I enjoyed the story. I did not enjoy the style. And I think this novel is perfect for a discussion about the value of story and substance versus styleI enjoyed the story. I did not enjoy the style. And I think this novel is perfect for a discussion about the value of story and substance versus style.
This is a tale of a native legend come to life to exact revenge on four members of the Blackfeet tribe. It is intriguing, chilling, and at some points, gruesome. The way the paranormal entity gradually enters our world and stalks its victims was fascinating, as were the themes of man versus nature, the natural order and balance therein, and the long-reaching consequences of trespassing against what is good and right. The mind-games, visions, and eventual visceral terror made this a great tale of horror with much tension and tragedy. The story is what kept me reading.
The style, however, was all over the goddamn place. Technically written in third-person omnipotent, the narrative sometimes abruptly switched to second-person with no real priming or break to signify a change, and often wandered into a colloquial or stream-of-consciousness style that really only works in first-person perspective. Imposing this on third-person narrative caused the prose to buckle and sometimes hit a wall. The result often felt like a square peg being forced into a circle hole, crippling the momentum of the storytelling (There were some spots that used "like" colloquially so much, it felt like a valley-girl was suddenly talking). I've seen some excuses for this, saying SGJ was being "experimental". Okay, I'll bite. But "experimental" doesn't automatically mean "good". If this novel had stuck with third-person, or had been rewritten in various first-persons, I think SGJ would have knocked it out of the park.
I've said this before, but I'm getting real tired of the "up-sell" at this point. The current publishing industry has a real problem hailing mediocrity as "magnificence". Stephen Graham Jones is much more than a mediocre author, and his talent absolutely shines in spots, but the accolades and endorsements this novel received led me to believe I'd be reading something truly incredible. And although The Only Good Indians definitely has some magnificent moments, I didn't feel it added up to the overall hype....more
A solid three stars. Like most Elmore Leonard novels, the dialogue was great, the story was quite slick, and the writing was pro. With a quick pace, aA solid three stars. Like most Elmore Leonard novels, the dialogue was great, the story was quite slick, and the writing was pro. With a quick pace, and a low page count, you'll get through this novel in a few sittings.
Personally, I thought the novel started off better than it ended. The early part taking place in Africa had my all of my attention; the setting, the predicament, the tension, all of which I found riveting. When the story and main character migrated to Detroit, I found the tale becoming a more run-of-the-mill crime caper that didn't have the same pressure and profundity as the first act. In fact, I often wished the story had stayed where it started....more
Denis Johnson wrote one of my favourite novels of all time: Jesus's Son. Since then I've read other books of his, trying to find that magic again; theDenis Johnson wrote one of my favourite novels of all time: Jesus's Son. Since then I've read other books of his, trying to find that magic again; the poignancy mixed with the poetry, the mastery and mystery behind his written words. I have come across it, but not in the same supply or force as found in that one particular masterpiece.
Johnson's first novel 'Angels' definitely possesses his signature talent here and there. It follows the ill-advised journey of Jamie, a woman who has left her husband with two children in tow. She has the misfortune of running into (and shacking up with) Bill; a man with questionable ethics and loose morals, but someone just as lost in America as she is. Together they embark on a downward spiral into drugs, drinking, crime, and the penalties people incur when they don't know when to stop.
The story packs a punch in places, and takes the reader on a wild and tragic ride, but it is generally less controlled, less compelling, and more meandering that I was expecting. Johnson is a powerful writer all right, and this story was enough of a vehicle for what he wanted to say, but his first time out had some engine troubles and spun its wheels enough for me to give it three stars....more
Guess what? You're beloved author of children's books was also an adult with an adult's mind; a mind that enjoyed delving into stories of sexual deviaGuess what? You're beloved author of children's books was also an adult with an adult's mind; a mind that enjoyed delving into stories of sexual deviance and sinister intrigue. Knowing what a talented writer Roald can be, I dove into this collection of short stories eager to plumb the depths of Dahl's dark side.
What I discovered, however, was a bit mild. While these stories might have caused women to clutch their pearls and men to adjust their crotch once upon a time, some of it is quite tame by today's standards. The subject matter of each story, malevolent or mischievous it may be, has clear boundaries which stop it from being actually shocking. The twists are of no great surprise, and the sex always stops at the 1960s standard of foreplay, though the implications (if not blatant suggestions) in the narrative can occasionally be quite ghastly.
