The Orange Eats Creeps by Grace Krilanovich (172 pages)
Counternarratives by John Keene (304 pages)
The Lesser Bohemians by Eimear McBride (310 pages)
Persuasion by Jane Austen (249 pages)
The Waves by Virginia Woolf (213 pages)
Child of God by Cormac McCarthy (197 pages)
Exile and the Kingdom by Albert Camus (166 pages)
+ Man Booker 2017 Shortlist
I am really conflicted.
After reading The Handmaid’s Tale in two sittings, I should like it right? Its not like I rushed through, racing to the end because it was so awful I wanted it to be over. Nor did it drag to the point that I didn’t feel like reading it. Despite that, I just cannot recommend this book, as it felt like Atwood wasn’t sure of what she was going for herself.
The narrator of this dystopic (yes, it is set in a dystopia Margaret Atwood, and not some gray region between feminist and science fiction like she purports) novel is Offred, a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead – she has children for higher up officials whose wives cannot. And I hate Offred. As a main character, she is incredibly passive, and has to wait for things to happen, either around her, or to her. Her passivity isn’t even a contributor to the central idea of female subordination, but rather a supporter and shining example of it. Unless one would argue that Atwood was going for that, and I think is definitely stretching it. If Atwood was really trying to condemn it, then this whole set-up fails on its own terms – why should Offred even be given that sort of ending, no matter how you interpret it? It makes absolutely no sense (I have to be vague to avoid spoilers).
Another thing that annoys me is the supposed difference between Gilead and the world before it. Apart from obvious differences like what the role of women were, any real “emotional” difference was completely lost. If the previous world was so great and free, then why does it feel exactly like the current world? And the whole way Handmaids were selected was completely impractical (I will not say it for spoilers, but I will leave it at, the rulers of Gilead obviously had too much time on their hands). Take for example – Offred and Luke’s relationship before Gilead. It is supposed to be one of love right? I never even felt any true love between the two of them. In fact it felt exactly like Offred and any other male character in the whole story. The whole facade of “look how terrible this new work is” falls apart right here. If the old world feels exactly like the new, then the message loses all significance.
I am definitely in the minority, as both readers online, and friends I have love this book. My problems lie with Offred as a narrator (there are about five other choices that would make for a much more interesting read; for example, a book with the point of view from the wife of one of those higher up officials would have been a lot more fascinating. As Atwood herself points out, the role of a Handmaid isn’t really unique to Gilead. In fact, anywhere where people have multiple partners could be seen in a similar light (see: Since the beginning of life)), and as such, I cannot recommend this book, save for maybe its compulsive readability and sometimes nice passages.
2 Stars
I’m back? Who knows at this point…
I do have some reasons as to why I stopped writing/posting: AP testing, general stress, and much needed time to reorient and assess my priorities going forward. At this point, I think I am approaching a good balance, and at least for the summer time, I can use this site as an outlet for my thoughts on the books I have consumed, with some surface-level analysis of some stuff I read – other than that, one can expect the occasional rant/review. Also, all of my other pages are outdated, and I have no idea of when or if I will ever “fix” them, but I am so fickle that even if I did, I would probably have to change it each time I took a 4 month hiatus.
As for the actual purpose of this post, I am going over the books that I read in the first part of the month of June. I’m somewhat satisfied with what I had read, though the actual reading was heavily focused in the middle two weeks, and overall it was sporadic. Basically, I read nonstop sometimes, and then would stop for a really long stretch of time. Remind you of any of my other habits?
The books are in the approximate chronological order that I read them, though standout(s) will be in the second part
Missing Persons by Patrick Modiano
Background: Originally released in France in 1978, this particular Modiano novel was re-released and translated following Modiano being awarded the 2014 Nobel Prize in Literature. In fact, several of his other works were also translated, but I read this one for two reasons. The first was that my public library actually had a copy, and the second was that this one seemed rather well received in Modiano’s native country (it won Prix Goncourt, which is a prestigious award for French prose-fiction).
