good english
to read makes our speaking English good.
I'm not going to try to sound all scholarly or like an actual reviewer up in here; Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season Eight is like crack-laced popcorn to me, and it's impossible for me to be objective. The original teevee series meant a lot to me, and Season Eight feels like an extension of that series -- same cleverness, familiar characters, Monster-of-the-Week style subplots with a Major Big Bad hovering over it all -- and I can't help but love it. I don't know if non-fans would think as highly of it -- maybe having the characters' voices and mannerisms in my head already is an advantage? -- but I finished the first five TPBs in one night, and would have kept going if my library owned the others in the series.
Aaaah I'm at the end of my stash of gifted Fables. I liked Storybook Love a lot; it felt BIGGER than the first two volumes, and covered more ground, so there wasn't a lot of stalling going on.I did have a slight issue with some of the art: there's a section of the book that's especially Bigby-heavy and in many, many panels, you cannot see his mouth. It bothered me so much! I know it's petty, but it kept distracting me. I don't know if this is something that's actually normal in drawings of Bigby and he was just in more panels in a row this time, or if it's just a common comic book thing that means "determination" or something that I'm too poorly read to realize, or what, but I was thisclose to just drawing his damn mouth myself. Argh.
Anyway, ASIDE FROM THAT DUMB THING, this was my favorite so far.
(four-and-a-half stars)
Never read The Lonely Doll as a kid, somehow acquired a biography of Dare Wright (still unread), saw this displayed in the kiddie section at the library and snatched it up. I read it this morning because I needed to take it back to the library. This is a children's book that involves a story, told through photographs, of a doll who is desperate for friends until one day two bears mysteriously show up. There's a large bear who ends up being a father figure and a little bear who ends up being the doll's partner in crime. The text is simple and brief and the photographs are dreamy black-and-white shots.
I think as a kid I would have thought it was just a cute story and been inspired to tell a similar story with my dolls, but as an adult I found it terribly sad and a little creepy. (And it would be creepy even without the oft-mentioned spanking scene.) It's pretty, though.
Maybe I'm biased because I'm a sucker for time travel stories, but I LOVED 11/22/63. I'd never read Stephen King before tackling this monster of a novel, so I didn't know what to expect; I just knew a lot of people liked it. At a certain point (when Yellow Card Man becomes Black Card Man) I was SURE this was going to turn into a horror story, but it's not, it's just speculative/historical/science fiction -- however you want to categorize it -- with a sweet love story nestled in the center. I found Jake Epping, the English teacher who narrates this book, to be a likeable protagonist, and I could understand the motivation behind most of his choices, which is good when the subject is something as off-the-wall as time travel. It's LONG, over 800 pages worth of long, but so compelling that I got through it quickly, although there was a long stretch where Jake was living across the street from Oswald for better stalking that was a little slow for me. The science behind the time travel is about as deep as it would be in, hmmm, a Doctor Who episode, maybe? But I'm fine with that, I prefer the story to the science.
And it's an absorbing story that sticks around in your head; I was doing something entirely unrelated to reading and noticed a coincidental moment of my own. I fully admit to cackling and declaring "THE PAST HARMONIZES, BITCHES!"
There are a few fade-to-black sex scenes that are a little awkward, but not downright awful, and I feel like Jake's love interest could have been fleshed out just a little more, but on the whole I enjoyed the crap out of 11/22/63 -- even without much previous knowledge of JFK's assassination, other than what I read in this old coffee table book my parents used to have -- and I'm going to be seeking out more novels by King. I'm sure he will really appreciate my support, I hear he's been struggling to find a fanbase.
Not even going to try to REALLY review Fables; I just have issues (ha!) reviewing comics. I love the premise behind this series -- fairy tale shake-ups are my thing -- and got a huge kick out of Legends in Exile. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the series. I'm not sure how the three TPBs I own (gifts!) sat on my shelf so long without me ripping through them. My penchant for delayed gratification, probably.
Hated to do it, but I had to break it to Rabbit that she wasn't ready for Fables yet when she tried to sneak off with this volume; she's become a comics fiend and was very disappointed that there were comics in the house, but she couldn't read them. Poor Rabbit. Time to go browsing recs again.
Yep, add Orwell's Animal Farm in with the already-catnippy remixed fairy tales, and I'm sold. I liked the story in this volume better than the murder mystery in Fables in Exile, and preferred the pace of Animal Farm to the slower character intros in the first volume.
I decided around page 200 that I didn't want to finish Such a Pretty Fat. I paged through the last half of the book, reading a bit here and there, and confirmed I was okay with my decision before putting it back in the library bag.The thing is, I disagree with a lot of the negative reviews -- I love sarcasm, I love bitchiness, I love swearing (I FUCKING LOVE SWEARING), but there's still something about Lancaster's writing that doesn't sit well with me. If I'm reading a memoir, it's important that it feels authentic, and almost all of the conversations I read in Pretty Fat felt canned, like they were scripted for a sitcom with a laugh track. I realize part of a memoir is putting your most interesting self forward, but there are only so many WE ARE SO CLEVER, OH MY GAWD back-and-forths a reader can take (if that reader is me).
