I wish I could say I enjoyed this book more than I did. The premise is great, and the first half of the book was interesting. Dan Simmons captures theI wish I could say I enjoyed this book more than I did. The premise is great, and the first half of the book was interesting. Dan Simmons captures the isolation, desperation, and hopelessness that encroaches when stranded in the Arctic for the winter. Unfortunately, his characters weren't up to the task of carrying that burden, and the plot was even less robust.
The story eventually devolves into a spiritual, pseudo-mythological adventure in which the protagonist comes to accept that his own Eurocentric values aren't going to keep him alive in the inimical Arctic climate. Meanwhile, the eponymous ship is being stalked by a mysterious polar-bear-like creature (and this is where the book takes the mythological turn) that would definitely puzzle Linnaeus.
By the end of the book, I was alternately confused or disappointed by the actions of the protagonist, and I was just ready to put the book down and have a good cup of tea....more
The best part of the book was the theme, which Clair Messud does handle well. For that reason alone, I gave this book as a gift to a friend once, hopiThe best part of the book was the theme, which Clair Messud does handle well. For that reason alone, I gave this book as a gift to a friend once, hoping that even if I didn't enjoy it, she might like it.
Aside from that, this book has little to recommend it, unfortunately. It's a shame, because I really wanted to like it: it had interesting moments, little bits that I enjoyed. Overall, however, it was just ... lacklustre....more
First I read this book with curiosity and, I confess, not a little scepticism. Then I read this book with pleasure and even, perhaps, morbid anticipatFirst I read this book with curiosity and, I confess, not a little scepticism. Then I read this book with pleasure and even, perhaps, morbid anticipation. Finally, as I turned the last few pages and the book spoke to me of endings and new beginnings, I read this book with appreciation and wonder.
The Monsters of Templeton begins in a distracted, almost haphazard fashion, introducing the tangential plot of the lake monster's death even as we meet the protagonist, Wilhelmina "Wille" Upton. It took me some time to warm to her and her hippie-turned-born-again-Baptist mother, Vivienne, whom Willie addresses as Vi. When I first picked this book up off a library shelf, I wasn't sure how interesting it would be, but I borrowed it anyway. I don't regret that decision.
I soon fell in love with our heroine, who is just the right amount of feisty and reflective. She is not without flaws, her mother admonishing her as much as she admonishes her mom. Add to this the fact that Vi's dating her reverend and Willie's best friend, Clarissa, is suffering in San Francisco from lupus, and you have a veritable cast of zany characters--yet somehow, Lauren Groff makes it all work!
As Willie searches for the identity of her father, we learn about her family, and she learns more about herself. She confronts her pregnancy, the affair that led up to it, and forms new relationships with old acquaintances in her small hometown. Willie grows over the course of this book, and I enjoyed watching her development.
The parallel stories that Groff tells through the flashbacks and letters of Willie's ancestors aren't my favourite part of this book, but they serve a purpose and are interesting enough. Thanks to her excellent and varied voices, Groff manages to synthesize diverse perspectives that keep these sections interesting.
And lastly, there's the "Buds", the Running Buds, five men in late middle age who run around the town every morning, the town gossips, discussing their lives and the lives of everyone in Templeton. Groff inserts their opinions on events in the story, writing with the rhythm of a runner. These chapters serve to tie together the past and the present and put everything in perspective.
Set in and concerning a small town with a long history, The Monsters of Templeton is a touching story about family, growing up, and making choices. Groff manages to create a flawed but likable heroine and an even wackier mother. Unlike many books, which begin with a bang but peter out before reaching a satisfactory ending, this book comes to a calm and conclusive resolution that left me with the satisfaction comparable to eating a filling meal.
The Monsters of Templeton is a good read, and I'm glad I plucked it from the library shelf....more
This book began with a great deal of promise, but as I got to knew the characters, I liked it less and less.
Heidi Julavits demonstrates how one can avThis book began with a great deal of promise, but as I got to knew the characters, I liked it less and less.
Heidi Julavits demonstrates how one can avoid using quotation marks to indicate dialogue without confusing the reader, a lesson Ali Smith could stand to learn. The Uses of Enchantment is far superior to The Accidental in use of language and style to create a particular atmosphere and introduce the character. I enjoy how Julavits varies the chapters among "what might have happened," the notes of Mary's therapist, flashbacks, and present day events. Unlike The Delta, the periods in time are clearly separated, not confusing, and not annoying. Indeed, this book seems to employ two narrative devices used in other books I recently read and didn't much like, yet it does it so much better than those books.