My thoughts: Ehhh it was decent, but I feel that Modiano (or the translator) has not shown me how the Swedish committee made the final decision. Not that Modiano isn’t a capable writer, but in terms of storytelling, Missing Persons dragged, with parts of the plot falling into place too conveniently, and certain threads were cut off before they could adequately develop. Still recommended if you can accept/ignore that though.
Rating: 3 Stars – I only fell asleep like two times and rolled my eyes like 5 times! Just kidding! Not really.
Ready Player One by Ernest Cline
I feel as if I will get hate for how I felt about Cline’s debut novel. I am sorry, but I did not enjoy Ready Player One to the extent that the community as a whole seemed to. Certain elements of writing and setting made the whole story feel incredibly unrealistic (not in terms of technology, but logic; people are starving everywhere but we still have the resources to create, distribute, and maintain this worldwide MMO. Hmmm makes completely sense!). I felt the “charming 80’s references” were just name drops at best, and I could very easily tell that it was a debut novel (loss of focus at times, and author did not have completely confidence). I also did not remember the main character’s name until I saw the Goodreads summary. Not that it was horrible, but I think that this was another over-hyped reads.
Rating: 1.5 Stars – The solution to worldwide starvation is to create a world where people can play out unrealistic lives in a completely unrealistic setup! Oh wait, isn’t that the paradigm of first world citizens in the 21st century? (No offense intended, as I am an unapologetic 21st century first world citizen)
This One Summer by Mariko and Jillian Tamaki
Background: Published at the very beginning of 2014, this graphic novel was created by a team of cousins who also created “Skim”. This particular story garnered quite a bit of recognition, among which included the 2015 Caldecott Honor, and a 2015 Printz nomination. It is particularly noted for its blue hues and tone, along with the poignancy of how it showcased the struggles of growing up.
My Thoughts: First off, great art and use of color to match and complement the mood and atmosphere. The story is about Rose’s annual family getaway to Awago Beach. This year’s trip is a little different than usual, as Rose is growing up, and is finally starting to realize how the world fits together, and how she has to adapt, learn, and grow. That being said, there were several clichés that really interrupted the flow of the story (hint hint, most clichés don’t really exist in the real world, which sort of astounds me how many authors continue to saturate their “realistic fiction” writing with them). After introducing all of these interesting threads and leads, the Tamaki duo took the story down a well-worn path, and ultimately the easier one. Instead of resolving conflict or heightening it to increase tension, all of the stories seemed to almost compress into a common thread of “responsibility”. While that is an important and relevant themes, I would argue that it has been done too many times, making This One Summer into an unoriginal story elevated by excellent art.
Ooh ahh the pretty colors
Rating: 2.5 Stars (Minus a star if not for the art) – Also disappointed…
A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen
First published in 1879, A Doll’s House is well known for the reaction it extracted from its initial audience, leading Ibsen to write a second ending to quell the outcry. I love controversy around books because it usually means it addresses societal issues, and in this case, it addressed the constrictive marriage during the Victorian era.
I really wanted to love this one. Like a lot. By the end of the second act, it was hovering around 4 stars, but the third act happened. I will not spoil what happened, but it angered me. I believe that the 3rd act completely deflated the buoyancy of the first two. I will leave it at it used the thing I hate most in classics (See: Brave New World, War and Peace, etc.) – the philosophical monologue/dialogue. I hate this device as it takes all of the fun out of reading fiction – if I wanted someone to spit that stuff at me point blank, I would be reading a philosophy textbook, not fiction. Also, the character actions were completely unsupported by their personalities.
Rating: 2.5ish (3.75 without the third act) – just read the first two acts ignore the abomination that is the third act.
Never Fade by Alexandra Bracken
I got a couple hundred pages in, but it had been so long since I had read the Darkest Minds I was completely confused. It was enjoyable from what I had read, but I couldn’t remember anything about any of the characters, much less what happened.
