I was pretty disappointed in this book. I didn't realize when I purchased it that it was part of the Oak Knoll series because I really didn't like the first one. I wasn't drawn to any of the characters and there were so many red herrings that I ended the book not really caring who did it but longing for the book to be over.
I don't know a lot about crime and how police departments work when there is a crime, but some of the paths and steps taken by the main people didn't seem like steps I'd seen in other crime fiction. I'm sure Hoag researched and by this point knows pretty well how the process works, but this just didn't seem right to me.
Anne is a very dull character. I didn't like her in the first book and I didn't like her in the second. She doesn't really seem to change or develop; she just remains this dull, flat character. I know we are supposed to feel sad for her and Vince as they struggle to conceive, but that topic is just hardly grazed and then never brought up again. As one who has struggled with reproducing, I find this disappointing. If it's major enough to write about throughout the book, write about it. However, if it's not that big of a deal (as it feels in this book) leave it out. It just took away from the story-line and left me confused and disappointed at the lack of time spent on that "major" problem of Anne and Vince. Maybe this will be talked about more in the third?
I have the same complaints about the trial with Peter Crane and Anne. This is mentioned two or three times in the book, but it isn't really ever talked about and again it just detracts from the story. I'm assuming both of these will be talked more about in the third book? I'm not sure that I'll continue reading to the third book. I like Hoag a lot, and have loved several of her novels, but this one, this series, is a no-go for me.
Showing posts with label Book Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Reviews. Show all posts
Friday, September 14, 2018
Sunday, August 19, 2018
R is for Redeeming Love: Francine Rivers
I was very hesitant about reading another Rivers' book. I didn't really enjoy the first one I read, and I'd heard a lot about her writing that I didn't think I would enjoy.
Knowing we have different beliefs, I approached this as a fiction work (as it's meant to be) and tried to set aside my beliefs (which is very difficult/impossible to do) and focus on the story Rivers told. I was impressed and impacted.
I know the story. I know how Hosea's tale goes. Yet I longed for something different. I begged Angel to stay and not leave him. But each time she did, and each time my heart broke a little more. That's one of the things I loved about this book: Rivers made me feel.
I started reading one Friday afternoon, thinking I would kill some time until an appointment and then maybe pick it up the next time I had extra minutes on my hand. I was so wrong. Right away, I was a part of the story. I was on Angel's team, cheering for her, crying for her, laughing with her. Rivers made her real. She was a real character with real emotions, real dialogue, real thoughts. It was easy to fall in love with a character who made you feel the things she was feeling.
Then, when Michael came in, I was hooked even more! He was perfect (of course, Rivers does a great job making him human too, showing us his flaws, his pain, and his sins-much more easier to love him too!)! He was everything I needed in a hero. He was bold when he needed to be, cautious when necessary, patient, loving, hardworking, and sinful. All things that we all are. And that was perfect.
Every roadblock that either Angel or Michael faced had me gripping the book so tightly. i wanted so badly a happy ending, and I was so disappointed in the end: for a while. Rivers kept me on edge the whole story, which was great, because going into the book I thought that I knew exactly what would happen. I'd studied Hosea pretty well. I'd done a report on the book and written a few papers on the topic, so I figured it would be fun to read a "modern" (rather, more modern than Hosea) re-telling of a familiar story. Wrong! Rivers sticks to the basics but adds so many twists that I was guessing the whole time.
Needless to say, I read this book in one evening because I couldn't stop. Wonderful book!
Knowing we have different beliefs, I approached this as a fiction work (as it's meant to be) and tried to set aside my beliefs (which is very difficult/impossible to do) and focus on the story Rivers told. I was impressed and impacted.
I know the story. I know how Hosea's tale goes. Yet I longed for something different. I begged Angel to stay and not leave him. But each time she did, and each time my heart broke a little more. That's one of the things I loved about this book: Rivers made me feel.
I started reading one Friday afternoon, thinking I would kill some time until an appointment and then maybe pick it up the next time I had extra minutes on my hand. I was so wrong. Right away, I was a part of the story. I was on Angel's team, cheering for her, crying for her, laughing with her. Rivers made her real. She was a real character with real emotions, real dialogue, real thoughts. It was easy to fall in love with a character who made you feel the things she was feeling.
Then, when Michael came in, I was hooked even more! He was perfect (of course, Rivers does a great job making him human too, showing us his flaws, his pain, and his sins-much more easier to love him too!)! He was everything I needed in a hero. He was bold when he needed to be, cautious when necessary, patient, loving, hardworking, and sinful. All things that we all are. And that was perfect.
Every roadblock that either Angel or Michael faced had me gripping the book so tightly. i wanted so badly a happy ending, and I was so disappointed in the end: for a while. Rivers kept me on edge the whole story, which was great, because going into the book I thought that I knew exactly what would happen. I'd studied Hosea pretty well. I'd done a report on the book and written a few papers on the topic, so I figured it would be fun to read a "modern" (rather, more modern than Hosea) re-telling of a familiar story. Wrong! Rivers sticks to the basics but adds so many twists that I was guessing the whole time.
Needless to say, I read this book in one evening because I couldn't stop. Wonderful book!
L is for Long Way Gone: Charles Martin
A friend recommended this book to me when I was using bookstore gift cards, so I purchased it, thinking I wouldn't be out anything if I didn't like it, and it seemed to get good reviews. Then it sat on my shelf for a few months until a vacation on a beach with a plane ride: perfect time to read all the unread books on my shelves. I picked this one up first on the plane, but when I read the book, I stopped. "A radical retelling of the prodigal son story..." No thank you. I'll save it for last. Then when I ran out of books, I had no choice but to return to Long Way Gone. And boy, am I glad I did.
My hesitation was that so many people take Scripture and try to "modernize" it to make it more applicable or entertaining, and in doing so, completely miss the purpose of Scripture. I tend to stay away from any thing that claims to retell a story from the Bible. When I finally did read Long Way Gone, I didn't focus on the prodigal son story. There are some obvious connections, but I was able to just ignore those, look at the story as a story of fiction, and then, when I finished, I was able to look back and appreciate the less obvious connections and hints at the parable Jesus told.