Style aside, however, I didn't like this book as much as I thought I would. I empathize with Mary, who was either abducted and never properly counselled about it or engineered a fake abduction and never adjusted properly to society. But she spends most of the books complaining about how manipulative and narcissistic her mother was, and how she never got a chance to reconcile with her mother prior to her mother's death from cancer. Although the story spends a lot of time discussing therapy and Mary's experience with it, Mary never seems to have to exert much effort in her life or deal with any consequences (beyond her obvious estrangement from her family). She crashes a car, revisits the ghosts from her past, but at the end of the book, has she really changed from who she was at the beginning? No. And that was a disappointment....more
What originally began as a three-star book quickly became a four-star book as Fiona Buckley plunged me into a wonderful, immersive mystery set in ElizWhat originally began as a three-star book quickly became a four-star book as Fiona Buckley plunged me into a wonderful, immersive mystery set in Elizabethan England. This is my first Ursula Blanchard mystery, but I definitely want to read more. It has everything one could demand from a mystery: high stakes, complex antagonists, potential for tragedy, and a daring last-minute attempt to set things aright. Likewise, it satisfies my desire for a good piece of historical fiction into which I can sink my teeth. Elizabethan England is one of my favourite milieux, and Buckley captures the religious, political, and social turmoil from the perspective of an educated woman.
My first impression of the protagonist was that she complained far too much and could be a touch dramatic. But I enjoyed her frank evaluations of other people and her ability to plot and reason. Buckley handles the first person perspective well; Ursula provides tantalizing foreshadowing that made me turn page after page. Thanks to her narration, I empathized with her feelings regarding the plight of her ward and the plot to free Mary Stuart.
As for the mystery, it was very entertaining. Buckley manages to mix in just the right ratio of predictability to twists to keep me reading. Mysteries that are entirely too predictable are no fun. However, it's always nice to be able to see one or two things coming, heightening one's anticipation for the final confrontation.
And I certainly was not disappointed! The climax of this book was one of the most satisfying I've read in awhile. The protagonist pulls the "ol' switcheroo" while her ward is in danger, showing a commendable determination and strength of character. A couple of predictable developments and a few twists later, the story resolves and the mystery has been explained. I feel neither cheated nor patronized; in fact, it was an excellent ride....more
The flashback is the weakest of all foreshadowing, and it is the device that ruined this book for me. It's a shame too, because Thomas H. Cook uses otThe flashback is the weakest of all foreshadowing, and it is the device that ruined this book for me. It's a shame too, because Thomas H. Cook uses other foreshadowing as well--hints about the deadliest sin being pride, allusions to the consequences similar characters faced in great literary works. The flashbacks were confusing at best and disruptive to the pace of the story at worst. I don't mind so much if the entire story is a flashback set within a frame story, or if there are flashbacks to a single period of time. But in this case, Cook employs flashbacks to several different periods in the protagonist's life, and this detracted from my enjoyment of the book.
Most of the characters were flat, without much to recommend them. There are a few exceptions, of course--the main character is three-dimensional, if increasingly paranoid. Eddie Miller has depths to him, the exploration of which becomes one of the central pillars of the plot. In a way, the flatness of the material antagonists, such as Dirk Littlefield, serve as a counterpoint to the turmoil within the main character, emphasizing that the true tragedy is a psychological one, preying on the mind and not the body.
My overall impression of this book is that Cook deftly plays on his themes. The struggle is interesting, if not very intense, although toward the end I felt a distinct lack of sympathy toward the protagonist. However, the book itself felt slow, and the prose style was mediocre. While it was not a waste of time, I'm not sorry that I'm finished it either....more
I picked this up from the library hoping it'd be about a plucky protagonist with a quirky attitude who would stop at nothing to save the day. Well, I I picked this up from the library hoping it'd be about a plucky protagonist with a quirky attitude who would stop at nothing to save the day. Well, I was right, but not in the way I was expecting.