Slow-ass pacing, smugness, nastiness for the wrong reasons, and the fact that the magical elixir was a combo of sensible eating and hiring a personal trainer -- so much for the everywoman appeal -- cemented Pretty Fat's place on the "unfinished" shelf.
(one-and-a-half stars)
The Firefly Letters is a slim volume of historical semi-fiction that uses the known bones of Fredrika Bremer's stay in Cuba in the 1850s to tell a mostly-imagined story about Bremer and two young women. I'm glad it exists -- I wouldn't have heard of Bremer otherwise -- but it seemed insubstantial. The "letters" are written in free verse, which is interesting, but between that and the fact that there are four characters' voices being heard, none of the characters feel like anything more than sketches.
I don't have much to say about this one; it's a collection of sarcastic/sometimes funny advice from The Believer's "Sedaratives" column. It does exactly what it says on the tin. There are a lot of comedians I like represented here, a bunch of Daily Show correspondents and people like Sarah Vowell, Aziz Ansari, and Amy Sedaris (of course). There were a few people I didn't recognize and a few I don't really like, but not as many as I expected.The problem I had with You're a Horrible Person, But I Like You is that it was sort of boring, but not enough for me to put it down. Does that make sense? I read it in a couple of days, but about halfway through I realized that it should probably have been read in short bursts because it was too much of the same thing when read for an hour at a time, but I was already halfway through so I just wanted to finish it.
Not the worst "funny" thing I've ever read but I wouldn't classify it as hilarious, maybe amusing in moderation. It probably works better as a monthly feature.
(two-and-a-half stars)
Witches, pumpkins, and grinning ghosts;: The story of Halloween symbols
I love the illustrations in Witches, Pumpkins, and Grinning Ghosts -- you can tell they were drawn in the 70s, in a charming way -- but the writing style is too choppy and random for me to enjoy. I like that a children's book includes info about actual witches, Druids, celebrations of the dead, etc., and I liked the background provided for jack o'lanterns, bobbing for apples . . . all those classic games and symbols associated with Halloween. I haven't gone through the book chapter-by-chapter to fact-check, but I suspect some facts might be a little jumbled; some bits just SOUND wrong, but I can't back that up.
Most of my problem, though, stems from Barth's writing style; the book reads like a grade-school essay, with info just dropped into each chapter randomly, with no smooth transitions between time periods or subjects. It's hard to read, or maybe just hard to focus on. It's not a book I'd recommend unless you really dig the art.
Moominvalley in November was a charming read, full of a good fall atmosphere. I've heard about Jansson's stuff for years, but for whatever reason I never thought to look for Moomin books at the library -- and then I saw this one sitting there, cover out, in the YA section. It took me a little while to warm up to it, between the writing and the unfamiliar characters, but by the time I got to Fillyjonk I was hooked.
Rabbit read this one too: I left it on the table and she saw it and read a chapter then declared it "weird." I said OKAY and didn't bother trying to dissuade her, and then two days later, after seeing me read it off and on, she decide she wanted to read it, after all.
Okay, fine, UNCLE. I don't want to finish this one, at all, and every time I think about picking it up I pick up a magazine or the internets instead, so I'm setting it aside. I've read reviews of Nocturnes on Goodreads and a lot of people seem to think there are stronger stories than the opening story, "The Cancer Cowboy Rides," but I just hated that story so much that I don't even want to try to read the rest, especially since a number of reviews mention Connolly having some issues with writing women, which doesn't help ANYTHING.
Maybe it's not fair to decide not to read a collection of short stories based on one part of the collection, but the opening story tends to set the tone for the rest of the book, and I'm just not interested in going beyond "The Cancer Cowboy Rides." I can't articulate what I hated about it very well. I just know I didn't like it.
Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
Cheryl Strayed must have a damn submarine full of rabbit's feet hidden somewhere; it is absolutely unbelievable how lucky she was -- as a totally unprepared hiking noob -- on this trip, how much good fortune she fell into along the way. Sure, her feet were temporarily destroyed because she didn't bother to take her boots on a trial run to make sure they fit okay (!!!), but it could have been so much worse. I enjoyed Strayed's writing style, and I think it elevated the book, and I probably would have gotten stalled halfway through if it weren't for the turns of phrase that kept me hooked. I'm also a sucker for people reading/recommending books WITHIN books, and Wild has that going for it, too. And I can't help but admire Strayed for finishing a trip I'd probably never have the nerve to start, even if parts of her trail experience were slogged through because the only way out was up.
That said, I don't know what inspiration I should draw from this book, although it seems like the kind of book that's looking to inspire. Maybe if I had more in common with Strayed it would be easier to see some shining light, but as it is Wild is roughly 50% a story about hiking the PCT and 50% a mildly eye-roll-inducing story about a self-involved young woman who chooses the TOTALLY WRONG WAY to deal with Life Crap and gets away with it without too many repercussions. It is a memoir, so I guess it's fair that the focus of the book is what's going on inside Strayed's head, but I think I would have preferred more of an 75/25 split.
