinite Jest book tour during five days of interviews in 1996.

Film Review: Somehow I missed The End of the Tour when it was released, but I'm glad I found it on DVD. Jesse Eisenberg (The Social Network, Zombieland) is the reporter and Jason Segel (best known for the TV series How I Met Your Mother) is DFW. Most of the movie centers on the two and they both turn in excellent performances. Segel captures a consistent, credible, and convincing persona that made me believe he was the author. Eisenberg gives a torn and energetic portrayal of the heavily conflicted reporter. The movie is based on actual interviews by writer David Lipsky that were intended for a Rolling Stone article that never came off. After Wallace's death, Lipsky wrote a memoir of the road trip (Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself), which formed the basis for The End of the Tour. While watching the movie it seemed that much of the dialog must have come from the interview tapes (IMDb says no, one review says yes), but a disclaimer at the end of the film stated that some events were fictitious, so I may also have to read the memoir to get a fuller picture.

Lipsky comes off poorly in The End of the Tour, which creates the conflict in the film. He's seemingly using Wallace to get the story he wants, invading his life and privacy, flirting with Wallace's former girlfriend. Although he respects him as a writer, he's jealous of Wallace's success, the success he'd like to have as a writer, and jealous of Wallace even when the author simply chats with Lipksy's girlfriend on the phone, 1,000 miles away. He's eager to paint Wallace as a fraud, when the author actually appears nakedly vulnerable and honest. Reporters are scum.

Wallace is so alone, so isolated, so encapsulated, that even while he feels exposed and invaded, he enjoys his discussions with the reporter, opens up to him, shares his home, talks about hidden parts of his life and writing. The viewer watches Wallace, insecure tho brilliant, hungry for human contact but unable to achieve it because of his painful self-consciousness combined with his desire to be (or to be seen as) a good person doing the right thing. It's uncomfortable seeing Wallace watch and envy Lipsky's casual ability to interact, flirt, make small talk. The best part of the film for me was when the author reveals what makes him a writer, why he writes the way he does, reveals the products of his constant overthinking.

If you have any interest in David Foster Wallace or Infinite Jest, The End of the Tour is well worth watching. Even without that interest, Eisenberg and Segel still create a passionate character study of an ambitious writer who's now a reporter, and a troubled, confused author who may have just created the most important novel of our time. It has a 91% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and I enjoyed this greatly, both as a film, and for its portrayal of the writer.

FilmLit is Coming Soon!

Announcing a new feature that I'm just getting off the ground. I'm going to be adding reviews of certain movies to the blog, trying to keep things interesting, and I'm calling it FilmLit. Now, I'm not a movie reviewer and certainly not an expert on cinema, so perhaps calling these "reviews" may be exaggerating things a bit. I'm just a fan and I want to share some of my favorite movies about the world of writers, books, and literature. My goal is just to let you know about films I've seen and enjoyed that relate to books, authors, and the like. I'm not planning to talk much about movies that are simply book adaptations, such as The Martian, unless there's something else unusual or interesting about it. For instance, Love and Friendship, the recent movie adaptation of Jane Austen's Lady Susan, has enough story, trivia, and behind the scenes info about the transition from book to film to fit into the FilmLit bag. Actually, The Martian probably does as well. We'll see. So that's the plan; I just wanted to let you know about this sudden change in the space-time continuum. The posts may be a bit spoilery, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum, and they'll certainly have no more spoilers than your usual movie review. FilmLit posts will be intermittent, depending on when I find something I want to share, but I have some ideas already that you should be seeing soon. This should be fun.

Timeless by Gail Carriger (2012)

The fifth and final book in Gail Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series: Alexia and her posse go to Egypt.