I seem to have stumbled upon the ninth novel in a series of novels intended for an audience composed primarily of people who are not me. By which I mean, I didn't like this book all that much, but most of my objections are based on personal taste and not on the book itself. If you've enjoyed previous Miss Julia books, or books in a similar vein, you'll probably like this one. I'm just not all that captivated by the machinations of a small town, its impending evil developer, and the relationships among the residents of Abbotsville.
Aside from my personal tastes, however, there were some aspects of the book I disliked. It felt rushed, especially toward the end, where the numerous plotlines began to collide in a wibbly-wobbly fashion. The protagonist's mood seems to vacillate with remarkable speed as she changes her plans several times over, attempting to compensate for every new iota of information she receives. While this may be prudent in real life, it's distracting in fiction.
The characters are cardboard cutouts, as stereotypical as they come. The plot is predictable and plodding at times. However, this is more typical of the entire genre in which this novel resides, so perhaps you won't mind this if you already read this series as a matter of course (or you'll simply think I'm crazy and ignore me)....more
I finished this book in three hours. From page one, Larry Doyle creates an eerily familiar depiction of high school, specifically that moment when youI finished this book in three hours. From page one, Larry Doyle creates an eerily familiar depiction of high school, specifically that moment when you look back during your graduation and realize you're finally free and have your whole life ahead of you--and it's scary.
Doyle's wit sets us off on a one-night odyssey that originates from the single question, "What if, instead of delivering an average graduation speech, the valedictorian head of the debate team confesses his love for the head cheerleader? What happens then?" Such a question has many answers, so Doyle takes a fresh path.
This is a book that reads like a movie. It's epic and cinematic and paced like it has scenes rather than chapters. Doyle smartly confines himself to a single night (with a short epilogue) and, with a few digressions, a single storyline. I've tried watching Superbad twice and couldn't get through it. This book succeeded for me where Superbad failed because, unlike that movie, this book employs an intelligent, honest-because-it-hurts sort of humour. Each sentence jabs at one's brain, dredging up specific memories of youth and high school.
I Love You, Beth Cooper could be, at first glance, a typical coming-of-age story about the nerdy smart guy who falls for the popular cheerleader (or for his construction of who the popular cheerleader is). To some extent, it is such a story. But it's not only such a story, and that isn't the aspect of this story that makes it awesome. Rather, it's the fact that in spite of employing such a major trope, the story is never trite, and it never tries to force a redeeming theme on the reader. Instead, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong for the protagonist does. And when things go right, they don't always go right in the way one would expect.
If you're seeking some sort of original umbrella wisdom on the truth about graduating high school and entering the world of adulthood, your mileage may vary with this book. But if you just want to be entertained, then I'll agree with Dave Barry's review: "I'm not saying it will make you laugh out loud. But I am saying that if it doesn't, something is wrong with you."...more
Overall, the word I'd use to describe this book is "shallow." Clarke and Pohl, two big names in SF, have managed to take two interesting concepts (FerOverall, the word I'd use to describe this book is "shallow." Clarke and Pohl, two big names in SF, have managed to take two interesting concepts (Fermat's Last Theorem and alien sterilization of Earth) and turn them into a boring book. It's as if they said one day, "Well, we've succeeded at everything else in literature; now we have to succeed at writing a bad book!"
My major problem with the book is the lack of any consequences, or really, any conflict at all. At points the story threatens to inject a conflict--such as when Ranjit becomes an unwitting accomplice to pirates and subsequently spends two years being tortured in prison. For a moment, I thought that might produce some genuine unhappiness that could mar this otherwise oppressively upbeat book. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Even toward the end, tragedy loomed on at least three separate occasions, yet somehow everything turned out all right. It's not that I have a problem with happy endings; I loves me a good happy ending. But happiness without struggle against adversity is hollow. I've read much better science fiction than this--this book feels like it was written for a fourteen-year-old as a "My first science fiction novel"--it's patronizing.
Our "protagonist", if indeed we can call him that, Ranjit, stumbles through his life without ever having to make any important decisions. Everything just sort of falls serendipitously into place. Oh, and along the way he discovers a miraculously short proof to Fermat's Last Theorem. Meanwhile, alien overlords have sent alien minions to sterilize Earth of dangerous humanity. But it's OK, because the overlords change their minds and then the minions befriend humanity.