What a journey. It was such a difficult path that Cooper traveled, and my heart bled for him so many times. I felt his pain and several times I found myself wiping away tears. Several times I tried to yell at Cooper and tell him what to do, tell him to go home, but I couldn't. He took the path he needed to travel, and when he did finally find his way home, it was the perfect timing. His journey was exactly what he needed, and he came back stronger for it.
I'm somewhat of a musician, and I loved the music of this book. Martin weaves music in so well and it's very beautiful. The songs he chose are great ties to the story, and I'm longing to hear Daley and Cooper perform, especially Long Way Gone; I'm sure that would be an incredible piece.
I loved the connection with Blondie. I thought that was a fun thing to add, especially the scene where his face changes to show how he had been with Cooper the whole time.
One of the praises for this book really struck me as a theme for this novel: "Cooper and Daley's story will make you believe that even broken instruments have songs to offer when they're in the right hands" (Lisa Wingate, National Bestselling Author of The Story Keeper and The Sea Keeper's Daughter on Long Way Gone). This is what Cooper needed to discover. This is what his father tried to show him. This is what Daley learned. And this is what Cooper continued to teach. And it's true for us today. We are all broken instruments, sinful and unclean, and we can do nothing. We can do nothing apart from God. He's those "right hands" that we need in order to sing our songs, our songs which are not our own at all, but His.
Really beautiful work.
My hesitation was that so many people take Scripture and try to "modernize" it to make it more applicable or entertaining, and in doing so, completely miss the purpose of Scripture. I tend to stay away from any thing that claims to retell a story from the Bible. When I finally did read Long Way Gone, I didn't focus on the prodigal son story. There are some obvious connections, but I was able to just ignore those, look at the story as a story of fiction, and then, when I finished, I was able to look back and appreciate the less obvious connections and hints at the parable Jesus told.
What a journey. It was such a difficult path that Cooper traveled, and my heart bled for him so many times. I felt his pain and several times I found myself wiping away tears. Several times I tried to yell at Cooper and tell him what to do, tell him to go home, but I couldn't. He took the path he needed to travel, and when he did finally find his way home, it was the perfect timing. His journey was exactly what he needed, and he came back stronger for it.
I'm somewhat of a musician, and I loved the music of this book. Martin weaves music in so well and it's very beautiful. The songs he chose are great ties to the story, and I'm longing to hear Daley and Cooper perform, especially Long Way Gone; I'm sure that would be an incredible piece.
I loved the connection with Blondie. I thought that was a fun thing to add, especially the scene where his face changes to show how he had been with Cooper the whole time.
One of the praises for this book really struck me as a theme for this novel: "Cooper and Daley's story will make you believe that even broken instruments have songs to offer when they're in the right hands" (Lisa Wingate, National Bestselling Author of The Story Keeper and The Sea Keeper's Daughter on Long Way Gone). This is what Cooper needed to discover. This is what his father tried to show him. This is what Daley learned. And this is what Cooper continued to teach. And it's true for us today. We are all broken instruments, sinful and unclean, and we can do nothing. We can do nothing apart from God. He's those "right hands" that we need in order to sing our songs, our songs which are not our own at all, but His.
Really beautiful work.
K is for Kill Me Now: Timmy Reed
I received the Advance Reading Copy in a giveaway, so I'm not sure if anything that I comment on is different in the final publishing.
I was at first turned off by the style of writing and the way the narrator spoke and acted. It was so against everything I stand for that I had a really hard time not putting the book down. I had to remind myself that that was the point of the book: the grunge and grime and all the dirty details of Miles' life.
When I was able to get past the grunge and appreciate the book for what it was, I did appreciate it.
Miles is so human and realistic and very easy to bring to life as you read. Reed creates the world and the person so true to life that it's almost impossible not to feel like Miles exists as a child you know from the neighborhood next door.
Usually in a book like this, the narrator goes through something which forces him to grow or learn something, and I found it really fascinating that Reed was able to pull this book off without anything like that happening. Each day, something happened to Miles and he "learned" something. He never really changed, and he never really grew up, but this novel takes place over just a few months in his summer. He doesn't have much time to grow.
I appreciated that ability of Reed's, but I also would have liked to see Miles learn something, mature, or grow up in some way, and I was a bit disappointed when the Miles at the end of the story is the same as the Miles in the beginning.
I was annoyed throughout the novel with the random words that were completely capitalized. This definitely took away from my enjoyment. It was distracting to me to have these emphasized words randomly throughout the book. I understand why Reed did that, but every time I came across a capitalized word, I was taken out of the story.
I also have a very difficult time placing Miles as a fourteen year old. The words he uses (for example "copacetic," even though he spelled it wrong: I'm not sure if that's supposed to point to his age or if that's a typo in the ARC copy) don't seem like his age or his personality. Or when he's talking about the TV and how he hate the machine but can't stop watching, that doesn't sound like his age or the personality we are led to believe he has. Sometimes it seems like his thoughts are too real or too deep or too old for the character Reed has created him to be. It's all very misleading to me.
I appreciated the last sentence and the irony of it. Reed did well there; it made me laugh but it also made me think about what I'd spent the past few days reading and made me ask myself why I read it.
I was at first turned off by the style of writing and the way the narrator spoke and acted. It was so against everything I stand for that I had a really hard time not putting the book down. I had to remind myself that that was the point of the book: the grunge and grime and all the dirty details of Miles' life.
When I was able to get past the grunge and appreciate the book for what it was, I did appreciate it.
Miles is so human and realistic and very easy to bring to life as you read. Reed creates the world and the person so true to life that it's almost impossible not to feel like Miles exists as a child you know from the neighborhood next door.
Usually in a book like this, the narrator goes through something which forces him to grow or learn something, and I found it really fascinating that Reed was able to pull this book off without anything like that happening. Each day, something happened to Miles and he "learned" something. He never really changed, and he never really grew up, but this novel takes place over just a few months in his summer. He doesn't have much time to grow.
I appreciated that ability of Reed's, but I also would have liked to see Miles learn something, mature, or grow up in some way, and I was a bit disappointed when the Miles at the end of the story is the same as the Miles in the beginning.
I was annoyed throughout the novel with the random words that were completely capitalized. This definitely took away from my enjoyment. It was distracting to me to have these emphasized words randomly throughout the book. I understand why Reed did that, but every time I came across a capitalized word, I was taken out of the story.
