Category Archives: Worst Books

March 8, 2012 · 3:15 pm

The Lamplighter: First to Fall

     So I made this deal with myself after 10-10-12 that I’d only read books I found to be “good” (noting that “good” doesn’t mean I’m enjoying them necessarily, but rather that I see some merit in reading them) and so true to this promise I’ve stopped reading Anthony O’Neill’s The Lamplighter. I’ve not adopted a particular rule for how long to give the book to win me over (should I read half of it? only a quarter? how soon do you know that a book is no good?), nor have I yet dealt with the terrible guilt wracking me: maybe the book was poised to radically improve? maybe had I given it another 30 pages it would have won me over? And this, I fear, is the trap that led me to finish “Not Without My Daughter” and it’s kind. A compassionate reader has no place in the world of far too many stories to ever read. I hope with practice to be cut throat. No more terrible books! I’ll work on some policy recommendations with respect to how long to keep reading and how to deal with the guilt and keep you posted.

I don’t get it. By all accounts I *should* enjoy The Lamplighter. It’s a historical murder mystery set in Gothic Scotland full of mystery and suspense. But I just didn’t care about the characters, found the pace plodding and the tone dull. So there you go; I stopped reading it half way in and I don’t care to say any more about it.

Leave a comment

Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Worst Books

Tagged as , ,

November 16, 2011 · 1:03 am

Jonathan Livingston Seagull: A Parable (and not about seagulls)

     So all the book lists and reviewers I read suggesting I read “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” because it featured a seagull protagonist and was so “about seagulls,” clearly missed that this is a book about Buddhism. Jonathan, the “seagull” learns the truth about flying (it’s love), reaches a higher plane of understanding, returns to the earthly realm to teach other seagulls the truth about flying, faces resistance, but teaches one or two seagulls and so feels satisfied.

Here’s a telling excerpt:

“Your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip…is nothing more than your thought itself, in a form you can see. Break the chains of your thought, and you break the chains of your body, to…” (76-77).

While a parable of Buddhist enlightenment is entertaining, it is nevertheless disappointing when you are expecting a book about seagulls, or a book narrated from the perspective of a seagull. Jonathan never eats a fish.

The illustrations/photos in the book are less of a disappointment. They get far closer to the supposed “majesty” of Jonathan-the-buddah-seagull by representing seagulls (writ large) as majestic creatures.

Now that I’ve finished this last book on the non-human protagonists list I’m prepared to declare this category a wash. I’ll have to review my notes in detail, but I’m confident that I didn’t read a book with a non-human protagonist that wasn’t, in fact, a human protagonist. Cursed be the limitations of the (my) human imagination.

Leave a comment

Filed under 100 Books of 2011, Worst Books

Tagged as , , ,

October 29, 2011 · 3:44 pm

The Loving Dead: Really bad.

    Maybe I just don’t get the whole “zombie” thing. Don’t get me wrong, like the next 20s something I have a zombie-pocalpyse escape plan, have watched enough zombie films to know zombies are “cool,” and am forwarded by I. relevant zombie-in-the-news stories. But I don’t get the appeal enough to enjoy (or even want to read) Amelia Beamer’s The Loving Dead. No wait, I think it’s Beamer’s fault for writing a boring, predictable, boring, and boring book, because I liked Wide Sargasso Sea (zombies) and The Forest of Hands Teeth (more zombies). So I take it back. I don’t blame zombies for the terrible book I just suffered through: I blame the lack of plot, character, setting, theme and ability to narrate without the use of clumsy descriptions.

I guess the thing that’s supposed to make the book appealing is that zombification takes place by way of sex, and that zombies can be controlled through sadistic whip lashings. As if somehow by describing lesbian sex and sadism I’m going to forget the narrative is TERRIBLE.

Leave a comment

Filed under 100 Books of 2011, Worst Books

Tagged as , , , ,

September 30, 2011 · 3:07 am

The Lovely Bones: So. bad.

      I feel like this one might an “emperor’s new clothes” kind of case. I mean, it can’t be that so many reviewers out there got it so. wrong. It must be instead that someone wrote a glowing review (maybe as a joke? maybe for cash money?) and then rather than admit that they couldn’t see that there was nothing but a terrible, awful, no good, very bad book, everyone sort of shrugged and said, yeah, well, okay, it’s worth a read. No, no it’s not.

I’m feeling so scathing I think it might be time for another itemized list of the bad (I know, you’ve been waiting and hoping):

1. Little white girls: The book opens with an preface/acknowledgement (sort of) that girls of all colours get kidnapped and killed. And then begins a (very) uncomfortable foray into the fetishization of little white girls. Cue the “daughter-daddy” creepiness of Purity Balls.

2. Characterization: I do not care for characters because I know what kind of shampoo they use, or what drink they like after dinner. The novel reads like an endless exercise in character sketches with characters routinely brushing hair from their eyes and holding ceramic mugs of tea. I care for characters when I’m privy – through thought or action – to their motivations, not simply their thoughts or actions. “I felt sad,” is not character development.

3. Similes. With the (only) exception of Tom Robbins, authors who write purposefully vague or unusual similes (like the chestnut sun, like the tired watermelon) should have a firm and persuasive editor remind them that no reader wants to read those similes, and especially not for pages and pages on end.

4. A cliche conclusion to a trite and cliche novel is alas, cliche. I just have to say it: an icicle?! Are you kidding?! An icicle?!

5. “Buckley” is not an endearing name for a little boy. I kept confusing him with the dog. Maybe because he and the dog had the same level of character development?

6. I’ve had a glass of wine and feel like I may be being unfair. And then I think again about the icicle, and realize I’m not.

But I do think I’ll stop there. I’m not out of reasons I don’t like the book, but I am out of patience for thinking about it. For once I’m pleased I have a terrible memory, here’s hoping this one disappears quickly.

Leave a comment

Filed under 100 Books of 2011, Fiction, Worst Books

Tagged as , , , ,