Understandable, of course, as time is often not good to art, and art that stands the test of time is a rare and precious thing. 'Switch Bitch' is no such book. But it does have it's moments, and if you can place yourself in a bit of a time capsule, it can be quite a romp, sometimes unsettlingly so.
Three stars for showing a more sinister/deviant side of Roald Dahl, but with some shortcomings. In all honesty, I think I preferred his children's books. They seem to stand the test of time better....more
'The Devil in the White City' contains what the title implies, but not in equal amounts. I, like most people I reckon, picked the book up to read abou'The Devil in the White City' contains what the title implies, but not in equal amounts. I, like most people I reckon, picked the book up to read about one of America's earliest and most prolific serial killers: H.H. Holmes. What it turned out to be was a story focused much more on a Chicago architect/elite named Daniel Burnham and his circle of associates. The plot structure alternates between Burnham and Holmes, a creator and a destroyer, two men who never meet or have anything to do with one another, with the World's Fair serving as a backdrop to their own stories. The juxtaposition of these two characters and their polar-opposite passions makes for an interesting premise that becomes less engaging when you actually delve into the pages. 'The Devil in the White City' proves to be lopsided, with a lot dedicated to the "White City", and a lot less allotted to "The Devil".
This book is actually about the city of Chicago and it's influential architects/leaders around the time of the city's undertaking to host The World's Fair before the turn of the 20th century. I mean, sure, the serial killer was in there. Every 2-3 chapters an often decidedly short section would be dedicated to him and his murderous exploits to keep your morbid curiosity invested, but it never amounted to much more than a side story, and not much of a chilling one at that despite the subject matter. I don't know how Erik Larson managed to suck the fear factor of Holmes numerous killings, but I suspect it has to do with his more clinical non-fiction writing style. As a result I found very little of it frightening.
If you have any interest in the history of Chicago or the 1893 World's Fair, you'll find plenty to enjoy in this book. However, if you're like me, a person who has little interest in either, you'll still learn some stuff, read a number of passages that will raise your eyebrows, but largely feel like you're grinding through the Burnham chapters in order to get to the Holmes chapters. And when you get to those chapters, they can be a bit of a letdown. I'm all for authors leaving stuff to the reader's imagination, but Larson leaves a lot to be desired.
As a result, The Devil In The White City gets a solid three stars from me. It's decent, no doubt about that. The writing is very good, it's meticulously researched, and the story moves at a good click. It's filled with history, interesting tidbits, and touches on the black soul of a demented killer we would all love to know more about. But there are books you just can't put down, and this definitely isn't one of them. At no point was I ever engrossed by its dutiful content or glued to its many pages....more
My thoughts on this book boil down to issues of reliability. 'Based on a True Story' is an unreliable book, and Norm Macdonald is a unreliable narratoMy thoughts on this book boil down to issues of reliability. 'Based on a True Story' is an unreliable book, and Norm Macdonald is a unreliable narrator. Those things don't equate a failing, but in context they might not spell success either.
I dig Norm Macdonald, not gonna lie. I've always liked his deadpan deliveries, his don't-give-a-shit schticks, and his knowing smirk that follows the jokes that land (and the ones that fail to). But the Normie I know and love from TV doesn't translate that well to the page for two reasons. 1) Norm's comedy owes a lot to a visual component, and 2) The unreliable narrator doesn't work very well when it comes to an autobiography.
Unreliable narrators can be excellent storytelling vehicles in works of fiction, and to be honest, a good portion of this "autobiography" is fiction. Some of it is also true stories too, no doubt. The problem is that you can't always tell which is which... which shouldn't necessarily matter, except it kinda does when you want the biographical truth about a celebrity's life, experiences, trials and tribulations.
When 'Based on a True Story' is good, it's good. It's a quick read and holds your attention often enough. You'll get some laughs, and you'll even be moved by some of the more compelling (if not dark) stories. However, since you can never be absolutely sure which stories are true or false, they all lose their impact overall....more
Quite a good read. However, my overall feelings about the book and author are considerably complicated for an array of reasons.