I also have a very difficult time placing Miles as a fourteen year old. The words he uses (for example "copacetic," even though he spelled it wrong: I'm not sure if that's supposed to point to his age or if that's a typo in the ARC copy) don't seem like his age or his personality. Or when he's talking about the TV and how he hate the machine but can't stop watching, that doesn't sound like his age or the personality we are led to believe he has. Sometimes it seems like his thoughts are too real or too deep or too old for the character Reed has created him to be. It's all very misleading to me.
I appreciated the last sentence and the irony of it. Reed did well there; it made me laugh but it also made me think about what I'd spent the past few days reading and made me ask myself why I read it.
Friday, August 17, 2018
J is for Jane Eyre: Charlotte Bronte
Jane Eyre was such a heartwarming read. I fell in love, I cried, I laughed, and I jumped. Bronte's method of writing was so captivating and real that I fully felt part of the story.
I've always struggled with (and just now finally got over) the drawn out beginning. Jane has a really difficult childhood, and I sympathize. I feel badly for her because she does have it rather rough. But it goes on and on and on. Even when the school is reported and someone else takes over and things should start to get better for Jane, there's nothing but sadness for her, it seems. We don't hear anything happy about her life until she reaches Thornfield Hall. I suppose one could argue that her life wasn't happy or didn't start until she came to Thornfield.
After I got through that beginning, I loved, loved, loved the novel. I love the way Jane and Mr. Rochester fall in love, and I love all of their interactions. I love that Mr. Rochester makes Jane think he'll marry Miss Ingram, because poor Jane becomes so distraught, but I like it because it forces her to admit her feelings and "stand up" to this guy. Of course, Mr. Rochester sees through every facade of Jane and knows all along what she's feeling. Theirs is such a lovely relationship.
The twists and turns of the story made it hard for me to go to work and put the book down. I knew Jane and Mr. Rochester would end up together, but I didn't know how. And Bronte just kept leading me astray! First with Miss Ingram, then with Rochester's wife, then with St. John, and I never felt comfortable in their security. I really enjoyed that. Bronte made me long to keep reading, and I need that in a book.
The big question in this book comes from Mr. Rochester in chapter XX: He asks Jane, "To attain this end, are you justified in over leaping an obstacle of custom-a mere conventional impediment, which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your judgment approves?" And again he asks, "Is the wandering and sinful, but now rest-seeking and repentant man, justified in daring the world's opinion, in order to attach to him forever, this gentle, gracious, genial stranger; thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?" Is he justified? Is he right?
I have to give some thought to this question. I appreciate a book that makes me think, and Bronte has certainly made me think. Certainly it would be right for Mr. Rochester to remain faithful and loyal to the woman he married, but at what point does Mrs. Rochester cease to be the woman he married? She's not in her right mind, but does that release Mr. Rochester from his vows? I just don't have an answer. I greatly appreciate that I have this serious question to consider because of a book.
Jane, later on when she's giving her own thought to the matter asks, "Whether it is better, I ask, to be a slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles-fevered with delusive bliss one hour-suffocating with the bitterest tears of remorse and shame the next-or to be a village school-mistress, free and honest, in a breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of England?" (chapter XXXI).
My only regret with this book is that I didn't read it sooner. I fully understand why it's a classic novel and why it's on so many book lists. Really great novel and I highly recommend it.
I've always struggled with (and just now finally got over) the drawn out beginning. Jane has a really difficult childhood, and I sympathize. I feel badly for her because she does have it rather rough. But it goes on and on and on. Even when the school is reported and someone else takes over and things should start to get better for Jane, there's nothing but sadness for her, it seems. We don't hear anything happy about her life until she reaches Thornfield Hall. I suppose one could argue that her life wasn't happy or didn't start until she came to Thornfield.
After I got through that beginning, I loved, loved, loved the novel. I love the way Jane and Mr. Rochester fall in love, and I love all of their interactions. I love that Mr. Rochester makes Jane think he'll marry Miss Ingram, because poor Jane becomes so distraught, but I like it because it forces her to admit her feelings and "stand up" to this guy. Of course, Mr. Rochester sees through every facade of Jane and knows all along what she's feeling. Theirs is such a lovely relationship.
The twists and turns of the story made it hard for me to go to work and put the book down. I knew Jane and Mr. Rochester would end up together, but I didn't know how. And Bronte just kept leading me astray! First with Miss Ingram, then with Rochester's wife, then with St. John, and I never felt comfortable in their security. I really enjoyed that. Bronte made me long to keep reading, and I need that in a book.
The big question in this book comes from Mr. Rochester in chapter XX: He asks Jane, "To attain this end, are you justified in over leaping an obstacle of custom-a mere conventional impediment, which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your judgment approves?" And again he asks, "Is the wandering and sinful, but now rest-seeking and repentant man, justified in daring the world's opinion, in order to attach to him forever, this gentle, gracious, genial stranger; thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?" Is he justified? Is he right?
I have to give some thought to this question. I appreciate a book that makes me think, and Bronte has certainly made me think. Certainly it would be right for Mr. Rochester to remain faithful and loyal to the woman he married, but at what point does Mrs. Rochester cease to be the woman he married? She's not in her right mind, but does that release Mr. Rochester from his vows? I just don't have an answer. I greatly appreciate that I have this serious question to consider because of a book.
Jane, later on when she's giving her own thought to the matter asks, "Whether it is better, I ask, to be a slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles-fevered with delusive bliss one hour-suffocating with the bitterest tears of remorse and shame the next-or to be a village school-mistress, free and honest, in a breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of England?" (chapter XXXI).
My only regret with this book is that I didn't read it sooner. I fully understand why it's a classic novel and why it's on so many book lists. Really great novel and I highly recommend it.
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
I is for An Irish Country Doctor: Patrick Taylor
I picked this book up because I found it at a thrift store, so it was pretty low-priced. I've always loved reading books that take place in Ireland, so the title appealed to me.
I'm so thankful I grabbed it!
First, this was an easy read, perfect for a vacation book. I finished it in a few days, and it was easy to pick up and put down as time came. There weren't any moments where I felt like I just couldn't put the book down, which was nice at the time, as I had just finished reading a thriller and was ready for something more light and easy.