As with the possibilities of tragedy I mentioned above, the book tempts us with the prospect of a meaningful theme when it touches upon the dangerous nature of an EMP-like weapon controlled by "the Big Three"--Russia, China, and the United States. Will this lead to an Orwellian future in which these Big Three control the only military forces on the planet? And will first contact with an alien species ironically lead to all-out planetary war even as the countries of humanity approach global peace?
Nah. It's much easier to just tell us in an epilogue that everything worked out fine, and thirteen thousand years everything was still going fine.
I'd have to say that even The Da Vinci Code better integrated an esoteric academic subject than this book. I understand that not everyone loves math as much as me, so I tolerate the explanations of Fermat's Last Theorem. But it wasn't even interesting. It had no relevance to the plot, because there was no plot. And since this book had Arthur C. Clarke's name on the cover, this has been the cause of severe disappointment for me!...more
George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books were some of the first fantasy I read, back when I was in grade seven. One of my friends introduced George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books were some of the first fantasy I read, back when I was in grade seven. One of my friends introduced me to fantasy by way of David Eddings' The Belgariad, and after polishing that off, I read the first three A Song of Ice and Fire books (yes, all three were out then, and the fourth one just came out recently!). Martin is one of my favourite authors, truly a brilliant combination of writer and storyteller: a master of the technique as well as the craft.
Martin is brave to publish Dreamsongs, which gives us--especially those of us who are younger readers and haven't been as exposed to the short fiction magazines of Martin's youth--a glimpse of Martin's formative years and the works with which he became a professional author. You can clearly see his writing improve over the course of the five-part book. Yet at the same time, even his early stories carry the kernel of creativity that's evident throughout this volume.
My favourites were "The Second Kidn of Loneliness", "And Seven Times Never Kill Man", "The Ice Dragon", "Meathouse Man", "Remembering Melody", and "Nightflyers". Having never read any of Martin's horror/SF stories, those latter "Hybrids and Horrors" made a significant impression on me--in particular, I'd compare them to Orson Scott Card in terms of ingenuity. Although "The Pear-Shaped Man" wasn't one of my favourites of this anthology, it's an excellent example of that Card-like creativity that makes Martin a prodigious writer: he knows how to get under your skin.
For those who have read other works by Martin, this will expand your knowledge of his oeuvre and his talents: he is indeed a science fiction/fantasy/horror writer, and everything in between. Plus, it will sate your thirst for more Martin stories in between books in A Song for Ice and Fire!
For those who are reading the works of Martin for the first time, this book is an excellent introduction....more
I like historical fiction, and I like mysteries, but above all I like historical mysteries. While more familiar with Paul Doherty's work set in ancienI like historical fiction, and I like mysteries, but above all I like historical mysteries. While more familiar with Paul Doherty's work set in ancient Egypt, I still enjoyed this mystery set in early 14th century England. Thanks to Doherty's enchanting descriptions and vivid characterization, Nightshade drew me into the year 1304.
I probably have read other Hugh Corbett novels, but I can't remember them. Going off this novel alone, it's hard to get a sense of his character. We spend very little time in Corbett's head; most of the book consists of dialogue and action that doesn't involve Corbett. Still, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. However, it did leave me with this curious feeling that very little of the story was actually influenced by Corbett's actions. So much of it seemed plot driven.
The mystery itself was rather unsatisfactory. Firstly, I couldn't sympathize with the victim, so when we learn the identity of the murderer and the motive, I found myself almost thinking the murder justified. Secondly, the story felt flat for the majority of the book, with very little variation to it. The resolution, in which Corbett lectures the murderer at length as to how the murderer accomplished this crime, goes on for several pages.
As I mentioned in my first paragraph, I really enjoyed the setting and Doherty's writing. I just couldn't fall in love with the plot--it was too flat and, frankly, boring. For fans of the series, this book isn't terrible--I suspect it probably won't be one of the better ones, however. For people who are new to the Hugh Corbett series (or can't remember if they're new, like me!), start with the first book and work your way toward this one....more
Shriver's use of a parallel universe structure is masterful and makes the book quite interesting. In fact, if she had not written the story in such a Shriver's use of a parallel universe structure is masterful and makes the book quite interesting. In fact, if she had not written the story in such a manner, I don't think the plot would have been as worthwhile--it would have just been another tired "should I or shouldn't I?" morality play.
