Book blogging (mostly)
Posts by Scott
The Book of Three (Audio)
41 year ago
I can’t exactly remember who or what referred me to The Book of Three. All I know is a few weeks ago I received a “the book you placed on hold is now available” email from the library and so I went and picked it up.
The Book of Three tells the story of a young assistant pig-keeper named Taran who lives in a mythical realm known as Prydain. If you have seen the movie “The Black Cauldron” you have seen a movie loosely based on this book. (Interesting note – the second book in this trilogy is actually called The Black Cauldron, but the movie of the same title is based on the first book. Go figure). Anyways, Taran has to recover his lost pig, but ends up having a grand adventure along the way.
The story is your classic hero quest, but what makes this book so good is the plethora of interesting characters. From the sassy and hilarious Eilonwy, to the pathological liar/bard/king Fflewddur Fflam, The Book of Three is absolutely bursting with entertainment. By the end, the story was just a means for placing these great characters into situations in which they could interact with each other. That isn’t to say the story was boring, but the dialogue was by far the star of the show.
I highly recommend this (the narrator is excellent on the audio book, but I’m sure actually reading it would be just as good) to anyone who enjoys lighthearted fantasy. Personally, I can’t wait to read the next book in the series if for no other reason than to see what everyone is up to next.
First Line: Don Quixote
31 year ago
You might not be aware of this, but Don Quixote is a massive book. As a result I will probably be doing multiple posts about it so that this blog doesn’t screech to a halt while I work my way through it. Note: I’m reading the Edith Grossman translation. Also, I am already about 240 pages into the book, so this discussion is being informed by more than a blind reading of the first line.
“Somewhere in La Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing” (1).
First of all, I love the irony of Cervantes writing a 900+ page book about Don Quixote, but being unwilling to remember where in La Mancha he comes from. Not just because it’s inherently humorous, but also because it shows, immediately, the tone we can expect from the entire book. Though this may be a classic work of fiction, it is not a dry, dusty tome that we must put upon a shelf and venerate from a distance. It is a book that is meant to be engaged and enjoyed. Cervantes is telling us, with the very first line of the book, that we should have fun reading about the most famous knight errant of all time. And, 240 pages later, he’s done everything he can so far to reinforce this initial impression.
I also enjoy this first line because of how clearly Cervantes’s voice comes through. This intrigued me initially, but I didn’t realize how important it would become until I read more. I don’t want to spoil anything but Cervantes is more than just the author and narrator – he is, to some extent, also a character in Don Quixote. The extent to which the fourth wall has been broken in this book is surprising (and wonderful). What is just as impressive, though, is that this is clearly evident from the opening line of the book, if you take the time to consider the implications of its tone and style.
I was originally intimated by the thought of reading a classic like Don Quixote. I’m happy to report, however, that this opening line eased me into the book smoothly and pleasantly. If you haven’t read this classic either, I’m curious – what are your thoughts on this opener?
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass
6
So I’ve done something for the first time since starting my book database – I’ve given up on a book. I started reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland over the weekend, put about 60 pages into it, and decided that was enough. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying the book is terrible or anything, but I just couldn’t get into it. It was imaginative, bizarre, and absurd (in a good way), but it didn’t captivate me.
I realized I wasn’t having any fun, and a book like Alice seems like it should be all about fun, so I’ve decided to move on to one of the many other books I have on hand. What’s interesting is it’s definitely NOT the worst book I’ve read in the last two years. I guess I don’t think it’s fair to read this classic when I’m clearly not in the mood for it.
My question for you, though, is “What’s wrong with me?” Am I missing the innocent imagination of childhood required to become engrossed in Alice? Or is it just something about my current mood that makes the book unpalatable at the moment? I know there are some out there who must enjoy this book (and I can see why), so please educate me. It feels wrong to not get a classic like this. Oh well, hopefully I can find something on the bookshelf that fits my mood better….