'Consequence' is the trQuite a good read. However, my overall feelings about the book and author are considerably complicated for an array of reasons.
'Consequence' is the true story of Eric Fair's experiences in Iraq working as a private military contractor, or more specifically, an interrogator. The book spans his life, starting with being raised in small town America, moving on to his college days, and then focusing on several ways he served his country. All the while it explores his relationship with family, friends, church, the army, and the corporate side of war.
Eric sees three paths open to him; the police force, the military, and the Presbyterian ministry. At different times in his life he tries to pursue all three and succeeds/fails on varying aspects to varying degrees. Every time he walks in a certain direction he covers considerable distance, but eventually returns with stories that are less than triumphant; poignant and sometimes insightful though they are. His police career is cut unexpectedly short, his army career fails to find traction, his contractor-interrogator job gradually turns into acts of torture (for both him and others), and his pursuit of priesthood is crippled by his constant grappling with the past.
What we get from Mister Fair is a lot of commentary and introspection on what he felt he became and what America as a country is becoming. At times it gets preachy, and it toes the line of some fairly typical and predictable rhetoric. Understandable and forgivable, given the personal experience, but also stale to an extent; we've heard most of this before regardless of how emotionally charged it is. At times it fails to meet the needs of close examination, and instead we get commentary steeped in anger and sadness, unable to come to terms with the complexities of modern warfare and the fallibility/violence of the human species. At certain points it smacks of idealism colliding with cold reality. Should a man who has been involved in war have to inspect his actions logically and hold back his right to be upset? Not at all, but if you're letting your emotions get the best of you on the battlefield (literally or figuratively), maybe you're in the wrong business.
And that's the one thing that bothered me throughout the whole book. To me, at least, it was obvious that Eric Fair was not cut out to be a police officer, or a soldier, or a minister. He was choosing paths in life that had little or nothing to do with his character, strength, mindset, and attitude. All three of those careers require that the participant be made of some pretty tough stuff, the right stuff, stuff that I felt Mister Fair did not possess. In many cases, people who take on challenging jobs they eventually can't deal with are fired, discharged, denied continuation, asked to resign, or pack it all in themselves. In Eric Fair's case, he stayed on. Then he wrote a book.
As a result I felt I was being told a war story by a man who probably shouldn't been there in the first place. And as a consequence, it tended to taint what was being told....more
John Darnielle is a good writer. He's got a fine imagination that sets up a hell of a premise for a book. And by the time you've finished that book, JJohn Darnielle is a good writer. He's got a fine imagination that sets up a hell of a premise for a book. And by the time you've finished that book, John Darnielle might have also disappointed you quite a bit.
The idea behind 'Universal Harvester' is fantastic. A young man working as a clerk at a small town video store in the 90s lives a quiet, and maybe stunted, life in middle America. A tragedy dominates his past, resulting in guarded and uneventful days gone by. Everything begins to change when customers start returning to the store complaining that there is something wrong with the VHS tapes they have rented. Someone has been splicing snippets of home movies into the feature films. When the clerk begins reviewing the tapes to see what's wrong, he is met with strange images that are haunting, confusing, and sometimes violent. When a small cast of local characters become involved in this mystery for their own personal reasons, the search is on to find who is making these discomforting films and why. And as a reader, you can't wait to get on this ride.
But whatever direction you think this ride might go, I'll wager it is nowhere near where you thought it was heading. This is both a blessing and a curse; it subverts expectations, but not necessarily in the way of any betterment. Darnielle takes a concept that would suit an excellent thriller (even a highbrow one) and sort of wastes it on an exercise in comparatively uneventful literary writing. Yes, it asks some important questions about people's lives intersecting through the passage of broken hearts; past, present, and future. But it fails to pan out in any fashion resembling the initial excitement it stirs up. The thing is, Darnielle's writing is so good that it keeps hooking you and reeling you in, but by the time you're dragged to the boat the barb slips out of your lip and you find yourself drifting away in a kind of indifferent disappointment.