I absolutely loved the setting. The world created by Taylor is so amusing and beautiful and appealing. I want to pack my bags and head to Ballybucklebo, and I'm very sad that it's fictional. Taylor made the world come to life through his multitude of characters. Bringing in an outsider is a great way to subtly describe the setting without overwhelming the reader, and Barry provided me with enough details to still leave some up to my imagination. Other details of the world of Ballybucklebo were provided through the dialogue, attitudes, and relationships of the other characters in the town. Having lively, human characters come to life on the pages brought the world they lived in to live even more.
I loved meeting all the characters and learning all of their quirks and how that impacts the surgery. Taylor created some fantastic characters with some of the most outrageous issues, and it was fun to read about them, and watch them develop (or not develop at all, which is also great because they're so entertaining and lovable as they are). He made each character human, with flaws that were funny but very serious at the same time, causing me to laugh while reflecting on myself and how that flaw can be seen in myself.
I quite enjoyed the relationship between O'Reilly and Barry, and it was fun to watch that grow after the rather unconventional first meeting. It was fun to see whose "team" I was on throughout, and I often found myself rooting for O'Reilly and his crazy ways rather than Barry and his by-the-book school of thought. It made me happy when Barry jumped on board with O'Reilly, and by the end, I felt like he would definitely be a great fit in Ballybucklebo.
I'm excited to read the next books in this 11-book series, because I can't wait to get more about these people: I want to grow with them.
This was a great book to read on vacation, sitting on the front porch, drinking a cup of coffee, and watching the sun rise. The sun warmed my skin, but this book warmed my heart. That's really what this book was: a heart-warming, laugh out loud, fall in love with the setting and characters kind of book, and I highly recommend it.
I'm so thankful I grabbed it!
First, this was an easy read, perfect for a vacation book. I finished it in a few days, and it was easy to pick up and put down as time came. There weren't any moments where I felt like I just couldn't put the book down, which was nice at the time, as I had just finished reading a thriller and was ready for something more light and easy.
I absolutely loved the setting. The world created by Taylor is so amusing and beautiful and appealing. I want to pack my bags and head to Ballybucklebo, and I'm very sad that it's fictional. Taylor made the world come to life through his multitude of characters. Bringing in an outsider is a great way to subtly describe the setting without overwhelming the reader, and Barry provided me with enough details to still leave some up to my imagination. Other details of the world of Ballybucklebo were provided through the dialogue, attitudes, and relationships of the other characters in the town. Having lively, human characters come to life on the pages brought the world they lived in to live even more.
I loved meeting all the characters and learning all of their quirks and how that impacts the surgery. Taylor created some fantastic characters with some of the most outrageous issues, and it was fun to read about them, and watch them develop (or not develop at all, which is also great because they're so entertaining and lovable as they are). He made each character human, with flaws that were funny but very serious at the same time, causing me to laugh while reflecting on myself and how that flaw can be seen in myself.
I quite enjoyed the relationship between O'Reilly and Barry, and it was fun to watch that grow after the rather unconventional first meeting. It was fun to see whose "team" I was on throughout, and I often found myself rooting for O'Reilly and his crazy ways rather than Barry and his by-the-book school of thought. It made me happy when Barry jumped on board with O'Reilly, and by the end, I felt like he would definitely be a great fit in Ballybucklebo.
I'm excited to read the next books in this 11-book series, because I can't wait to get more about these people: I want to grow with them.
This was a great book to read on vacation, sitting on the front porch, drinking a cup of coffee, and watching the sun rise. The sun warmed my skin, but this book warmed my heart. That's really what this book was: a heart-warming, laugh out loud, fall in love with the setting and characters kind of book, and I highly recommend it.
H is for The Handmaid's Tale: Margaret Atwood
I read 1984 by George Orwell in high school, and I remember that it was an easy read for me (as in I got through it really quickly) and I remember liking it, but I couldn't remember many details about it. When I picked up The Handmaid's Tale and saw on the back cover that someone was liking it to 1984, I admit, I was a bit hesitant. I thought that what was done in 1984 couldn't be reproduced. I should have realized, though, that the comparison didn't mean equality of themes, plots, and ideas. The two works are very different in the best ways.
The Handmaid's Tale does warn about the potential future of our lives, but it takes a different spin from 1984. In this world, women are given the sole purpose of reproducing, and if you fail to do that, you're banished.
I wish I could have read it when it was first published, because I think I might have taken the premise a bit more seriously. Things have greatly changed now, and so I can't even imagine the world turning into this. It's such a stretch, it seems, that we would revert back to the things the world has been fighting for for so long: granted, much of that I don't agree with: right to choose and abortion. However, these women aren't allowed to read. They aren't allowed to drink coffee or do anything that might hinder their chances of reproduction. Most of them don't get to be married and have to live bouncing between houses hoping to provide a baby for the couple they're serving at the time. These are things that sound so barbaric to me in this day and age, and it doesn't seem like anything we could expect.
This brings up another point: I'm torn up about the lack of backstory in this novel. Part of me really appreciates the fact that Atwood can weave a tale and create a world so fully without providing any background on how the world came to be. She mentioned a few small points like which country invaded America to enforce this lifestyle on them, but she gives no reason as to the how and whys. And the other part of me hates that she gives no how and whys. Had I known the history, I might have been more convinced of these changes. It's so difficult for me to believe all of the changes that the world had to go through in order to become what it is, when I see where we are now and can't see how the changes came about.
It obviously didn't take too long as Offred could remember her childhood being nothing like this, and she was married and had a baby before everything fell apart, and she was only in her 30s. The process from normality to this new life under the Eye must have only taken five years? Maybe less? That seems a bit unreasonable to me, but again, because I don't have the full story or the history, I don't really know.
The book itself was really easy to read. Because of the content, though, it took me a bit longer to get through it than to just read it. It was full of very heavy concepts, themes, and ideas. I was continually shocked by the neutral way all of the people in the story talked about the rapes and slavery and murder that was going on around them, especially as this generation knew life before the Eye took over. At one point in the story, one of the teachers mentioned how it would be easy with the next generation because all they'll know is this life and they won't know what it was before, in the past. Which is true in theory, but for Offred, she simply accepted what she had. It was just what she had to endure. She even had a husband and a child to fight for. I'm sure it wasn't easy to fight, but even when she had the chance to join the rebellion, she didn't.