My favourite aspect of the parallel universe structure was watching how characters react differently to Irina or to other characters depending on what choices she makes. For instance, the meeting between Ramsey Acton and Irina's mother goes horribly in the first universe (even though he buys her a car), but in the second universe, Irina's mother is so intrigued by Acton that she flirts with him!
This is the first I've read of Shriver's work, but her style and voice really drew me into the book. She makes some very poignant observations about life and the struggle to maintain--or endure--long-term romantic relationships. I sympathized with the main character, up to a point. Although I get that the point of the parallel universe structure was to play out two parallel possible lives without judging one superior to the other, I admit I took a side, preferring the universe in which she does not cheat on her partner.
Fortunately, it didn't matter that I picked sides, because it turns out that pretty bad things happen to Irina in either universe. Shriver's theme seems to be that "no matter what choices you make, your life is still going to suck anyway, although you can cling to the illusion of happiness if that's what makes you feel better." As a result, I can't help but get this feeling that Shriver forgot the fact that if two universe originate from a single point, they should be divergent. I realize that by keeping them parallel she allows us to compare Irina's choices in remarkably similar circumstances (for example, in both universes, Irina writes and illustrates her own children's book, it gets short-listed for an award, and she goes to the awards dinner). However, by unifying the two universes at the end, Shriver creates an ambiguous, postmodern ending that I can't enjoy.
I was ambivalent about giving this book two or three stars. Although I didn't enjoy the ending, the majority of the book was interesting and rich. Ultimately, I'm giving it three stars because Shriver is a good writer, even if I didn't end up liking her conclusion to the story....more
While the theme might be interesting, this book did not live up to my expectations. The changes the main characters underwent seemed rough and somewhaWhile the theme might be interesting, this book did not live up to my expectations. The changes the main characters underwent seemed rough and somewhat arbitrary, as if they were changing because the author wanted them to change for the purposes of the plot rather than through their own internal motivation. Tom Perrotta's writing style does nothing to rescue me from this plot-driven drivel. Don't get me wrong: this book has its moments; they are just few and far between.
The Abstinence Teacher begins by introducing us to Ruth, a divorced mom who's the sexual education teacher at the high school in this small, conservative town. She's under siege at school for wanting to teach safe sex instead of just abstinence. Meanwhile, she picks fights with her younger daughter's soccer coach, a born-again evangelical Christian, for leading the team in a prayer after a game. And she neglects her older daughter, which drives that daughter to seek meaning through--you guessed it--Christianity. Oh, and she wants to find a man. And she's friends with a gay couple.
I'm not making this up.
See, that's my problem with this novel: it's too contrived. I say too contrived because I realize that most novels, especially ones with overt thematic agendas like this one, need to be contrived to an extent. Perrotta has gone further than that, however, because he weaves sexuality into every aspect of the book and uses stereotypes like "the gay couple" to advance his theme. Others may not have a problem with this, but I found it awkward and artificial.
After getting to know Ruth, suddenly the book switches cameras to follow her daughter's soccer coach, Tim. Tim has problems: a former drug addict and reformed alcoholic, he credits Jesus with his salvation. Good so far--pretty believable. But he just can't shake Ruth from his mind, and eventually temptation rears its ugly head (heads?), forcing him to take advice from the spirited evangelical pastor of their local uber-conservative church.
Pastor Dennis is a great character, actually. Perrotta makes it clear that Dennis has a radical agenda on his mind and isn't above using radical means to advance it. It also helps set Pastor Dennis up as the real antagonist, thus allowing us to sympathize with Tim and his struggle to discern some sort of "truth" from the mess of life.
We experience a major portion, if not the majority of the book, following Tim's perspective before jumping back to Ruth, and then ultimately interspersing Ruth- and Tim-centric chapters. This works well, allowing us to see how each perceives the other and how each interprets shared experiences.
Unfortunately, Perrotta has certain other idiosyncrasies that made it hard for me to enjoy his writing. He has a tendency to introduce every single minor character with an appositive that sums them up in a trite little stereotype. I started noticing this about halfway through, and then it annoyed me for the rest of the book. Sometimes minor characters are just minor characters, Tom. We don't need to know about their favourite sexual positions....