For as good as the writing is, there is a fair amount of unnecessary exposition going on too. Lots to learn about small towns in Iowa, and the people who populate them. All too often this narrative seems boring, yet you can't help feeling it must be building up to something important. However, it never compares to the awesomeness you were trying to picture in your head, but couldn't. One could argue that these tedious descriptions of time and place add to the atmosphere and story. Sure, I'll bite. But I can't deny that chewing on it for so many pages leaves a bland taste in my mouth. What seems like a straight shot to a bull's eye of a plot at the beginning, turns into a far more meandering case of confusing affairs by the end.
This could be a case of the writer losing the plot. Or, more likely, this is a case of an author telling a story you end up caring less and less about. It is rare that I read a book so intriguing, well written, and ultimately underwhelming. Still, there is clear value in reading John Darnielle's 'Universal Harvester'.
That value will certainly change from reader to reader, however....more
The conclusion to 'The Silence Of The Lambs' left the door wide open for the novel's villain, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The world was his oyster and manThe conclusion to 'The Silence Of The Lambs' left the door wide open for the novel's villain, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The world was his oyster and many of it's inhabitants a potential seafood platter. A lot of readers would have been quite happy to leave it there, but there was much that could still be mined from the depths of one of literature's darkest, and most complex, hearts. The "Cannibal" was on the loose. Where would he go? What would he do? Who else might fall under this charming killer's spell, and subsequently his knife?
Though its predecessors (Red Dragon' and 'The Silence Of The Lambs') were superior, 'Hannibal' still packs a punch. Thomas Harris has a gift for villains, and his third installment is no exception. Although Hannibal himself has gone from antagonist to protagonist in this novel, his new nemesis Mason Verger is a considerable creep-show all of his own. A man of considerable wealth and power, Verger crossed paths with Lecter in the past... and lets just say he's unable to "save face" because of it. As a result, what is left of his life is dedicated to a carefully planned scheme of revenge.
Clarice Starling, protagonist from 'The Silence Of The Lambs', is back in the mix (as are several supporting characters from that book), looking for Lecter while dealing with the subversive problems and politics of working as female agent in the FBI. The manhunt for the cannibal has gone international, and Hannibal seems to be playing a game of cat and mouse with his pursuers to some extent. His true intentions could be contradictory to what we've come to believe is his true nature, but the game is afoot and severed body parts will play a meaty role.
'Hannibal' retains much of Harris's signature creepiness and unsettling insight to the lives of those who are quite inclined to deprive others of theirs. Although we learn much more about the fantastic serial killer that could not be figured out by psychiatry's finest, it is worth asking whether making Hannibal the "hero" in this book was a good idea or not. Getting to know the man more intimately certainly sacrifices some of the mystery and menace previously surrounding him. The novel is also not as solid as the books that came before it, moving at a slower pace with some unnecessary amounts of narrative. As a result, 'Hannibal' is a welcome enough edition to the series, though a weaker one. There is little doubt that the ending will split audience opinion as well. ...more
Welcome to this fourth collection of spine-tingling stories, an assortment appalling acts, some truly terrible tales told by the awful occupants of the hideous haunt!
Who remembers their first encounter with The Haunt of Fear? At some point almost everyone has stumbled over these old penny dreadfuls raised to the price of a dime. Despite being created in the 1950s, these creepy comics have skulked around for decades, discovered and rediscovered at garage sales and flea markets, presented in bookstores as reissues, beckoning young readers to experience a darker side of comic books away from costumed superheroes and run-of-the-mill villains.
Three decrepit hosts would lure young readers through an assortment of short stories drawn with skills that set the bar high. The Old Witch, the Vault-Keeper, and the Crypt-Keeper acted as guides for a great many youngsters into a world of maniacs and monsters spilling blood and guts.
The Haunt of Fear earned its rightful place in the pantheon of horror, as recognizable a name as The Twilight Zone and Stephen King. The effect it had on entertainment and culture cannot be overstated. The horror genre was new ground for comics at the time of its inception, and the influence of these stories carries on today. A great many books, films, and TV series were built on the foundations laid by The Haunt of Fear, as well as plenty of spin-offs and imitators on the comic book front. From thrilling short story collections by innumerable authors, to movies like Creepshow and Tales from the Dark Side, to television such as Tales from the Crypt and Black Mirror, almost every short-form design can trace its roots back to the style and substance of this classic horror comic.