I was very stricken with the themes Atwood wrote on, and the story caused me to think quite a bit about the life we have now and everything we've fought for. It's great that this story causes readers to stop and think about the freedoms and choices we have today and imagine the possibilities should those freedoms be taken away. I wasn't scared by reading this book, though, as some critics said would be the case. As mentioned earlier, this was too far-fetched seeing where we are today.
The Handmaid's Tale does warn about the potential future of our lives, but it takes a different spin from 1984. In this world, women are given the sole purpose of reproducing, and if you fail to do that, you're banished.
I wish I could have read it when it was first published, because I think I might have taken the premise a bit more seriously. Things have greatly changed now, and so I can't even imagine the world turning into this. It's such a stretch, it seems, that we would revert back to the things the world has been fighting for for so long: granted, much of that I don't agree with: right to choose and abortion. However, these women aren't allowed to read. They aren't allowed to drink coffee or do anything that might hinder their chances of reproduction. Most of them don't get to be married and have to live bouncing between houses hoping to provide a baby for the couple they're serving at the time. These are things that sound so barbaric to me in this day and age, and it doesn't seem like anything we could expect.
This brings up another point: I'm torn up about the lack of backstory in this novel. Part of me really appreciates the fact that Atwood can weave a tale and create a world so fully without providing any background on how the world came to be. She mentioned a few small points like which country invaded America to enforce this lifestyle on them, but she gives no reason as to the how and whys. And the other part of me hates that she gives no how and whys. Had I known the history, I might have been more convinced of these changes. It's so difficult for me to believe all of the changes that the world had to go through in order to become what it is, when I see where we are now and can't see how the changes came about.
It obviously didn't take too long as Offred could remember her childhood being nothing like this, and she was married and had a baby before everything fell apart, and she was only in her 30s. The process from normality to this new life under the Eye must have only taken five years? Maybe less? That seems a bit unreasonable to me, but again, because I don't have the full story or the history, I don't really know.
The book itself was really easy to read. Because of the content, though, it took me a bit longer to get through it than to just read it. It was full of very heavy concepts, themes, and ideas. I was continually shocked by the neutral way all of the people in the story talked about the rapes and slavery and murder that was going on around them, especially as this generation knew life before the Eye took over. At one point in the story, one of the teachers mentioned how it would be easy with the next generation because all they'll know is this life and they won't know what it was before, in the past. Which is true in theory, but for Offred, she simply accepted what she had. It was just what she had to endure. She even had a husband and a child to fight for. I'm sure it wasn't easy to fight, but even when she had the chance to join the rebellion, she didn't.
I was very stricken with the themes Atwood wrote on, and the story caused me to think quite a bit about the life we have now and everything we've fought for. It's great that this story causes readers to stop and think about the freedoms and choices we have today and imagine the possibilities should those freedoms be taken away. I wasn't scared by reading this book, though, as some critics said would be the case. As mentioned earlier, this was too far-fetched seeing where we are today.
Saturday, April 14, 2018
G is for A Grief Observed: C.S. Lewis
This book helped me get through a very difficult time. Although this is written after and in response to the death of Lewis' wife, he had many perspectives and thoughts that were very applicable to what I was suffering.
I appreciated that he didn't try to give us any answers to grief. He didn't try to show us how to get through the grief or get over the grief. Instead, he just acknowledges or observes grief, and it's very helpful, as someone who is also grieving, to read about the journey through grief and how someone else handled his grief. It helps provide a sense of camaraderie and fellowship which is often lacking in grief. It's easy to feel isolated, but Lewis gives us a partner through his writings.
It's difficult to offer any sort of review on this book, because I had such a great emotional response to his writing that I don't feel that I am in any position to critique it. Therefore, I'll leave it at this short analysis of how I felt when reading.
I appreciated that he didn't try to give us any answers to grief. He didn't try to show us how to get through the grief or get over the grief. Instead, he just acknowledges or observes grief, and it's very helpful, as someone who is also grieving, to read about the journey through grief and how someone else handled his grief. It helps provide a sense of camaraderie and fellowship which is often lacking in grief. It's easy to feel isolated, but Lewis gives us a partner through his writings.
It's difficult to offer any sort of review on this book, because I had such a great emotional response to his writing that I don't feel that I am in any position to critique it. Therefore, I'll leave it at this short analysis of how I felt when reading.
Tuesday, April 3, 2018
F is for Flags in the Dust: William Faulkner
I've never been able to decide how I feel about William Faulkner's writing. I read As I Lay Dying years ago, and I thought it was an okay book: very dark, sad, and almost twisted, but it was very well written. I can't deny that Faulkner was a very talented man. The biggest struggle I have with him is the dialect he creates for his characters to speak in. I have to work pretty hard to understand what they're saying, and I don't particularly like that, but I did get used to it after 100 pages or so. I am thankful that the narrator speaks without a dialect, giving readers a break from the concentration and thought they must have when reading a character's speak. It's hard to focus on the themes of the book when I'm working so hard to understand what's being said.
Speaking of themes, there are so many I could touch on. Holy cow, does Faulkner speak on a lot of ideas and concepts, and I can see when he is so studied. Any student could have a field day with his work.
Speaking of themes, there are so many I could touch on. Holy cow, does Faulkner speak on a lot of ideas and concepts, and I can see when he is so studied. Any student could have a field day with his work.
He touches on race, wealth, marriage, feminism, societal expectations, and so much more. I'm not going to delve into each of these topics because a full-fledged essay could be written for each. I will say that this helped me appreciate the novel all the more. There is so much to be said about every character Faulkner created, and that doesn't always happen. Even the minor characters aren't actually minor characters and either play a crucial role or present a crucial theme/idea throughout.
I find it very interesting that when Faulkner's characters converse with each other, they all sound like country bumpkins, not very educated, working to put bread on the table, and just getting through the day to day. But then, a character is left alone and has pages of the most beautiful thoughts, where they're pondering deep questions and the idea of world peace while quoting Keats. This creates some tension for me because I can't figure out what kind of people they actually are. They must be intelligent and worldly and full of thought and philosophy. But when we hear them talk together, they sound like such simpletons.