Alas, it's an interesting concept, and one that is apparently relevant in contemporary American society. Yet I just could not enjoy it. I suspect, however, that others may like the book for the very reason I disliked it, so your mileage may vary....more
Not my favourite of Meltzer's books. Somewhat too predictable, and the ending wasn't all that fulfilling. I enjoyed what the Book of Lies/Truth turnedNot my favourite of Meltzer's books. Somewhat too predictable, and the ending wasn't all that fulfilling. I enjoyed what the Book of Lies/Truth turned out to be, but there were too many loose ends with the main characters.
In general, it felt too much like another off-the-shelf secret-society-gone-wrong quest-for-an-ancient-artifact novel than a good thriller/mystery. More specifically, there was nothing about the novel that made me cheer or fall in love with it. I didn't get attached to any of the characters. I didn't get attached to this idea of the first murder weapon being a book. There was just nothing that made me care, so I went through the entire book just waiting to see what happened next.
Meltzer worked too hard to interweave his story idea with existing Superman history too. I like Superman, although I'm not an avid reader of his comics or any others. But the digressions into history did not entertain me; they left me unfulfilled. Overall, I continued reading the book just because I wanted to finish it, and not because I was invested in the characters or the plot.
Worth reading? Sure. I liked it. It turned out okay. Worth reading twice? No. And if you have other Brad Meltzer books to read, read those ones first....more
This is a story of curdled bitterness. One of the main characters tears his family in two and creates a gaping wound that doesn't heal until several dThis is a story of curdled bitterness. One of the main characters tears his family in two and creates a gaping wound that doesn't heal until several decades later. A tale of "twins separated at birth", The Memory Keeper's Daughter explores how the secret complications of that separation affect all the members of the two families that raise these twins.
I appreciate her depiction of Down's syndrome in the '60s and '70s, as well as the challenges that parents of children with Down's syndrome faced, particularly in securing education and accommodation for their children. As someone who hasn't had much experience with Down's syndrome, I can't attest to Edwards' accuracy, but I think she got the emotional resonance down.
Often the conflicts in these books seem contrived and forced; that seldom happens in this story. The characters and their motivations seem real--irrational at times, sure, but that's because they're human. The relationships are a realistic, as is most of the plot, which is aided by creative license only when required to keep the story moving. Edwards makes me care about Caroline and her adopted daughter, Phoebe. She makes me resent David's actions and question whether Nora is really devoted to her son, or if every time she looks at him she's reminded of the daughter she "lost".
About two-thirds of the way through the story, another character, Rosalie, is introduced. I disliked this subplot, finding it somewhat random. In hindsight I understand Rosalie's purpose, of course, in that Edwards needed a way for David to become a father again and eventually decide to tell his family about Phoebe. But this is the only part of the book that feels contrived, which was disappointing in light of how good it is otherwise.
A moving story, I'd recommend this to others and read it again....more
I agree with those reviewers who found this book somewhat less awesome than they initially anticipated. Coming from a math background, and as surroundI agree with those reviewers who found this book somewhat less awesome than they initially anticipated. Coming from a math background, and as surrounded by technology as I am, I think that the book would have had more of an impact with me if I knew less about these issues already. And that's why I'm giving it such a high rating: it does a good job educating, and I like that in a book.
Stephen Baker's tone is conversational and analytical as he takes you through successive chapters that introduce us to the Numerati, the mathematicians, engineers, sociologists, and marketing gurus who are analyzing and modelling humanity. The Numerati's interests are varied, from the workplace to the bedroom. As a mathematician, I enjoy books that educate people about the real-world applications of math and remind them that it's not just a dry, dusty discipline full of formulas and equations.
The medical chapter intrigued me the most. Baker interviews several people working with Intel on technology for modelling people's behaviour at home. These machines would alert doctors when a patient deviates from regular behaviour, thus allowing doctors to know if someone's weight dramatically decreases or if an elderly patient has fallen. The potential applications of our ability to model and predict human behaviour have immense implications for improving our medical industry, which is plagued with difficulties in both Canada (go universal healthcare!) and the U.S. (with its privatized healthcare).