DNF
If on a Winter’s Night A Traveler by Italo Calvino
I am sorry for those of you who are fans of this work, but I despised Calvino’s novel. I found the whole thing pointless – there was nothing to glean, nothing to learn. Not to mention, Calvino felt extremely arrogant throughout the whole thing…You have recently purchased Calvino’s latest book, and you are extremely excited to dig in. You remove all distractions blah blah blah look how great I am, and look at my ego inflated by all the critics whose role in life is to inflate it even further. Marketed as an ingenuity of “postmodernism”, I cannot help but wonder if they have read real postmodern masterpieces like Pale Fire or A Visit from the Goon Squad. Terrible, terrible, terrible, do not waste your time with this pretentious pile of crap. Calvino’s writing isn’t even that great.
Rating: 1 Star (I would give 0 stars if possible) – why was this even published.
Alright, that was part 1! Part 2 should be up either tomorrow or the day after, along with some extra things I have planned.
Well, not really, but I will go through some of the things that stood out for me. It should also be noteworthy to mention that even if my opinions of the book were … less than satisfactory, I can still appreciate what he was going for. Or so I think. Oh well – this is the last post (I swear) that I will be writing about this book, so this horrid affair will soon be over. LET’S END IT (contains spoilers, proceed at your own risk)
The Internal and Interpersonal Conflicts
Theme: We can go to extreme measures to protect those that we love because having something to cherish in turns makes ourselves have greater strength, even if it means tearing down those around us.
Basically for the whole book, Faulkner uses his characters and specific motifs to develop this theme – but where it really comes out is the incestuous emotions of Quentin. His crazed obsessions with Caddy is perverse, but at the same time, is reflective of how much he loves her, and how willing he is to keep her “pure”. His therefore “pure” intent is actually what causes one of the major rifts in the family. Him being sent off to Harvard was not just a move to improve the family standing, but also an attempt to remove him from the toxic Southern environment. Except, we learn that the North is even more toxic.
On the other hand, we have Benjy’s love for Caddy – one that isn’t incestuous, but more of a son-mother variety. Caddy is often described as cradling Benjy, and she is often one of the few that can calm his fits. Ironically, it is these fits that become a binding staple of the story. The recurring motif is what brings things back into focus, particularly in later sections when parts of the plot being to unravel. Back to the theme, one can also interpret Benjy’s moans as a way of him protecting Caddy – not dissimilar from Quentin’s incestuous claims. Faulkner also makes references to how Benjy is quiet whenever Caddy smells like “leaves”. In the end, I still never got what he was going for.
Contrary to all of this, is Jason’s supposed lack of love – his apathetic views of the world, and how much he despairs about the incompetency of those around him. That said, I think that this is actually his way of revealing love, and in a way, by rejecting the things he cherish, he is protecting himself. We actually never get to see Jason’s inner thoughts, unlike how we are privy to Benjy and Quentin, and perhaps Faulkner was aiming at something significant here. In fact, Jason realizes the second half of the theme, in which he tears down those around him, to ultimately protect them (in a strange roundabout fashion). But maybe that is the complexity of life, all wrapped up in a torturous 321 pages.
Warning: This post will contain spoilers for The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner.
Essentially this post will be me picking apart my predictions and impressions of the novel now that I have finished it in its entirety.
Here is my predictions post if you feel so inclined to follow along.
Expectation 1. Okay so I had hoped that this book would join All the King’s Men and To Kill A Mockingbird (and by extension Bastard Out of Carolina) in the ranks as my favorite Southern literature.
Reality 1. This is my least favorite book of the year so far. I am going to have to read more Southerns (Beloved is staring at me from my shelf) to reaffirm my love for the genre.
Expectation 2. Incestuous vibe.
Reality 2. Check (see chapter 2 in case you missed the whole passages of Quentin [the guy] going on and on about Caddy)
Expectation 3. Benjy has some issues stringing thoughts together.
Reality 3. Yeah, but contrary to what I had thought, I grew to love his perspective.
Expectation 4. Quentin has some mental scars from childhood.
Reality 4. This is a bit iffy because it is never clear in his section (or latter sections for that matter), though the way he thinks, and the topics he thinks about are a bit reflective of some kind of scarring. Verdict: Inconclusive.
Expectation 5. Jason is a sadist.
Reality 5. I hit the bull’s eye on this one – someone give me a prize!