The Well at the World’s End Volume I
51 year ago
We spent Easter weekend with some friends in Denton, TX. While there, I had the opportunity to go to the best used book store I’ve ever seen: Recycled Books. In addition to being clean, well-organized, and having the most amazing selection of books, they also had a wide array of collector’s items. As I was perusing the fantasy/sci-fi collector’s section, my attention was drawn to The Wood Beyond the World by William Morris. I glanced at it, saw that it claimed to be “the first fantasy novel ever written”, but decided to put it back and picked up The Well at the World’s End instead. I didn’t know anything about this book, but it fascinated me for some reason. Plus, the back had a quote by C.S. Lewis saying it was great. That, plus the $4 price tag, were enough to sell me.
All that said, I probably should have actually read some of the book to see if I would enjoy it, rather than buying it blindly. I was quite shocked when I opened it up and the first thing I read was “Long ago there was a little land, over which ruled a regulus or kinglet, who was called King Peter, though his kingdom was but little” (1). What? Why does a book written in 1896 (about the same time as James Joyce’s Dubliners, as a matter of fact) sound like it is from the 15th century? I was disappointed, frustrated, and by page 20, I was ready to quit. I pushed on, however, and I’m extremely glad I did.
The Well at the World’s End may utilize archaic language, but once you get used to it, you realize what a rich world the story contains. Ralph, the main character in search of the Well, is youthful, brave, and not afraid to love. While at first I found the language to be a hindrance, by the end I found it added to the sense of fantasy and antiquity that make the book so interesting.
It’s also interesting to consider Morris as an influence on Tolkien and all modern fantasy writers (a common claim I saw online when looking up information on Morris). In terms of tone and style there were definitely some similarities to The Lord of the Rings (perhaps I will detail these on a later blog post?). If you are at all interested in fantasy, and are willing to make the effort to get comfortable with the archaic writing, you will really enjoy The Well at the World’s End. It surprises me to say this given my early dislike of the book, but in the end I was enthralled with the tale and can’t wait to find out what happens in Volume II.
“Maybe thou art seeking for what is not. Or maybe thou shalt seek and shalt find, and there may be naught in what thou findest, whereof to give thee such gifts as are meet for they faithfulness and valiancy. But in thine home shouldst thou have all gifts which thou mayest desire” (257).
Full database entry on The Well at the World’s End Volume I. Beware Spoilers.
A Personal Matter
61 year ago
There is no doubt in my mind that A Personal Matter is a skilfully executed piece of literature. And I hated reading it. The main character, Bird, is a 27 year old who dreams of going to Africa. When his son is born with a brain hernia, he is faced with deciding between surgery for his son (which may or may not allow him to develop normally) and preventing the surgery and allowing the baby to die.
Maybe it’s because I’m a young father myself, but the very idea that Bird would even consider allowing his baby to die disgusted me. Reading this book was a disturbing, and unpleasant experience. At the same, the mere fact that Oe was able to illicit these feelings in me as strongly as he has shows that he is good at what he does. Unfortunately, what he did here is create a character so selfish and depraved that I actively hated him while reading.
With all that said, this brings up an interesting question: do I recommend a book that I hated reading, one full of characters I found offensive and deplorable if it was all intentional? How do you handle situations like this? Do you still recommend the book even though you hated it in terms of content, because it’s an example of good writing? Or do you choose from myriad other books that are contain good writing, but are not despicable? I would certainly never recommend this book outright, but I have to admit, if you want something that deals with difficult problems in a vicious manner this book is perfect for you.
“But it seems that reality compels you to live properly when you live in the real world” (164).
Secrets of the Dragon Sanctuary
01 year ago
First of all, I apologize for the recent lack of updates. Between traveling, Easter, and being sick I’ve been reading a lot, but not writing much. I have a nice little backlog of finished books, though, so hopefully I’ll be able to catch up and post some more over the next few weeks.