Baker does mention privacy concerns, but he mostly glosses over these, pointing out that there is a difference between disclosing one's "personal data" and one's "identity." I see his point. I also see why many people are concerned about the role of privacy in the Google age. I would have liked to see some more specific information on privacy--the book in general feels short. In places, it could be much more specific, expansive. But I suppose that Baker wanted to keep it light enough to attract the curious reader, and I will forgive him for that, because it was interesting and informative. I'd read a sequel....more
**spoiler alert** Second review: April 2020 Honestly, I don't have much to add to my review from 12 years ago (!). This remains an excellent mystery wr**spoiler alert** Second review: April 2020 Honestly, I don't have much to add to my review from 12 years ago (!). This remains an excellent mystery wrapped in deep medievalist philosophy and thought. It once again took me a long time to read, but it was a nice distraction from what's going on right now.
First review: December 2008 It took me a long time to finish this book (perhaps the longest time it's ever taken me to read a book). Umberto Eco sets out not just to provide another pulp fiction fodder for the masses, but to construct a richly-textured story--or rather, history--with elements of mystery, rhetoric, and religion. As a result of the book's depth, not to mention its lengthy passages of medieval rhetoric, I started this in October and am only now finishing it; I read other books on the side to keep myself occupied. But the length of time it takes me to read a book is irrelevant, as long as I enjoy it. And that I did.
By including discussions of contemporary events outside the secluded setting of the novel, Eco manages to draw me into 1327. The characters in the book are not cardboard cutouts, modern people wearing the clothing of fourteenth century monks but otherwise curiously resembling our own friends and family. Instead, their language, habits (no pun intended), and thought processes are those of fourteenth century monks. Yet at the same time, none of these digressions distract too much from the main plot. Sure, they may not be directly related to the mystery, but none of them feel artificially-induced for the sake of educating the reader about a particular facet of medieval life. Each conversation originates as a logical consequence of an event within the world of the novel. It helps that the narrator is, at the time of the events, a novice monk, companion to the protagonist--a Watson to William of Baskerville's Holmes would be the most obvious comparison, although not entirely accurate.
And what of our two main characters? Adso of Melk is everything a narrator needs to be. By having him tell the story much later in life, Eco can use the older, narrating Adso as a filter for the experiences of his younger self. We also get to see what life was like for a novice monk in the fourteenth century, the challenges he faces in an uncertain religious climate, and the temptations embodied by physical lust.
Adso's mentor, William of Baskerville, is a self-professed follower of Roger Bacon and William of Occam's schools of scientific method and deduction. As such, Eco devotes a good deal of dialogue to extolling the virtues of deductive reasoning and its function for an inquisitor. And this is the part where my estimation of The Name of the Rose rises from "enjoyable" to "clever": Eco has William spend so much time explaining his deductive methods that one becomes convinced he is a fourteenth century Shakespeare, and that a solution to the story's crime will naturally be forthcoming. So when it turns out that William actually fails, Eco's devotion to deduction provides a counterpoint to his exploration of a lack of order in the universe. Naturally, this is a problem for a monk who believes that there is a God who has a divine plan for every being in Creation. The existence of reasoning monks like William of Baskerville is therefore a quandary--how do they reconcile their two ideologies? Thus, Eco manages to raise quintessential metaphysical issues while still wrapping them around the nougaty goodness of an interesting plot.
For some, the length of the book and the ponderous pace of the first several chapters would make them discard it with a sigh of disinterest. I admit that at times I laboured to get through some of the particularly dense passages. Yet I persevered, and in the end, I feel rewarded. In fact, the failure of William to solve the crime in a timely fashion feels superior to the typical formula of a Christie or Conan Doyle mystery; I don't feel patronized because the detective has figured out the mystery when I could not. Rather, I enjoyed the journey for what it was: a dialogue between mentor and student, couched in a multiple-murder mystery at a monastery.
Eco explains his reasoning for writing The Name of the Rose (as well as his reasoning behind the title) in the postscript included in this edition. I liked the book; I loved the postscript. Not only did it make me appreciate parts of the book better, but I concur with many of Eco's remarks, not only as a reader, but as a writer. One part that I found particularly interesting was where he explains that he intentionally made the first one hundred pages a "penitential obstacle ... for the purpose of constructing a reader suitable for what comes afterward." This is something that many authors and readers often forget: not every story is meant for every person. People are, thankfully, infinitely diverse and different. Trying to cater to the tastes of everyone results in a very bland result. After all, reading a book is an investment. In order to deliver on that investment, the author wants to ensure that anyone still reading near the end of the book will enjoy the ending. The best way to do that is to weed out any other types of people near the beginning.