Book Review: Timeless is more of the same, more werewolves, bustles, vampires, cravats, dirigibles, wee bairns, mummies, tea, comedy, and all the rest of the good steampunk fun you've seen in the previous four books. This time the Egyptian local color adds a touch of the exotic and an opportunity to delve into ancient mysteries. Alexia does not like coffee. If you've read the first four books you must read Timeless as well, or is that just me? Now that I've read all five, I look back at the series with three thoughts in mind. First, the books were all enjoyable, all pretty much of a piece. If you liked one you should like them all, there were no radical changes in quality, flavor, or feel. But second, Gail Carriger is always willing to go some place new both geographically and plotically, and the reader never knows quite where the story may go from there. Carriger is willing to turn expectations upside down. Raymond Chandler said that whenever he ran out of ideas, he'd just have someone come through the door with a gun; Carriger says, who is the most unlikely person to come through that door with a gun? Thinking outside the box is her stock in trade, but eventually that becomes the box. The reader says, "Ah, didn't see that coming. Well, of course." Surprises become less surprising. Third, what these books lacked for me was a story arc. The series didn't suffer from middle book syndrome as so many trilogies do (is this a pentalogy?), but beyond continuing characters and life events (you know, marriages, babies, and such like) there was no continuing mystery or quest that united the books. They were simply episodic. There were some ongoing questions about Alexia's father, but that was really more curious than compelling. I think if Carriger had added a plot line, a story arc, from Soulless through Timeless, it would have made for a stronger and perhaps more meaningful pentalogy, than the simply enjoyable and entertaining series that it was (not that there's anything wrong with that!). For those who wish to keep reading, some characters from the Parasol Protectorate series reappear in Carriger's new Custard Protocol series, beginning with Prudence. There's also the YA Finishing School series. Timeless was a worthy and companionable conclusion to this series, and it's comforting to know that more of Gail Carriger's world is available. [3 Stars]

End of Summer, End of Summaries

Oh, I really dislike book reviews with long summaries of the plot. Really, really do. Let me count the ways.

First, a lengthy plot outline sounds like someone trying to give a high school book report, fussing over "was it Marianne, or Miriam, no Marianne, or Minnie? In 1945?" So often the reviewer goes into a strange level of detail, none of which makes no never mind to the reader or listener. So often the reviewer gets the facts wrong anyway. Listening to someone giving a high school book report gives me the creeps. High school wasn't that great.

Second, I want to learn the plot as I read the book, not from reading or listening to a review. I want to go in blind as possible, and I find I enjoy books best when I have the fewest preconceptions. Maybe your summary has more spoilers than you think? I don't even read the blurbs on the back of books because I find them too spoilery.

Third, there are a dozen places to find a summary of the plot if I want one, I don't need you to do that for me. Many others have summarized all the books before, we don't need another plot outline. Especially for famous books, no summary needed! You don't need to outline Harry Potter, Twilight, Hunger Games, or Gone Girl for me. I've heard. Listening to several reviews just means several redundant plot summaries. Ouch. Overload.

Fourth, I want to know how the reviewer felt about the book, what emotions did it raise, was it accessible or difficult, does it relate to any other books, was it funny, deep, angry, confusing, quick? Was it a slow read? Is it the author's best? Worst? Different from her other works? Were the characters interesting, unlikable, realistic? Did you hate it, love it, meh it, and why? There's so much you can tell me about a book that's more interesting than the plot. What did you think?

Fifth, the creativity in book reviewing certainly doesn't come from a plot recital, it comes from some unique perspective that you and only you can provide. That's what I want, your individual take on it that I won't get from anyone else. What did it remind you of, what does it relate to, how did it touch you?

In my own reviews I try to limit my summary to a single line at the beginning, and only such plot elements as are necessary to give you a sense of the book, but always abbreviated. Sometimes probably too short, but as I mentioned, if you really want to know a book's plot ahead of time, there are plenty of places to find it.

So that's my rant, hope it made some kind of sense, thanks for listening. Nuff said.

Heartless by Gail Carriger (2011)

The fourth appearance of the indomitable Alexia Tarabotti Maccon and the Parasol Protectorate series.

Book Review: Although the stage in Heartless doesn't leave the Victorian environs of London and Alexia is heavily gravid throughout, it may be the most action-packed installment yet. Bigger roles for Professor Lyall, Felicity, and ghosts, and the appearance of deadly porcupines give the story more variety, and women's suffrage even makes a brief appearance. Both Ivy and Alexia separately go undercover, and the English capital suffers significant damage. Additionally, the pseudonymous Gail Carriger seems to have done research to provide Heartless with more local and temporal color, so if you enjoyed the previous iterations, this should tickle your funny bone as well. It's still steampunk, humor, mystery, vampires, bustles, tea, aristocrats, and werewolves. By the end much of the social order has been turned upside down and much is left unresolved (tho Carriger's obsession with a well-tied cravat remains the same as ever). Even so, little has changed and Heartless is another enjoyable, fun, and entertaining episode in the Parasol Protectorate (now formally named) series. Timeless is the next and final book in the series; I'm on page two. [3 Stars]

In the Woods by Tana French (2007)

The first in Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad franchise; a young girl is found murdered near Dublin, echoing the disappearance of two children there 20 years before, which involved one of the Squad members.

