I admit I bought in to the hype around The Girl on the Train. I heard about it three times in two days and couldn’t resist the summer blockbuster appeal. I bought in to the point of buying the book (something I rarely do what with the existence of libraries and the scarcity of free money), though I got it for $10 as a ‘Heather’s Pick’ at Chapters (my local and fantastic bookshop was sold out and I had to have it Right Now). I’m embarrassed by the whole thing. (Would I be as embarrassed if it had been a better book? Or if J. hadn’t warned me that it wasn’t as great as people were saying?). Continue reading
Category Archives: Bestseller
The Girl on the Train: Over-hyped, misogynistic nonsense
Filed under Bestseller, Book Club, Popular Posts, Worst Books
The Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing: If Sex and the City Was Literary Fiction
Melissa Banks’ A Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing is a novel about a young woman figuring out what she does and does not value about herself, and about her self-in-relationships. It’s a novel that makes the case for ‘being yourself,’ and ‘having experiences,’ and ‘dancing in the rain.’ That’s not fair of me, it’s not that pat – our protagonist Jane Rosenal has nuance and develops. There are touching scenes that left me feeling things (in particular the scenes with her father). I did, however, feel like it was a book trying very hard to be Serious, and Important, and Moving.
If nothing else there’s this one line that will stick with me for a good long time: “Too late, you realize that your body was perfect – every healthy body is” (218). (this from a chapter with second person narration – didn’t I say it was Deliberately Literary?) I know that the sentence privileges ‘healthy bodies’ (and the attendant ideas that go along with ‘health’ and ‘healthy.’) But as someone who complicated feelings about perfect bodies, it was a sharp sentence (amid a chapter about breast cancer no less) that reminded me – and all the 20 somethings the book is aimed at – that the epic struggle to find the perfect body is not Odyssian, but rather Sisyphean. So sure, we’d all be better off recognizing the perfection that is our body when all of its parts are working the way they’re supposed to and/or without pain. And yes, it’s a sentence I’d like to internalize by way of the story that accompanies it. The story tries to get there, tries to show that acceptance of self is the real route to perfect happiness. The only trouble is that for the protagonist here, that real self is one of utter privilege (in all categories) and so acceptance is about accepting yourself as the normative ideal (what’s the hierarchy of self-acceptance?)
All this to say I’m not urging you to go read this one. I think you’d be better off reading Anne of Green Gables. But I would say if you’re a 20 something, or you’re looking for a book for a 20 something, you could do worse than this one.
Side note: I did not realize the book was understood by some to be a collection of linked short stories (aren’t they all?). I obviously would not have read it if that had been the case (see: my long standing and utterly unjustified hatred for short fiction). I don’t think it is, but worth pointing out that Amazon will confuse the genre for you.
Filed under Bestseller, Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction
The Pale Blue Eye: Murder Mystery Mash-up
I don’t have much to say about Louis Bayard’s The Pale Blue Eye. I enjoyed reading it? It was captivating (if entirely forgettable)? The novel is set in the 19th century (hooray), is a murder mystery (fun) and includes a fictionalized Edgar Allen Poe (what fun). We follow our protagonist retired police detective as he sets about trying to solve the murder and dismemberment of an army cadet. Poe is recruited to help him in his efforts. Layers of mystery and some romance.
My little description makes it sound like the book is trashy or easy. It’s not! It has a remarkable ending, sets up a complex and compelling relationship between the detective and Poe. I just don’t have much more to say than that.
I’d take it to the beach and read it. Maybe. No, what I think it’s best for is a book-on-tape long car ride. Captivating for plot, tone and setting. Take that to your audio-book source of choice and enjoy!
Filed under Bestseller, Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction, Mystery
After the War is Over: Altogether too many descriptions of hats
Here are a few reasons I didn’t enjoy Jennifer Robson’s *After the War is Over*:
1. It was altogether ridiculously predictable in plot: to the point that I anticipated the union of our lower-class protagonist with her Lord for so many chapters I skimmed through yet another obstacle-in-the-path-of-true-love, stopping only to admire the frequent use of ‘visage’ and ‘shirtwaist’ (and other lovely period diction).
2. On the subject of unnecessary attention to historical particulars: It included many (many) pointless detours in plot with the sole purpose of showing off historical detail. Details that were only there (I can only assume) because the author holds a PhD in History and seems quite taken with historical specificity for post-Great War era fashion, dances and food. Detours like visits to dress shops, or bedroom dance lessons. Page long descriptions of historical bathing suits. Really. Detours with no discernable relation to character or theme development. Detours entirely devoted to hats.
3. The protagonist is a repressed, self-righteous free spirit just waiting for the right (rich, handsome, rich, cultured, sensitive, rich) man to liberate her from her self-imposed dourness and expose the true glow of her unique petals of utter stunning beauty flower.
Here is 1 1/2 reasons I did:
1. Because Downtown Abbey got it right: there’s something fascinating about the historical moment of 1919 in which class and gender hierarchies (nevermind accepted and expected rules of decorum) get shaken.
1.5 Because it includes a beautiful scene of our protagonist casting her vote in the first election that allowed women (of certain classes) to vote. And because this reader cannot resist swelling feeling of gratitude and respect for those women (and men) who fought – and fight – so hard for franchise. That said, this scene takes up the first three pages of the book. So you could read those and then… stop.
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