Now onto Secrets of the Dragon Sanctuary. I don’t actually know what else I can say about the Fablehaven books that I haven’t said previously. They are fun, creative, exciting books that are perfect when you want something that is well executed, but does not requiring extensive emotional investment.
I guess the most important thing I can share with you at this point is as of the 4th (and penultimate) volume in the series, they are still very enjoyable. I didn’t find myself captivated quite as quickly with this book as I have with the first 3, but I ended up there eventually. So, if you are a fan of fun juvenile fiction that mixes magic and realistically developed characters, give the Fablehaven series a shot. And if you have been reading the series, send me an email so we can make up wild theories about how the series will end.
“’What am I supposed to do with this?’ Kendra asked, pulling the knife out.
‘Stab’, Seth suggested.”
Full Database entry on Secrets of the Dragon Sanctuary. Beware Spoilers
The Graveyard Book (audio)
71 year ago
I have a weird relationship with Neil Gaiman’s books. His stories always fascinate me conceptually, but upon reading them, I’m inevitably underwhelmed. That isn’t to say his books are bad, just not as great as I hope they will be upon reading a plot summary.
The Graveyard Book suffers this same small letdown. The idea – a young boy, orphaned after the brutal murder of his family, is raised by the ghosts that inhabit a nearby graveyard – is pretty awesome. The execution, while still very entertaining and enjoyable, is just enough less awesome to be disappointing. Maybe I expect too much from Gaiman, but if that’s the case it’s his own fault for having such awesome ideas.
The best part about The Graveyard Book is how it celebrates life through the constant presence of death. This theme emerges so naturally from the content of the book that it doesn’t ever feel cliche or preachy. Gaiman also ties everything together nicely in the end. Unfortunately, there are too many parts that drag along the way to make it excellent from beginning to end.
On the whole this a good book and, if you choose to go with the audio version, I think you will be pleasantly surprised by Gaiman’s skill as a narrator. In spite of my own weird disappointment, I don’t have a problem recommending this. It’s not Gaiman’s best (Neverwhere, Stardust), but it’s far from his worst (Good Omens).
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
41 year ago
I’ve read a lot of books in the last 2 years (43 – 120 if you including audio books, but who’s counting?), and I’ve enjoyed the vast majority. Part of this is because I enjoy the very experience of reading, so for most books I can find some aspect of it that I enjoy.
Some books are funny (Areas of My Expertise), some are sad (Firmin), and some are both (I Am a Cat). Some are weird (Wind-Up Bird Chronicle), some fun (Fablehaven, Percy Jackson and the Olympians) and some are, apparently, only for me (Botchan – sorry Nicole). I’ve enjoyed all of these, and I recommend them for various reasons and to various people.
There are some, however, that are so good that it’s hard to even discuss them. I love to read, and I enjoy talking about books, but how do you discuss a great book if you aren’t a great writer? How do I fit into a blog post or database entry the scope, the characters, or the beauty of East of Eden? How do I explain the moving, subtle, and amazing experience of reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close? Do I give you a brief overview of the plot? Or discuss the clarity and reality of the 9 year old narrator, Oskar Schell? Would these kinds of facts make you more likely to read this book? Because, trust me, you should want to read this book.
I wish I were exaggerating, but I’m honestly not. 2010 is going to have its work cut out for it to send another book my way that will be as good as this one. I don’t think I can say this is my favorite book of all time (I’ve only read it once, after all), but it gives me the same feeling I remember having the first time I read other books that do top of my list of all time favorites – Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, East of Eden, Ender’s Game, The Catcher in the Rye.
There’s just something about truly great books that changes not only the way you look at other books, but the way you look at everything. If you haven’t read this yet, please add it to your to-read list. And if you have, please gush with me in the comments.
“I didn’t want to hear about death. It was all anyone talked about, even when no one was actually talking about it” (295).
Full database entry on Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Beware Spoilers.