Book Review: In the Woods is a debut novel, a mystery, and has no right to be so good. If you want a warm, cozy, comfortable, mystery with a fully resolved and happy ending, this is not your book. It's not one of those cinematic novels coasting along a visual surface, rather it goes deep into hearts and minds and rough, painful emotional depths. At the end I hurt, too. This also is not a hard-boiled detective story, you'll know and care about these characters. Tana French invests her words with great weight: at the victim's autopsy a detective thinks, "she was so small." I got chills. The detectives dissect the smallest facial twitches, searching for clues to solve the murder, and to solve the tensions between them. Although more character- than plot-driven, there is still a mystery that drives the story along, and at one point I could not put the book down, reading well into the morning from the other side of the night. In the Woods has chilling, gothic elements that I didn't expect, but brought a twisted and disturbing side to the story. French also includes (small) touches of humor, and an underlying theme of rich versus poor, government versus citizenry; interesting how the government seems more like an occupying force than a representative of the people. I enjoyed In the Woods, Tana French is an impressive writer, this is an impressive book, and I'll be reading the next installment in the series, The Likeness, but maybe something a little lighter first. [4 Stars]

Maestra by L.S. Hilton (2016)

Judith, an amoral young woman will do anything for money except, after being sacked, get a job.

Book Review: Maestra is the effort by L.S. (Lisa) Hilton to write a new, but more upscale and fatal version of 50 Shades of Grey, a book for our times. It ends up being the literary equivalent of a glossy fashion magazine edited by Dan Brown, if Brown was only interested in clothing, art, money, travel, homicide, shopping, food, and sex, in that order. Sidney Sheldon, Jackie Collins, and the Financial Times are other names that come to mind. Anything is acceptable in the pursuit of money; sex is an afterthought. Narcissism is the new religion; greed is good. Judith is willing to pay 1000 Euros for sex and a little light S&M, but then shoplifts from a small shop. There really isn't that much sex (tho Hilton is aiming for erotica, perhaps porn, and this is an adult book), and what occurs is meant more to shock than stimulate, but to each her own. Love is a foreign country, friendship is a distant shore. The most interesting relationship in Maestra is entirely asexual. According to Lisa Hilton (or is that Paris?), our beautiful heroine's motivation is "rage," but actually it's only greed and self-satisfaction. The death of three or more innocents, her best friend losing his job, none of these deter our heroine. In Judith's world, "no lives matter," and being irksome is punishable by death. It's readable, tho not overly well-written (forget reasonable or plausible); only stubbornness kept me from DNFing. If you enjoy glossy fashion magazines, descriptions of posh clothes, fancy food, exotic locales, and Eurotrash without any pesky morality, logic, or human interaction, Maestra is the book for you. Since this has already been announced as a trilogy, you know how it ends. [2 Stars]

You by Caroline Kepnes (2014)

Joe, a bookstore clerk, will do anything to win the love of his obsession.

Book Review: You wasn't bad. I didn't hate it. But everyone loved this more than I did. Maybe it's just me, maybe I had a headache, maybe I shouldn't have read You after reading Room. Maybe I don't find stalkers all that funny. For me the first half was painfully slow going, predictable, I didn't buy into the characters, they seemed unreal, almost comic book or just over the top. In the second half the story picked up, the characters became more believable, and I started to speculate where the plot was going. Still, I don't get why so many people are enamored with our narrator Joe, the murderous stalker. There was a lot of detailed social media hacking going on, which gave You a contemporary take on the traditional stalking story, and Joe's cyber stalking talents may make him seem cool. The narrator also suffers from class rage, and repeatedly rants about the hipster, richie, yuppie scum (who all deserve to die) he encounters while stalking his prey. He also has a sarcastic, gimlet-eyed sense of humor, but since much of the humor seemed obvious it didn't hit my funny bone. You reminded me of some distant cousin of Dexter, but without the charm or sense of mission, maybe Dexter-lite. Which led me to conclude that we like Dexter because he's handsome, charming, and only kills bad guys; he's what we want our serial killers to be. And Joe is what we want our stalkers to be. He mostly only kills rich, white people. He's funny, bookish, romantic, and in love, like an awkward, overeager but unfortunately homicidal boyfriend, instead of a real stalker driven by rage, power, and control determined to force his victim into a life of fear. Of course, they both kill and rape. But all is forgiven so long as you're funny, quirky, and clever. And You comes in a nice acceptable package. Caroline Kepnes can write, the writing was fine, the tone was consistent, but You just didn't work for me beyond the average thriller stalker novel. As you can see from the ratings, however, I'm in the minority on this one and the masses, everyone and their cousin, have roared their approval. [2.5 Stars]