Kicking off the book is an introduction by Grant Geissman that is as interesting as it is informative, supplying us with the story of the comic’s creation and subsequent rise to fame. Of equal intrigue is the foreword by Rob Zombie, who recounts his first discovery of The Haunt of Fear as a young boy. He describes the powerful and almost forbidden magnetism of the art and stories, something that greatly influenced him to become the music/filmmaker he is today.
Making up the collection are issues #19–24 of The Haunt of Fear, presented in digitally remastered color. Each issue features five tales told in comic form, plus a short story, and finally a column featuring letters written by fans and answered by The Old Witch.
You get 24 scary stories with some additional content, not a bad deal for a trip down memory lane! As nostalgic as it all is, however, the collection also proves how bad the material could be too at times (occasionally laughably so). The three old crones’ groan-worthy puns, atrocious alliteration, and cheesy jokes littering the intros and outros are one thing, but the stories themselves sometimes leave a lot to be desired.
Readers are led by the hand all too often, characters’ dialogue leaving little to the imagination. Most endings can be guessed long before anyone reaches the halfway point. In contrast, sometimes plot developments or revelations come out of nowhere with no setup or logic, leaving readers with a raised eyebrow or creased forehead.
A good number of stories rely heavily (often directly) on the standard-setting predecessors of long ago. Attempts to put new spins on old stories are frequent; Jekyll & Hyde, Bluebeard, Grimm’s fairy tales, the works of Edgar Allen Poe, as well an assortment of vampire and werewolf lore. There is no question how outdated it all is, and many of these tales don’t hold up today. It’s something nobody probably noticed when they were young and impressionable, but we become painfully aware of it now as adults looking back.
But The Haunt of Fear had its place and time, making a hell of an impact when it was fresh and unsettling. Best to remember it that way and enjoy these old offerings as a time capsule filled with the stuff of 1950s nightmares, the kind of comics that kept the nightlights on and made children check under their beds....more
If you're looking for a quick, entertaining left-field read that will supply you with the odd chuckle and occasional grin, then 'Squirrel Seeks ChipmuIf you're looking for a quick, entertaining left-field read that will supply you with the odd chuckle and occasional grin, then 'Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk' will satisfy.
Sedaris is a damn good writer. He takes the common (and occasionally not-so-common) animal and puts them in a variety of human-esque predicaments that still greatly adhere to the laws of the animal kingdom. It can be sweet and funny one moment, or surprisingly cruel and brutal at other times. Various animal characters have conversations, arguments, and heartfelt moments. Sometimes it's surface level, sometimes it's deep and insightful, and sometimes they dispense with words entirely and just tear each other apart (literally).
For an extra bonus, listen to the audio book featuring the voice talents of Elaine Stritch, Dylan Baker, Sian Phillips, and David Sedaris. Makes for some fun storytelling.
There’s a lot going on in White Tears . . . maybe too much.
The story starts off well. Two young white men meet in college and make a strong, but unlikely, connection through their shared love of music. Seth, from whose perspective the story is mostly told, is the low income antisocial kid who proves to be great at making equipment and recording with it, but little else. Carter, a charming and handsome trust-fund kid, fancies himself a connoisseur focusing on African American music, the older the better. With Seth’s studio talents hitched to Carter’s money and music tastes, the pair embarks on a journey to create sonic art in New York City.
Seth spends his time walking around NYC with a hidden microphone/recorder, capturing busker performances and sampling the sounds of the street. Carter indulges in record collecting, searching out B-sides and rarities that the pair can mix into their productions. As they immerse themselves more in the music world, Seth becomes more focused, and Carter becomes more obsessed. They make a mock-up of an old blues song and credit it to a mystery musician that Carter invents named Charlie Shaw. Then they put the tune on the Internet and watch it disseminate, fooling every listener into thinking their song is a long lost gem from the South. For all the positive attention they receive, some bad hoodoo starts coming their way as well.
An old record collector claims Charlie Shaw is real and that the pair has unearthed a great danger. When they contact the elderly man and investigate his claims, tragedy soon strikes and a dark downward spiral into America’s music history begins, one where abuse and theft ran rampant and the rightful futures of genius black artists were denied by racial barriers and widespread bigotry.