It's likely that I'll re-read this book in the future--several times, perhaps--and discover even deeper levels of meaning. These won't necessarily be the same interpretations you draw from the book; they might not even be the interpretations Eco intentionally designed for the book. That's the great thing about books so laden with symbolism and detail like The Name of the Rose: readers can find what they want in the book, without the burden of having to guess at what the author intends for us to find. Because after all, reading fiction--even active, thoughtful, intellectual reading of fiction--should not be a chore. While its length and rhetorical nature make The Name of the Rose seem like a chore on a superficial level, a closer examination reveals that it is instead a very enjoyable experience, as long as one keeps an open mind....more
I couldn't get into this book, unfortunately. I had a hard time empathizing with the characters that Bennett sets in 15th century England. The protagoI couldn't get into this book, unfortunately. I had a hard time empathizing with the characters that Bennett sets in 15th century England. The protagonist, Isabel, never really seems to seize the day and attempt to carve out her own destiny.
Often I say, "Not my favourite book, but if you have the time, give it a read." There's nothing about Figures in Silk to recommend itself as one of those books, however. Its historical scope is narrow: while set during the War of the Roses and involving several of the important players in that game, there are many more interesting books set during this time period. Even the details on the silk trade are lacklustre.
You could do much better than spend time reading Figures in Silk....more
The first half of the book was a little erotic for my tastes, but it's fine if you like that sort of thing. It just seemed like a page didn't go by wiThe first half of the book was a little erotic for my tastes, but it's fine if you like that sort of thing. It just seemed like a page didn't go by without mentioning sex or arousal or issuing some sort of innuendo. This calmed down toward the end of the book, by which time I actually found myself empathizing with Mary quite a bit
The book appealed to my dormant desire to learn more about the Elgin marbles. Essex writes with confidence and an intimate tone that makes the period and the characters come alive. I quite enjoyed her portrayal of Mary and Aspasia's thoughts and feelings. Through the course of the book, Essex draws heavy parallels between a woman's life in ancient Greece and a woman's life in 18th-century England--both democracies at war with other world powers.
At times, the book was tiring. In addition to the aforementioned emphasis on the erotic, the dialogue could be difficult, and Essex belaboured her points about women's disadvantages.
I did enjoy how she worked in little points of historical detail (for example, explaining to the reader how Elgin had syphilis, not rheumatism, by making Sebastian explain it to Mary). For the most part the book seems quite accurate from a historical perspective.
Far from my favourite book, Stealing Athena was a satisfactory portrayal of two women who lived a millennium apart yet still suffered the same challenges....more
I went into this book not knowing what to expect, and I loved it. Jhumpa Lahiri creates timeless families that straddle the cultural divide between AmI went into this book not knowing what to expect, and I loved it. Jhumpa Lahiri creates timeless families that straddle the cultural divide between America and India. She captures the conflict of growing up as one tries to balance one's parent's wishes with the influence of one's heritage and the culture of one's surroundings.
Of the first part of the book, I loved "Unaccustomed Earth", "Hell-Heaven", and "Only Goodness." The other two stories were great, but those three are my favourite--particularly "Only Goodness," which resonates with me as an older sibling who is now watching his younger brother grow up (luckily not as an alcoholic--yet....). And that's the great thing about Lahiri's writing. There seems to be a number of authors, such as Yann Martel (Life of Pi) and Rohinton Mistry (A Fine Balance) who can write stories involving Indian culture that speak to much more universal truths. This is not through any intrinsic value of Indian culture that makes it superior, but I think I'm falling in love with that setting. The themes these authors profess affect everyone, however, and that's why Lahiri's stories are so moving.
Part two consists of three stories involving a woman, Hema, and a man, Kaushik, both Bengalis. The first part is told from the viewpoint of Hema as a young girl, who becomes fascinated with Kaushik when his family stays with hers while moving back to America from India. In the second, Kaushik recounts his difficulty adjusting his father's remarriage several years after his mother's death from cancer. In the third story, Hema and Kaushik reunite for the first time in several decades, in Rome, where they rediscover each other. The ending is somewhat tragic, but at the same time it possesses a sense of stillness. These stories made me want to stop and appreciate each moment in life.
I found this book in the library, but now I'm buying a copy. I want it on my shelf....more
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