Expectation 6. Dilsey is Calpurnia.
Reality 6. If we are referring to Cal from the movie, then yes; but if we are talking about the book Cal, the no.
Expectation 7. Faulkner is an amazing writer.
Reality 7. Well, this is true sometimes.
Expectation 8. “The Meaning Behind the Title” – a metaphysical storm of human emotions, the backlash of the community.
Reality 8. Actually pretty accurate; there was a “metaphysical storm of human emotions”, particularly in the first 2 chapters, with the backlash being a very present part of the latter half of the novel.
If you have seen any of my Chapter reviews, then you will basically know my thoughts and how they went from being impressed to spiraling down into the pits of literary despair. I really wanted to like this book. I had personally expected it to be a five star book after the first chapter, but after those first 75 pages, my expectations fell lower and lower until they hit rock bottom – this is probably the lowest score I have ever given a book that I finished. Sorry Faulkner, I tried, I really did.
Meet your typical decaying family (I will try my best not to divulge any spoilers): you have the dad who is always drunk; the mom who only really likes one of her children and thinks the rest are punishments for her sins; the aforementioned children, one of which is mentally challenged, another is promiscuous, and another who yearns for forbidden love, yet another one, cold and calculating; they are served by a host of black servants, who seem to lead the majority of their lives as servants (they only get breaks to go to Church on holidays). I may sound quite critical, but I am really unmotivated to talk about characters that I did not care about at all. If anything, I would like to erase them from my memory. Each of their actions didn’t make any logical sense, and a lot of important things about them were left in the shadows. It wasn’t the stumbling that was apparently throughout The Outsiders, but more of a personal opinion – I just really didn’t like them, though if one were to look at them from a development perspective, they are not quite as stunted as I have stated. That said, they are definitely not the epitome of fleshed-out complex characters.
This did not sit well with me at well – I do enjoy freedom of individual expression in writing, but Faulkner really took that to a whole new level, literally breaking the language – there is a reason we spell “I”, not “i”. Additionally, his “style” lacks a truly distinguishable quality like the writing of Nabokov or Hemingway; instead, it feels very “standard” (I am mainly referring to the third and fourth chapters). On the other hand, his style and writing is so bizarre in the first two chapters of The Sound and the Fury, I am not sure what to make of it exactly. On one hand, I was never very big on the whole “string-of-consciousness” thing that modernism loves, but then again I really did grow used to the first chapter, which is basically a meditation on exactly that. At this point, I would recommend reading the first chapter and seeing what you think, though I would advise stopping after that because past the initial greatness, I found a landmine of confusing phrases that ran so tightly that the descriptions began to blend and the events became indistinguishable. Then again, maybe this writing is a bit too “high-level” for me at this point, and perhaps if I revisited this text in two or three years, I would be able to recognize Faulkner’s “genius”. However, at this point, I cannot say that I particularly like it.
I grew to love the first chapter, but the remaining 245 pages fell short of my initial expectations. I would definitely recommend that everyone check out the first part, though I would not advise continuing on. At this point in time, I am willing to admit that perhaps trying to tackle this monstrosity was above my level, and that I am not to the point where I can appreciate it (I mean, Sartre loved it). Either that, or Faulkner’s tale of the dying South just didn’t sit well with me. Either way, I came out of this novel gasping for air, and relieved that it was finished.
Overall: F or 0.53/5 Stars
Character/Setting (30%): 0.6
Writing (35%): 0.5
Story (25%): 0.7
Enjoyment (10%): 0.0
Warning: There are spoilers for The Sound and the Fury.
P.S. The following is really just a big rant, so if you don’t like that sort of thing, I would not proceed if I were you.
FINALLY FINISHED – that was the most arduous and painful 321 pages I have ever read. I will have a full review up later, but this post is going to be specifically about the last part of the last chapter.
Okay, so I didn’t hate this section as much the ones before it, but I really didn’t think it was necessary. Also, the previous sections made me not care about this section at all, and so the way I read it probably left less time for criticism in my head. Although I think that even if I did slow down, I still would not enjoy this at all. Faulkner what a a disappointment you have been. At least The Great Gatsby had a decent ending – you didn’t even really have that. Sorry, but I don’t think anything after page 75 is even worth a fraction of a second of someone’s time.