White Tears is definitely a book of two halves. The first half is enjoyable; great character building for the two mains, plus an exploration of the themes of wealth, privilege, class systems, and cultural appropriation.
However, midway through the novel changes gears and the second half suddenly becomes a vehicle for a paranormal-esque thriller/horror tale of revenge that hasn’t been primed properly by the first half. As a result it often doesn’t work very well. There is a shifting of perspectives as well as a shifting of time and place to try and achieve an unsettling back-story that parallels parts of the main story. Instead of tumultuous and disjointed, it comes off confusing and incomprehensive.
Within this pinball mechanism of a plot, the novel ricochets toward an end most readers won’t see coming, but that has more to do with increasing incoherence and sudden revelations that come very late in the game. Our suspension of disbelief is sorely tested by weak plotting and messy mechanics.
Furthermore, on the surface it might seem that Kunzru has done his homework, but it becomes apparent that he has never been immersed in music to the degree that he should be writing so in depth about it. People in the music business will sense and spot faults in this novel; the weak grasp of audio engineering, incessant name-dropping, and what amounts to a scratching of the surfaces of studio, music, and production work. There are some interesting ideas, such as radio pioneer Guglielmo Marconi's theory that sound never actually dies (instead continuing on indefinitely, becoming forever quieter and drowned out by newer sounds), but it isn’t enough to keep the idea behind Charlie Shaw’s revenge afloat.
There’s no denying that Kunzru can write. His prose has great flow, and the pace of his storytelling has a compelling urgency. Dialogue is mostly on the strong side, and he tackles some tough questions (and even harder answers). But the delivery of his message is heavy-handed and often poorly executed.
That being said, this book will receive much positive attention due to the author's pedigree and for taking on the tender subject matter of American cultural appropriation and racism, but the fact remains that this novel staggered under the weight of its own ambitions, and the narrative suffered from its own intentional confusion. When all is said and done, White Tears is a great book to get into . . . but not such a good one to get out of....more
Adaptations of classics can be tricky things. Television and film often come up against the usual suspects: problems with length, translation, or the fact that some novels don’t lend themselves well to other art forms. Whether a reinterpretation or a stickler for source material, updated versions of literature’s great works have their work cut out for them. Christophe Chaboute’s graphic novel of Herman Melville’s masterpiece Moby Dick is no different, though it makes a valiant effort and harpoons a good deal of the targets set before it.
Chaboute’s version follows Melville’s book closely, particularly in spirit. This is no small feat as narrative is almost nonexistent and dialogue dominates the pages. He effectively says more with less, letting his pictures paint thousands of words. Drawn in a stark pen and ink pared-down style, the work has a throwback vibe that works well in the context of a classic. It’s got a sharp edge and bleak tone to it, helping to render characters as the hard seafaring men they are, as well as showing the relentless pursuit of Moby Dick as the cold, calculated, vengeful act it is.
The panels are often tilted, giving a superb off-balance sense of life aboard an old sailing ship on the open ocean. Chaboute often speaks only in silhouettes to great effect. The black and white also recalls a time and era when people thought much more in terms of such. Captain Ahab’s madness and single-mindedness of purpose are reflected commendably, as well as the alternating loyalty and increasing worry of his men aboard the Pequod. The tale of the great white whale moves at a good pace in this form, granting a fair amount of valuable insight to a sailor’s lonely life as well as the savagery, courage, and often misguided heroism of whaling in its early days.
This graphic novel was not without a few faults, however. Right off the bat, the introduction written by John Arcudi is a bit presumptuous. The heaps of praise and endorsement are to be expected, but there are some substantial claims made before a reader has even got to the first official page. Arcudi takes great pains to insinuate (if not downright tell us) what we should think of the book before judging for ourselves. By the finale of this version of Moby Dick it seems obvious he was off the mark on a couple things. As the introduction is the first thing read, it proves to be a slight turn off going in, while also setting the bar a little higher than appropriate. The expectations set are not entirely met.
