September 7, 2011 · 12:03 am

Berlin – City of Stones: Building to Better

     Little to say about Berlin: City of Stones except that I liked it more and more as the book went on, which makes me think that I might need to continue with the series (how long is the series? I don’t know). My initial dissatisfaction was with the wide cast of characters and my apparent inability to keep them all straight, but as the book went on I worked them out, and so, enjoyed it more (definitely the case where the reader is at fault!).

I did enjoy the attention to Germany in the interwar period, as I find too often the historical fiction I read about Germany seems overly preoccupied with glamorizing Hitler, or making it out like Germany’s history was somehow an inevitability. This book nuances the emergence of National Socialism against a wider international history and a focused exploration of particular families and individuals who made decisions that impacted ‘history’ as we know it now.

I had to say the sexy scenes in the ‘Garden of Eden’ were just weird.

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September 6, 2011 · 12:44 am

Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie: Cute

                            Not your classic who-done-it (whodunnit?), but somehow formulaic (in the manner of a Law and Order episode, where you’re certain the first few suspects are not the killer, and then when the killer is revealed, you’re pretty sure some elaborate withholding was necessary for you to miss the plot point that made the killer’s motive make sense), I understand the success of Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. Complete with a precocious eleven year old narrator – and who doesn’t love a precocious child narrator who let’s us feel like we, too, were once bright and loquacious youth? – and a wry British humour, the book reads easily.

I say cute, recognizing how I bristle when the adjective is applied to myself, because the book seems to simply want to entertain: a straightforward mystery plot, an engaging – however poorly fleshed out – protagonist, and a sensible tone. Maybe I ought to reconsider my response to ‘cute’ when applied to me, as I see now that the descriptor is not always meant in a pejorative sense (though it does carry those connotations) but rather in the sense of harmless, endearing, and altogether delightful (I’ll assume that’s what people mean when they call me cute…).

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August 31, 2011 · 5:46 pm

Among the Missing: Thematically Sound (if sad)

                                 Among the Missing is a collection that reminds me why I dislike short stories as a genre. Characters are introduced, developed, and then the story ends. I enjoyed the collection because it holds together thematically very well. The plot sequence of a disappeared body frames a discussion of how we lose track of ourselves over our lifetime, how we lose connections with those we purport to love.

The story “Here’s a Little Something to Remember Me By,” particularly interested me in the way it weaves together questions of memory – how accurately can we remember the past? – with those of identity – how well can/do the people around us know who we are? Can we ever be known by someone else? – and with the terribly certainty that our lives will always be a ruined version of what we once imagined.

The nostalgia for a life led in possibility and hope permeates the collection. While  I didn’t find myself identifying with the protagonists – didn’t find myself (yet) willing to admit the disappearance of my life as I imagine(d) it – I couldn’t help but be affected by the pessimism of the collection, the quiet tragedy of an argument for life as a disappointment; dreams, plans and schemes as inevitably lost. So not a cheery collection, by any stretch of the imagination, but one that consistently and carefully considers what we lose by living.

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August 28, 2011 · 10:09 pm

The Art of Racing in the Rain: Not good.

                               A weekend spent in E. with my parents meant I read a lot. Too bad I finished the weekend with such a terrible book. Garth Stein’s The Art of Racing in the Rain has been widely celebrated, but for reasons I’m struggling to understand.

I suppose it’s a feel-good book. The reincarnated dog returns to his master, the widowed husband gets judicial vindication and his choicest job, the mother who died of cancer died because she didn’t ‘fight’ hard enough. The overarching message is one of terrible cliche and terrible responsibility: if you want it hard enough you can have it.

I say terrible responsibility because how cruel to suggest, (nay, to preach as this novel does) that cancer, or unemployment, or lawsuits are somehow the manifestation – or lack of manifestation – of individual wishes/desires. Karma! The book actually suggests karma to be the source or cause of misfortune and reward. *Note: I am not, at all, taking issue with karma as a philosophical idea; rather, I’m very uncomfortable with the quasi-mystical, entirely uncomplicated use of “karma” and “spirit” used throughout this book.

Combine the uncomfortable (or disturbing) morality of the novel with a dog narrator and excessive use of life is like a racetrack metaphor and you have yourself a terrible novel. 

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