CONCLUSION! I would have liked more hike and less reflection, but the reflections were written prettily enough that I didn't mind too much. Also, I think a better name for Strayed's story would be Lucky -- too bad that's already taken.
(three-and-a-half stars)
Soulless (Parasol Protectorate, #1)
Soulless was not what I expected. Not in a bad way, not in a good way, just in an "oh" way. I expected something like Young Miss Marple vs. The Vampires, for whatever reason. I haven't even read much Miss Marple -- those were my least favorite Christies -- but I guess spinster + England, past tense + mystery-type plot = Miss Marple in my head.So Carriger's written this thing that I thought was Miss Marple-y but is actually a steampunk/supernatural/romantic mystery with a sense of humor. It drove me nuts in some ways, and I don't appreciate octopus door handles or dirigibles (SO MANY DIRIGIBLES) enough to be into the steampunk accents, but Soulless was an okay way to pass a handful of hours. Alexia Tarabotti is a preternatural, a designation that reflects her lack of a soul, while in the Soulless 'verse, vampires and werewolves can only be created from individuals who have TOO MUCH soul. Alexia's "condition" enables her to revert supernaturals back to their human state by touching them. She's friends/on speaking terms with members of both supernatural parties, and becomes involved in an investigation of strange vampire happenings after accidentally killing a vampire who was looking for a snack.
I highlighted a bunch of stuff that bugged me but synced my Kindle accidentally and lost my notes, since it was a library loan. I remember hating that every other woman in the book is stupid or horrible -- even Alexia's BFF is dismissed as a dip, BY ALEXIA, who views wanting her only female friend's advice as evidence that she's hit her last resort. There's a gay vampire who speaks in half-italics, every other word lambie or plum blossom or your or perhaps and I started to skip over his dialogue by the end, because it was so annoying. I couldn't stand how Carriger switched between referring to her heroine as "Alexia" and "Miss Tarabotti" frequently within the text, often within the space of a few sentences. And there are some phrases included that just don't WORK in the setting of Soulless: "She is trying to make a funny," I'm rolling my eyes at you.
But wait, there are good things, too! Alexia is a strong heroine and makes mostly smart choices. I enjoyed the novelty of reading something I don't normally read, although it did reinforce my dislike of romances. There are a few funny moments tucked into the book. I am a sucker for new twists on vampire lore, even if this twist is questionable -- I'm not sure whether it's supposed to be taken as fact by the reader or be squiffy "science."
Not a KILL IT WITH FIRE book, but not something I'll revisit, and I'm not really interested in reading the sequels. Too many dirigibles for me.
(two-and-a-half stars)
The speaker in this case
is a middle-aged witch, me --
tangled on my two great arms,
my face in a book
and my mouth wide,
ready to tell you a story or two.
I expected to LOVE Transformations, an all caps, shouty kind of love, but instead I liked it, lowercase, normal conversational tones. I'm not sure why I didn't connect with Sexton's poems, especially since I love the way she plays with words and metaphor, mixes the dusty language of fairy tales with taxi girls and Thorazine.
Transformations is a collection of poems, retellings of fairy tales -- the Grimm versions, pretty dark even without help. Sexton pulls out the creepiest undertones of the stories and puts them on full display. Before each retelling there's an introduction, putting a modern spin on the old stories. Most of the retellings are straightforward enough, but often Sexton's turns of phrase would make me see some element of the tale in a new light, and even when they didn't, I'd enjoy the words she chose to put her poem together, even if I didn't totally click with the collection as a whole.
I found a few of the poems in the collection to go past dark into downright disturbing. I'm sure that was Sexton's intention, but I would be happy never to read "Rapunzel" again.
(three-and-a-half stars)
It took me two tries to get into The Book of Lost Things; I'm not sure why. I think I just wasn't in the right place for it the first time. The second time, I stayed attached to it until I got to the very last page, all the way through the story, through the interview with John Connolly, and the notes about the included fairy tales' origins at the end.The Book of Lost Things is basically a coming-of-age story made up of fairy tales. David's mother dies and he retreats into the books they both loved to escape the reality of her death and the imposition of the new family his father creates. Eventually David completely hides himself in a world the books have created, where the fairy tales he's read mix with darker things and David's own fears twist their way into the story as he tries to work his way back to his own world.
While I was reading, it reminded me of "Once Upon a Time" (the teevee show) in a way, although the setting is entirely different, of course. While I thoroughly enjoyed the story told in The Book of Lost Things, the characters felt a little flat, and I couldn't let go of the fact that I was reading a book -- I couldn't get lost in the story. That didn't stop me from reading it, obviously, I just found it strange given how much I was digging it.
Currently reading
How to Create the Perfect Wife: Britain's Most Ineligible Bachelor and His Enlightened Quest to Train the Ideal Mate
Homeward Bound: Why Women are Embracing the New Domesticity
Help Thanks Wow: Three Essential Prayers
The Machinery of Life
The Haunting of Hill House (Stephen King Horror Library)