The minimalist artistic style of Chaboute has its merits, but at times one can’t help but think that Moby Dick deserved more, maybe even simply some needed shades of grey. The sheer black and white lacks depth after a while, something that Melville’s original book had plenty of.
Also, someone needs to educate Chaboute in a more nuanced use of the exclamation point. Practically every sentence of dialogue (and it’s almost all dialogue) ends in an exclamation point, giving the impression that all characters are constantly raising their voices, even when they’re clearly not. It seems a trifling complaint at first, but becomes increasingly annoying as the pages wear on, soon establishing a monotonous feeling of forced volume throughout the novel. This overuse feels a bit childish, akin to a cheap comic book, a detraction that could have been easily rectified before publication.
Despite these setbacks, Chaboute’s adaptation is well worth the time of any fan of Herman Melville’s definitive classic. In the hands of this artist, the graphic novel proves a compelling vehicle for a retelling of one of the world’s greatest stories. In fact, it is one we can all get on board....more
Collections of short works are tricky things to review. I say this almost every bloody time I review one. *Official rating is 3.5, but always round up!
Collections of short works are tricky things to review. I say this almost every bloody time I review one. The reason being that each story or article or piece is inevitably pitted against one another in terms of likeability, and by a law of averages certain ones swim while other sink. A talent-fueled tale, followed by an even better one, tends to devalue the first.
This is often the case with Palahniuk's 'Stranger Than Fiction'.
This book was on my radar for years. Someone bought it for me last Christmas and I finally got around to diving in. I dig Chucky P quite a bit, enough to cite him as a writing influence of mine. Generally, there is a mixed response to his books and subject matter, but I've always admired his minimalist style and the way he strolls through territory where other writers fear to tread. However, his shock and awe tactics can get a bit transparent at times. Like a lot of his works, 'Stranger Than Fiction' is no different in this department.
For example, the first story you encounter is called 'Testy Festy'. It's about the Red Creek Lodge Testicle Festival, and an all-out in-your-face collage of blowjobs, handjobs, and crude lewd public sex acts in a nudist campground setting. It's signature Palahniuk, acting as a gatekeeper of a story that will make a number of readers put the book down before they've gotten through the first few pages.
If you can get past that one, you'll be fine.
The rest of this collection of non-fiction shorts offers some incredible insight to Palahniuk's considerably different, sometimes slightly demented, world. The book is divided into three sections: People Together, Portraits, and Personal. There is so much variety to take in, but it does have its problems. And those problems will often boil down to what you personally find interesting or engaging.
I loved reading about the author's life in 'Personal', his trials and tribulations, successes and failures. Mostly, it's his own eclectic experiences with family, friends, loss, steroids, shitty day-jobs, sickness, and writing that I found most fulfilling. A lot of the 'People Together' stuff was pretty great too; a combine harvester demolition derby, a collection of American DIY castle builders, the wrecked world or amateur wrestling, uncomfortable life aboard a US nuclear submarine. These stories couldn't be more different from one another. The spectrum covered is as wide as it is odd and interesting.
But the 'Portraits' section was often a let down for me. I can't fault Palahniuk too much for this, as most of them were gleaned from interviews with famous folk, and an article can only be as good as its subject. Let's just say I didn't really care about Juliette Lewis before I read Chuck's article about her, and I certainly couldn't give a shit about her afterward. Ditto for Marylin Manson and a couple others. There were other slight annoyances, like the mentioning of "Brad Pitt" a little too often throughout the book or Palahniuk occasionally passing judgement on people or topics that felt a bit unfair, particularly in the face of evidence that suggested his conclusions were wrong or weak.
I think the people who will mine the most profit out of 'Stranger Than Fiction' are writers themselves. There is a lot we writers can relate to in this book, and it's always a treat to be invited inside a successful author's head to be granted insight alongside memories recovered/analyzed. If you're at all a fan of Chuck Palahniuk, 'Stranger Than Fiction' makes a great companion to whatever collection of his books you already possess. ...more
Billed as a black comedy, my feelings on 'The Bottle Factory Outing' are mixed. I imagine most readers reactions would be mixed too, although I could Billed as a black comedy, my feelings on 'The Bottle Factory Outing' are mixed. I imagine most readers reactions would be mixed too, although I could see it being for considerably different reasons.