Room by Emma Donoghue (2010)

A five-year-old boy and his young mother live in a small room, which is the only world he's ever known. {Spoilers below!}

Book Review: Room is a difficult book to discuss without spoilers, so this will be a discussion with spoilers. Sorry. I only knew a little about the book before I read it, which added to my enjoyment. Of course now, with the popularity of the book and movie, it's going to be hard for future readers not to be spoiled somewhat. The basic story is that a young woman is kidnapped by a rapist and held prisoner in a small, sound-proofed garden shed, where she gives birth to her son. Room is told from the point of view of the precocious five-year-old boy, Jack, with all the insights and limitations resulting from that. He has only ever spoken with his mother ("Ma"), and so has an almost adult vocabulary, but he also has the speech deficits that a mother would tolerate. Jack has only ever lived in this one room and everything, including the few inanimate objects such as a table or a rug, are personalized and humanized. Irish writer Emma Donoghue has completely captured the tone of Jack, Ma, and Room, and the strength of this voice propels the story and the reader through the whole of the book. I truly felt like I was living in that room with Jack; I began to feel as tho every object and every bit of food was precious, and my world was 11 feet square. Claustrophobic. The story and tone was credible and compelling; it felt so realistic it began to creep into my mind. The book is divided in halves: before and after the rescue. How Jack escapes the room is problematic on a couple levels, but I think Ma hoped Jack would get out earlier than he did, when there would have been more people around on the street, and she knew Jack was more than an average five-year-old. The attempt also showed her absolute desperation, her willingness to risk anything to escape the room for several reasons, not the least that Jack is getting older and his life will be in danger. I found the first half of Room more engaging than the second, but there was still plenty in the slower second half of the book to keep me reading. I think readers might prefer either of the two halves of the story. The story of life after the rescue was again quite believable tho more subtle. The emotions and stress (everything is not suddenly perfect after the rescue) involved in adjusting to life after the room let's us see our everyday world anew, through Jack's eyes. Even in the abundant outside world, every little thing (a leaf, a bee) is magical to Jack. We learn that Ma's name is Sharon, and although Jack is the narrator and we see everything from his point of view, I think that made Sharon's story even stronger. We read Jack's words reflecting his limited understanding of what is going on in the room (and afterwards), but we as omniscient readers understand more, and that makes Sharon's suffering even more resonant, because we read the full measure of pain, misery, and victimization into the story, but we also see her struggle, her strength, resilience, and determination to overcome the prison in ways that Jack cannot. Even one of the creepy aspects of Room, the nursing, worked to show the bonds between Jack and Ma, their individual needs, nourishment on other levels. The ending surprised me, but was just as it should have been. Emma Donoghue has written a very quick read, a kind of thriller, one you may be unable to put down. I read it in two or three sittings. Room is a tour de force, by which I mean the author has taken a specific focus, a limited scope, and made it into something much bigger and more powerful. Room is a solid and successful story, well done, and a great read. [4 Stars]

Blameless by Gail Carriger (2010)

Not only is her life in danger, but Alexia is being shamed by London society; accordingly, she (with Floote, and Madame Lefoux) travels to France and Italy in this third installment of Gail Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series.

Book Review: Blameless is good fluffy fun, the romance still decreasing, the steampunk still increasing, this volume of the comedic mystery thriller series seems even more sedate than the previous two iterations (if you're reading this, I gotta assume you've read at least one of the two previous works). Even when violence and danger are swirling, Carriger moves the the story along deliberately with no sense of panic, just right for Victorian England (and with another cameo here by the Queen, herself). Although I found this less compelling than Soulless and Changeless, it still kept me reading, even through the slower moments. Blameless is still very English: "'It would be terribly arrogant of us British to think England was the first and only progressive society.'" Carriger's humor is still rich (whack-a-mole makes an appearance!) and Alexia is still Alexia despite a death sentence on her head: "Should her future permit it, she would spend the rest of her days relaxed in an armchair in a library somewhere. Adventuring was highly overrated." And the term "Parasol Protectorate" makes its first appearance; I'll let you guess who coins it. Blameless is still enjoyable entertainment, even with beach season reaching its end in the northern hemisphere. My intention is to finish the next two installments (Heartless and Timeless) in Gail Carriger's series soon. I've got to know how it all ends! [3 Stars]