Before this post turns into an angry rant, I have to clarify that his writing was better than it was for the first section of Chapter 4, but at that point, it really isn’t saying that much. Okay, complaining is about to resume.
Great, Quentin ran away – I am sure NONE OF US saw that one coming. Also, Faulkner introduced her in such a way that I never really cared for her – he tried to use her lack of self-respect as a means of developing her situation and Jason, but in the end, all it did was just make me annoyed. Dilsey turned out to be a doormat, and Jason is just angry all the time. Though the more I read the last chapter, the angrier I got. Maybe Faulkner was going for that empathy in his writing, but I highly doubt that.
Well, I guess that is the about 10% of what I have to say about this section is out there, though if I had a lot of time, I would probably rant more to someone (I think I have a list forming of people who would agree with me). My complete and final thoughts will be in a review that should be up in a few minutes.
FREE AT LAST
Warning: Contains spoilers for the first half of Chapter 4.
April Eighth, 1928
Dilsey from the movie. Though this is also my expression whenever I read this book – “PLEASE LET IT BE OVER SOON, GOD SAVE ME”
If listening to Brahms and Elgar violin sonatas while reading can’t make me like a book, then I have nothing left that will convince me that The Sound and the Fury deserves the praise that it gets. Maybe I am too young/not mature enough to appreciate it, but the more I read of it, the closer it heads towards the “F/1 Star” region. Sorry Faulkner, but you have joined the list of authors that I find overrated.
The ironic thing is that I really like the first paragraph of this section:
“The day dawned bleak and chill, a moving wall of gray light out of the northeast which, instead of dissolving into moisture, seemed to disintegrate into minute and venomous particles, like dust that, when Dilsey opened the door of the cabin and emerged, needled laterally into her flesh precipitating not so much a moisture as a substance partaking of the quality of thin, not quite congealed oil. She worse a stiff black straw hat perched upon her turban, and a maroon velvet cape with a border of mangy and anonymous fur above a dress of purple silk, and she stood in the door for a while with her myriad and sunken face lifted to the weather, and one gaunt hand flac-soled as the belly of a fish, then she moved the cape aside and examined the bosom of her gown.”
-Faulkner, 265
It reminded my of Morrison meets Warren, though the next few pages quickly distinguished any flicker of hope of that fusion ever occurring in this quickly dying work. The Southern dialogue soon took on a Mark Twain aka evoking a feeling of “Is this even English?”. Plot-wise, this chapter was the continuation of the Jason-Quentin drama in the previous chapter, though now it is 3rd person, and mainly focusing on Dilsey, the black servant of the Compson. As the first section in 3rd person, I must say that Faulkner should stay away from it – the way the point of view is set up, it strips him of any individuality he had in 1st person, and soon the prose becomes quite typical and exactly what one would expect from your stereotypical Southern novel. That is basically what made me like the first section of this novel, and by now, I am only reading because I have like 25 pages left. But I am hating every moment of it – this hatred is slowly spreading to the point where I find Benjy annoying (I never thought that would happen after how much I ended up liking his perspective) and now I feel every page turn is tedious. I can’t wait for this torture to be over.
This post contains spoilers for The Sound and the Fury through the third chapter.
My thoughts about Part 2 are pretty much the same as the first part, and out of all of the sections, I have decided that this one is my least favorite. I didn’t even like chapter 2 that much, and as far as I am concerned, this whole book is slowly heading downhill (I would probably drop it, except I am almost finished). The rest of Jason’s perspective wasn’t anything new or refreshing, and it felt like the whole section could have been cut out of the book, with no major detriment. Of course, he still has the same money “values”, and he loves tormenting people, and of course Quentin (the girl) is still rebellious. Isn’t ironic that the supposed “noble” side of the family is perhaps the least financially successful, and the least respected? Something to think about, especially if Faulkner is trying to make a statement about the Southern aristocracy.