Then ending of this book is just so sad, but I guess I shouldn't have expected otherwise given the characters and their behavior. It is an ending that did not leave me feeling content, rather, I finished the book feeling anxious, restless, and unsatisfied. But I guess that's Faulkner for you.
Friday, March 9, 2018
E is for Emma: Jane Austen
I frequently say that Jane Austen is my favorite author, but it took me 22 years to read all the way through Emma, which I'm ashamed to admit. I'm very disappointed in myself for waiting that long, as it's a fantastic novel, which shouldn't be surprising considering Austen's talent.
I firstly must say, poor, poor Harriet. She just has disappointment after disappointment, and it's hard not to blame that on Emma herself, leading and encouraging Harriet away from and towards the wrong men. But Harriet is often described as insensible and foolish, which can be seen in the way she easily follows Emma's advice, even when she longs for a different direction. But it works out for her 400 pages later. It just makes for a sad novel, when focusing solely on Harriet. Mr. Knightley does well to discourage the friendship.
Speaking of, I truly adore Mr. Knightley. I tried to decide who I like better between Knightley and Darcy, but I can't. I like how Knightley is basically perfect from beginning to end. He never has moments where characters are shown his arrogance and pride as does Darcy. But part of Darcy's appeal, I think is that he is so unlovable in the beginning. Therefore, I'm giving them a tie. Knightley is so perfect for Emma, and this can be seen in the very beginning in the way he teaches, lectures, and quite simply, adores her. Emma is just a bit foolheaded to wait 400 pages to realize her affections for him. She had ample opportunity to realize what they could be, but I suppose, had she realized it sooner, Austen wouldn't have written a novel at all, and then where would we be?
I don't care for Churchill at all. And I'm not sure if we're supposed to or not. Had Emma been less sensible and clever, she could have ended up heartbroken, and Knightley would have had to wait until she had healed to pursue her. Fortunately, Emma is sensible and doesn't fall for his tricks. He is simply a scoundrel, and I don't understand how Jane can love him. Even after the engagement is announced, I don't believe Austen provides enough of his "good" side to help me appreciate the character that Churchill is.
I also wanted to touch on Miss Bates. Austen does such a great job with her utter nonsense or vomiting of words. I must confess that I skimmed and skipped a great many of her ramblings. I apologize to Austen for admitting that, but I don't think she would have blamed me. If it was something important, I think Austen would have someone more respectable say it, so I don't think I missed much by avoiding the pages of commentary by Miss Bates.
All in all, I loved Emma. Part of my affection for the novel might have come from me seeing the 1995 movie version with Gwyneth Paltrow: one of my favorite movies. I at first tried to dispel those actors from my mind as I read the novel, but I decided I liked the way they played their characters too well to completely forget about them, and I think it was nice to have a movie playing in my head as I read the novel.
I firstly must say, poor, poor Harriet. She just has disappointment after disappointment, and it's hard not to blame that on Emma herself, leading and encouraging Harriet away from and towards the wrong men. But Harriet is often described as insensible and foolish, which can be seen in the way she easily follows Emma's advice, even when she longs for a different direction. But it works out for her 400 pages later. It just makes for a sad novel, when focusing solely on Harriet. Mr. Knightley does well to discourage the friendship.
Speaking of, I truly adore Mr. Knightley. I tried to decide who I like better between Knightley and Darcy, but I can't. I like how Knightley is basically perfect from beginning to end. He never has moments where characters are shown his arrogance and pride as does Darcy. But part of Darcy's appeal, I think is that he is so unlovable in the beginning. Therefore, I'm giving them a tie. Knightley is so perfect for Emma, and this can be seen in the very beginning in the way he teaches, lectures, and quite simply, adores her. Emma is just a bit foolheaded to wait 400 pages to realize her affections for him. She had ample opportunity to realize what they could be, but I suppose, had she realized it sooner, Austen wouldn't have written a novel at all, and then where would we be?
I don't care for Churchill at all. And I'm not sure if we're supposed to or not. Had Emma been less sensible and clever, she could have ended up heartbroken, and Knightley would have had to wait until she had healed to pursue her. Fortunately, Emma is sensible and doesn't fall for his tricks. He is simply a scoundrel, and I don't understand how Jane can love him. Even after the engagement is announced, I don't believe Austen provides enough of his "good" side to help me appreciate the character that Churchill is.
I also wanted to touch on Miss Bates. Austen does such a great job with her utter nonsense or vomiting of words. I must confess that I skimmed and skipped a great many of her ramblings. I apologize to Austen for admitting that, but I don't think she would have blamed me. If it was something important, I think Austen would have someone more respectable say it, so I don't think I missed much by avoiding the pages of commentary by Miss Bates.
All in all, I loved Emma. Part of my affection for the novel might have come from me seeing the 1995 movie version with Gwyneth Paltrow: one of my favorite movies. I at first tried to dispel those actors from my mind as I read the novel, but I decided I liked the way they played their characters too well to completely forget about them, and I think it was nice to have a movie playing in my head as I read the novel.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
D is for Diary of an Oxygen Thief: Anonymous
I'm afraid I might have entirely missed the point of this novel. Frankly, I didn't see the point, but there must be one, because it's a bestseller.
It was quite easy to read through; overall I think it took me two hours to read. I appreciated the fact that there were only three chapters, because it forced me to finish it quickly. I would sit down and make myself read an entire chapter, so I finished it in three bursts.
I didn't like the main character. He starts out as a sadist and never really changes. His heart was broken, so he decides to break all other hearts in the world, one at a time. The whole novel consists of him explaining how he broke hearts and complaining about everything: the amazing job he got, the girl he fell in love with and broke his heart, the weather in Minnesota. It was just annoying to read all of his complaints. I suppose that's the point of a diary, so perhaps the fault there is mine.
I didn't particularly like the writing style. First of all, it was very difficult to figure out the order of the novel. The narrator often switches between past and present (or at least I think he does?) without any description or pause for the benefit of the readers. It's just really hard to keep track of where we are in time.
At what I thought was the climax of the novel, the narrator switches from first to second person point of view, and I really didn't like this. To throw such a change on readers at such an important part of the novel was frustrating to me. I was trying to keep up with his narration and then I had to switch points of view.