Dubliners
41 year ago
It is clear from Dubliners why James Joyce is so highly regarded. The most impressive thing, for me, was his ability to capture so much emotion, so realistically, in so few pages. Without feeling forced, or cliched, he would perfectly express anger, jealousy, fear, or love. I also enjoyed how these short stories each had their own unique voice. It wasn’t one narrator telling 15 different tales, but 15 different narrators, each telling their own story in a style perfectly suited for their respective themes, characters, and plot.
All of this becomes even more impressive when we consider Joyce was only 25 when these stories were first published. If you enjoy short stories, I would definitely recommend this collection. For the rest of us, though, I think there is still a lot to like about these tales. Plus, what with them being so short, you don’t have to read them all at once and, taken individually, there’s no reason not to give each of these stories the mere 10 to 30 minutes that they require.
“He watched the scene and thought of life; and (as always happened when he thought of life) he became sad. A gentle melancholy took possession of him. He felt how useless it was to struggle against fortune, this being the burden of wisdom which the ages had bequeathed to him” (66).
Full database entry on Dubliners. Beware spoilers.
The rest of this post is a more general discussion on short stories and reading for depth, so if all you were interested in was Dubliners, no need to keep reading. Otherwise….
I’m not sure if I “get” short stories. Granted, my experience with them is limited (all I can remember right now is a few Poe stories and Philip K. Dick’s The Minority Report and Other Classic Stories), but there is a certain rhythm to them that doesn’t come naturally to me. I think this is a combination of not giving each story the same consideration I would a full novel (I will typically move on to the next story without meditating on the first) and the fact that many short stories end without the sense of resolution or satisfaction that you get from a full novel (and this doesn’t even consider the tendency many short stories have towards the “gotcha” ending).
In spite of all this, however, I chose to read Dubliners for two reasons: I knew that, being written by Joyce, there was going to be a lot of depth to the writing, and I felt that short stories would offer a smaller, more manageable opportunity to put to use the tools I discovered in How to Read Literature. On the whole, I think the endeavor was mildly successful. I say only mildly because, while I was able to read in a slightly more professorial manner, I also find myself not always wanting to.
For me reading is a pleasurable hobby, and I don’t want that to change. However, the more I considered the multiple layers of meaning that may be present within the text, the less I found myself enjoying the experience of reading. With all that said I’ve decided that, going forward, my main concern will be enjoying what I’m reading, with or without the tools of professorial reading. Then, if I loved what I read, I can take the time to meditate further upon the text and pursue essays and literary criticisms on specific subjects that interest me. This combination, I think, will allow me to still enjoy reading, while also improving my ability to read at a deeper level. In theory, at least.
First Line: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
21 year ago
I want to do something a little different with this First Line. In the last 3, I chose books that I read previously and so in each case I was familiar with where the books were going. If, however, I’m to take my claim that the first line of a book is important seriously, then I should give serious thought to the first line of a book the first time I read it. So that’s what I’m doing with Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I don’t know anything about this book. I haven’t read the back of it, no one has described the plot to me, nothing. All I know is that it starts with the following:
“What about a teakettle?”
Huh? Or, in the words of the opening chapter “What the?” This isn’t a lot to go from, but it’s not impossible to make a few wild guesses. To start, it gives me the impression that this is going to be an odd book. After all, it did just start itself asking if a teakettle is more appropriate. Than what? Who knows. For what? No clue. I am looking forward to finding out what, though, and that’s definitely a good sign.
It also makes me think this is going to be a more intimate book. In other words, I can see this being a book where the story is shared with me, like a good friend telling me what happened to them, as opposed to some distant omniscient narrator relating historic events. I love when books are written like this, too, so if this guess is accurate I’m very excited to continue reading. As a matter of fact, teasing myself with the first line in this way is making me want to read this book even more.
What are your guesses for what this book will be like, those of you who haven’t read it? And if you have, feel free to post vague, knowing comments like “Interesting…” or “Aren’t you in for a treat!”.