In terms of the story, Quentin tried to become prostitute, and Jason lies to more people. His mother is still either blissfully unaware or willing to put up with his antics. At this point, a lot of the complexity has been forcibly simplified by Jason, who views everything with a glass eye. For the 85 pages he narrated, I wish he would have been more interesting and multi-faceted, but at least the last chapter is coming up! I am hoping that maybe the ending redeems the book, though it just might be in vain because of how much I am growing to dislike the whole set-up.
I THOUGHT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE EASIER TO UNDERSTAND AFTER MANCHILD BENJY.
Warning: This post will contain mild spoilers for The Sound and the Fury up through Chapter 2.
If you thought the first chapter was confusing, Quentin (the guy Quentin, not the girl; yes I know, how confusing) is one of the most discombobulated and chaotic narrators I have ever read. It was not like a dream-inducing prose like that of Jim Burden in All The King’s Men but rather a stream of horrid, endless thoughts:
one minute she was standing there the next he was yelling and pulling at her dress they went into the hall and up the stairs yelling and shoving at her up the stairs to the bathroom door and stopped her back against the door and her arm across her face yelling and trying to shove her into the bathroom when she came in to supper T.P. was feeding him he started again just whimpering at first until she touched him then he yelled she stood there her eyes like cornered rats then I was running in the gray darkness it smelled of rain and all flower scents the damp warm air released and crickets sawing away in the grass pacing me with a small travelling island of silence Fancy watched me across the fence blotchy like a quilt on a line I thought damn that nigger he forgot to feed her again I ran down the hill in that vacuum of crickets like a breath travelling across a mirror she was lying in the water her head on the sand spit the water flowing about her hips there was a little more light in the water her skirt half saturated flopped along her flanks to the waters motion in heavy ripples going nowhere renewed themselves of their own movement I stood on the bank I could smell the honeysuckle on the water gap te air seemed to drizzle with honeysuckle and with the rasping of crickets a substance you could feel on the flesh
is benjy crying
I dont know yes I dont know
poor benjy
– Faulkner, 149-150
This isn’t even the worst of it – he often mixes the past into present events, jumbling the viewer even more. He also mixes others’ thoughts into his own showing both reactions, giving me countless headaches.
As for what this chapter did for the story, I am actually quite pleased with the progression and development – we first find out that Quentin is at Harvard, among other interesting things. Some of the main things that revealed are the other family members’ feelings toward Benjy, in addition to some of the more “lucid” family interactions. Quentin is especially key here because while he is integral to the Compsons, he is the first narrator that is allowed to roam through society – it is even remarked several times how well he is received by his peers. This reveals the greater social climate beyond the internal family dynamics. His own pondering nature (probably why he is at Harvard) brings up really interesting metaphysical quotations, particularly regarding time and innocence – the “negative conundrum of virginity”. However, above all of that is perhaps his incestuous love for Caddy. While I do not think (sorry it was too jumbled for me to tell whether the love affair was there or not) it was physical, Quentin’s love for his sister shows a greater depth of the time. He consistently, even brazenly, remarks to his father of their incest, but his father (being experienced) recognizes that Quentin’s earnestly only shows that it his attempt to protect Caddy from other men. However, as we can see, Caddy has her own agenda – namely, to ensure that Benjy is not sent to Jackson, which requires her to attain individual sovereignty through marriage. Of course then there is the issue of their mother who wishes the best for her “children”, but only really cares about Jason, who is the only one who even resembles her, but don’t forget that some of Caddy’s suitors could make life better for Jason, oh but then Quentin hates him, so they fight. And don’t you dare forget about dying Uncle Maury, and we haven’t even gotten to all of the North/South drama in Boston. Yeah, basically this chapter makes the family and social drama complicated on a whole new and circuitous level. Interestingly, Quentin doesn’t make note of the Compsons’ black family servants in any significant vein – I hope we get more follow-up on this.
Well, if you could follow my thoughts on Chapter 2, it either means you read it and understood some fragment of it (like me), or you are just good at following my nonsense logic. Either way, I hope that Chapter 3 is a break from this linguistic insanity!
How I felt about this whole chapter.
strangertogravity 