The narrator also digresses way too often: I'm sure this happens on every page. That in itself is difficult to get through but then the narrator continually apologizes for getting off subject and there's a great show of him trying to get back on track, which is just so muddy and difficult to trudge through. Maybe this is for comedic relief or something, but I didn't see the humor in it.
I did make myself think about what it means that the narrator is an "Oxygen Thief." At first, I thought he was stealing the oxygen of all the women whose hearts he broke. But then it became much more clear to see that he was stealing his own oxygen. Nothing is going the way he wants it to go in his life, and I think it's his doing: partially because of his own attitude, but also due to his laziness, his lack of self-control, and his general dislike for everything. Of course he has no oxygen. He's sucking everything out of the world leaving nothing for himself.
I can't decide if I'll read the rest in the series. I think the novel ended well. I should also mention that I find it very difficult to feel sorry for him at all in the end. He made it sound like he knew what was going on the whole time, and he had several occasions to end things, but he didn't. It wasn't necessarily his fault, but I do think he could have changed his story. When I'm done with my reading challenge this year, I might return to the series to see if anything changes in future books.
It was quite easy to read through; overall I think it took me two hours to read. I appreciated the fact that there were only three chapters, because it forced me to finish it quickly. I would sit down and make myself read an entire chapter, so I finished it in three bursts.
I didn't like the main character. He starts out as a sadist and never really changes. His heart was broken, so he decides to break all other hearts in the world, one at a time. The whole novel consists of him explaining how he broke hearts and complaining about everything: the amazing job he got, the girl he fell in love with and broke his heart, the weather in Minnesota. It was just annoying to read all of his complaints. I suppose that's the point of a diary, so perhaps the fault there is mine.
I didn't particularly like the writing style. First of all, it was very difficult to figure out the order of the novel. The narrator often switches between past and present (or at least I think he does?) without any description or pause for the benefit of the readers. It's just really hard to keep track of where we are in time.
At what I thought was the climax of the novel, the narrator switches from first to second person point of view, and I really didn't like this. To throw such a change on readers at such an important part of the novel was frustrating to me. I was trying to keep up with his narration and then I had to switch points of view.
The narrator also digresses way too often: I'm sure this happens on every page. That in itself is difficult to get through but then the narrator continually apologizes for getting off subject and there's a great show of him trying to get back on track, which is just so muddy and difficult to trudge through. Maybe this is for comedic relief or something, but I didn't see the humor in it.
I did make myself think about what it means that the narrator is an "Oxygen Thief." At first, I thought he was stealing the oxygen of all the women whose hearts he broke. But then it became much more clear to see that he was stealing his own oxygen. Nothing is going the way he wants it to go in his life, and I think it's his doing: partially because of his own attitude, but also due to his laziness, his lack of self-control, and his general dislike for everything. Of course he has no oxygen. He's sucking everything out of the world leaving nothing for himself.
I can't decide if I'll read the rest in the series. I think the novel ended well. I should also mention that I find it very difficult to feel sorry for him at all in the end. He made it sound like he knew what was going on the whole time, and he had several occasions to end things, but he didn't. It wasn't necessarily his fault, but I do think he could have changed his story. When I'm done with my reading challenge this year, I might return to the series to see if anything changes in future books.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
C is for A Clockwork Orange: Anthony Burgess
Is it better to have goodness forced upon you, or is it better to be able to choose to be bad? That's the question Burgess presents in this story of Alex, the main character. And this book made me think about which was is better. As a society, we like to think that goodness is obviously the better choice, but as you can see through Alex, who becomes capable of only goodness, that can't work as easily as we'd like it to.
The language was a difficult barrier for me, but after the first part of the book, I was able to really get into the story and I forgot about the difficulty of the language. I found too that even though I didn't understand all of the terms, it wasn't necessary for me to have a glossary or anything because if I couldn't figure it out myself, I didn't need to understand.
I remember talking to my husband as I read the first few chapters, and he and I were both appalled by what I was reading. The things Alex and his droogies did in this first part is really horrible, and yet, as I was reading, they seemed completely natural. This made me think about how neutral I am to crime now because of society. Crime is romanticized and dramatized and made normal through books and television, which is actually a really scary thing to consider. The actions in the first part are truly horrifying, yet I found myself laughing at some of the lines in the midst of the violence. That was a weird feeling, but Burgess manages to bring humor into the horror to make it seem more natural or human.
Alex himself is a very confusing character. He's only 15 when the book begins, and yet he and his friends have done some of the worst things I've known a human to do. At 15 years of age. Then, he turns around and smacks Dim because of his lack of manners. What? Manners are important to this guy who beats up anyone who crosses his path just for fun and rapes any girl or woman he sees? He's concerned about his muscle having proper manners? I also don't understand his fascination with classical music. How can he so easily see the beauty of Mozart and Beethoven, but fail to see any beauty or value in the life of a human being? That's a question I never got answered, and I might just have to figure it out on my own.
The captivating portion of this book really starts about halfway through part 2 for me, when Alex is presented with this new view of correcting criminals: "The new view is that we turn the bad into the good" (p. 104). They're going to eradicate Alex of all of his bad, to the point where he is capable of only doing good.
Burgess brings up so many good questions in this last half, mostly surrounding the question of free will. Is it better to choose bad than to be forced to do good? What makes a man good? If a man is incapable of committing bad, is he good? Can you cure a man of "bad?"
This was an excellent novel: excellent and horrifying. Is this what our future holds? Will future teenagers behave like Alex at the beginning? I pray not. If this is the case, how will we, as a society, handle this crime?
One thing I also wanted to touch on was the last chapter. When first published, the last chapter wasn't included, and I can understand why. I think it is so much more powerful to end on the previous chapter with Alex's cure. In my opinion, adding that last chapter takes away from the true purpose of the novel, and dissolves the impact that the final line could have on the novel: "I was cured all right" (p. 199). However, I'm sure Burgess had a reason for including that chapter, and as the author, I believe he knows best.
The language was a difficult barrier for me, but after the first part of the book, I was able to really get into the story and I forgot about the difficulty of the language. I found too that even though I didn't understand all of the terms, it wasn't necessary for me to have a glossary or anything because if I couldn't figure it out myself, I didn't need to understand.