First, the skinny on the story: Two young flatmates, Freda and Brenda, work at a wine factory in London. They couldn't be more different from one another, or the mostly Italian immigrant men that work alongside them. Freda is fierce, independent, troublesome and romantic. Brenda is a victim plagued by victim mentality; shy, dependent, and also troublesome in her own way. Freda is in love with the factory owner's nephew, while Brenda is constantly dodging the advances of the factory manager. When both girls and a collection of the men embark on a company outing for the day, something horrible happens in the woods near their picnic, the result of which sends each character into a tailspin. The novel is a dive headfirst into the mentalities of men and women met with all kinds of tensions during that time period.
Beryl Bainbridge was brought to my attention by a trusted source as some recommended reading. I picked up this short novel and got cracking. Technically, it fit the profile of the material I prefer. Generally, I tend to read mostly older books; lean stuff from the 70s and 80s where a premium was put on talent and writing ability. These books don't qualify as 'classics' in the classical sense, but they challenge the talent that came before and set the bar high. Sometimes, however, there can be a strange atmosphere when reading them. It feels like too many generation gaps are acting as hurdles that hamper an otherwise good reading experience. No fault of the reader or the writer here, just one of those realities with older books.
I felt this novel was a good example of that. I found it hard to lose myself in the book because of a prevailing sense of disconnection that permeated the reading of it. On the flip side, it's very well written (despite the tremendous overuse of adverbs), and Bainbridge was obviously pushing some buttons at the time with her talent. One thing I found eye-opening in the novel was the abysmal treatment of women in the workplace in the 70s. The daily sexual/physical harassment suffered by female employees at the hands of the their male counterparts and superiors will make you shake your head in dismay. It's a decent little story, as well as a window into a world we would barely recognize today.
Overall, I found the fare a little light for my taste and also found myself rushing to finish the book off by the end of it. That being said, the impact of certain portions and passages were not diminished in the slightest, because when Bainbridge throws a punch, she hits you in the gut. A solid 3-star rating for a good book with some understandable shortcomings. ...more
I'd heard quite a lot about Donnybrook over the last several years. It's a short novel that has been recommended by plenty of people and has been a blI'd heard quite a lot about Donnybrook over the last several years. It's a short novel that has been recommended by plenty of people and has been a blip on my radar for awhile. I finally got around to reading it recently, and it proved to be both an enjoyable and disagreeable experience. It's tough to review a book like Donnybrook for two main reasons.
1) It's the type of story I like to read. 2) It's not the kind of writing I enjoy reading.
The plot is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. Set in the broken backwoods of southern Indiana, Donnybrook focuses on a dozen or so dangerous characters, most of who exist on the fringes of society and fight to stay alive, carving out an existence that amounts to little more than survival one day at a time. Unemployment and drug-addiction run rampant as rural societies hang on by their fingernails. Several desperate/deplorable/vengeful story lines are put in motion, all of them advancing toward the fabled 'Donnybrook', a three-day bare-knuckle fight fest where much money can be won and lives can be lost. It's a great read if you're into stories about the state of man's brutality when guys start scraping the bottom of the barrel. The plot gets a little redundant by falling into a loose pattern where robbery, fights, torture, double-crosses, gun play and getting shot seem to cycle over and over again. But otherwise, you get what you paid for; so much savagery that the whole thing starts to lose its bite after awhile.
When it comes to the writing, however, I'd been led to believe that the prose would be lean, clean, and razor sharp. The truth is the narrative is quite bloated in a lot of places; far too much description going on, an awful lot of similes (a good number of them eye-roll worthy), and a lot of instances where the author's stabs at creativity fall flat or fail to connect. Much more could have been achieved with less, which is surprising since Donnybrook is so short a read. Dialogue is great, but the action scenes are frustratingly repetitive and come off like movie script fight sequences that often drag on too long. For such a hard-hitting sinewy story, the writing doesn't match, which is a goddamn shame.
If you like your books brutal and bloody, this novel is a worthwhile read. But I hunger for the kind of writing that emulates the key fighters in this novel; lean, disciplined, and highly effective. You won't find enough of that in Donnybrook unfortunately....more
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