I remember talking to my husband as I read the first few chapters, and he and I were both appalled by what I was reading. The things Alex and his droogies did in this first part is really horrible, and yet, as I was reading, they seemed completely natural. This made me think about how neutral I am to crime now because of society. Crime is romanticized and dramatized and made normal through books and television, which is actually a really scary thing to consider. The actions in the first part are truly horrifying, yet I found myself laughing at some of the lines in the midst of the violence. That was a weird feeling, but Burgess manages to bring humor into the horror to make it seem more natural or human.
Alex himself is a very confusing character. He's only 15 when the book begins, and yet he and his friends have done some of the worst things I've known a human to do. At 15 years of age. Then, he turns around and smacks Dim because of his lack of manners. What? Manners are important to this guy who beats up anyone who crosses his path just for fun and rapes any girl or woman he sees? He's concerned about his muscle having proper manners? I also don't understand his fascination with classical music. How can he so easily see the beauty of Mozart and Beethoven, but fail to see any beauty or value in the life of a human being? That's a question I never got answered, and I might just have to figure it out on my own.
The captivating portion of this book really starts about halfway through part 2 for me, when Alex is presented with this new view of correcting criminals: "The new view is that we turn the bad into the good" (p. 104). They're going to eradicate Alex of all of his bad, to the point where he is capable of only doing good.
Burgess brings up so many good questions in this last half, mostly surrounding the question of free will. Is it better to choose bad than to be forced to do good? What makes a man good? If a man is incapable of committing bad, is he good? Can you cure a man of "bad?"
This was an excellent novel: excellent and horrifying. Is this what our future holds? Will future teenagers behave like Alex at the beginning? I pray not. If this is the case, how will we, as a society, handle this crime?
One thing I also wanted to touch on was the last chapter. When first published, the last chapter wasn't included, and I can understand why. I think it is so much more powerful to end on the previous chapter with Alex's cure. In my opinion, adding that last chapter takes away from the true purpose of the novel, and dissolves the impact that the final line could have on the novel: "I was cured all right" (p. 199). However, I'm sure Burgess had a reason for including that chapter, and as the author, I believe he knows best.
Sunday, January 14, 2018
B is for The Blue Flower: Penelope Fitzgerald
I had a very difficult time with this book. I was struggling to find a book that started with "B," as per my Reading Challenge, and Google recommended this one to me. From what I gathered in reviews on this book, it is very important and a masterpiece. I couldn't quite agree with that.
The novel opens with this pair of college friends, Fritz (who we later find out is the main character) and his friend Dietmahler. Dietmahler is visiting Fritz's home for the first time. Fitzgerald talks about this visit for the first three or four chapters, and then suddenly focuses solely on Fritz, without any conclusion on Dietmahler's visit. Up until this seemingly random switch, it seemed Dietmahler would be the main character, the one who's journey we would be following. That is not the case.
We then follow Fritz on his journey to find the Blue Flower, as he wrote in his story of the same name. I didn't find any suggestions as to what the Blue Flower was, so I allowed myself to draw my own conclusions: perhaps Sophie or her youth, as he is striving for the entire rest of the book to win Sophie and ultimately marry her. This proves impossible with her death in the end, proving that the Blue Flower is unattainable.
About 60% of the way through the novel, we return to Dietmahler's visit for a few sentences, but again forego him for Fritz and his search of the Blue Flower.
We do receive more mention of Dietmahler as Sophie becomes increasingly sick and her family seeks help and a cure for her. He comes into the picture again, but doesn't really play a major role. This was confusing and off-putting to me because of the emphasis he received in the beginning. I must need to go back and re-read the beginning in the context of the whole novel and perhaps it will make more sense to me.
I wasn't all that fond of the writing style either. This was my first Fitzgerald novel, so I might need to read more of her works before I draw a full conclusion towards her writing, but I found myself often drifting from the story because her writing was not at all engaging to me. I was bogged down by the way she wrote and had to work really hard to keep going.
Over all, I would not recommend this book, but perhaps that's because I didn't understand the moral or the point or appreciate the beauty. Maybe after I finish my 2018 reading challenge, I can give the book another chance, turning to other reviews and studies to maybe understand more of what Fitzgerald was doing. I'm not deterred or disappointed in my inability to understand The Blue Flower, because I know I don't need to understand everything I read.
The novel opens with this pair of college friends, Fritz (who we later find out is the main character) and his friend Dietmahler. Dietmahler is visiting Fritz's home for the first time. Fitzgerald talks about this visit for the first three or four chapters, and then suddenly focuses solely on Fritz, without any conclusion on Dietmahler's visit. Up until this seemingly random switch, it seemed Dietmahler would be the main character, the one who's journey we would be following. That is not the case.
We then follow Fritz on his journey to find the Blue Flower, as he wrote in his story of the same name. I didn't find any suggestions as to what the Blue Flower was, so I allowed myself to draw my own conclusions: perhaps Sophie or her youth, as he is striving for the entire rest of the book to win Sophie and ultimately marry her. This proves impossible with her death in the end, proving that the Blue Flower is unattainable.
About 60% of the way through the novel, we return to Dietmahler's visit for a few sentences, but again forego him for Fritz and his search of the Blue Flower.
We do receive more mention of Dietmahler as Sophie becomes increasingly sick and her family seeks help and a cure for her. He comes into the picture again, but doesn't really play a major role. This was confusing and off-putting to me because of the emphasis he received in the beginning. I must need to go back and re-read the beginning in the context of the whole novel and perhaps it will make more sense to me.
I wasn't all that fond of the writing style either. This was my first Fitzgerald novel, so I might need to read more of her works before I draw a full conclusion towards her writing, but I found myself often drifting from the story because her writing was not at all engaging to me. I was bogged down by the way she wrote and had to work really hard to keep going.
Over all, I would not recommend this book, but perhaps that's because I didn't understand the moral or the point or appreciate the beauty. Maybe after I finish my 2018 reading challenge, I can give the book another chance, turning to other reviews and studies to maybe understand more of what Fitzgerald was doing. I'm not deterred or disappointed in my inability to understand The Blue Flower, because I know I don't need to understand everything I read.
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