by Rachel Joyce
4 out of 5 stars
This
story is kind of Anne Tyler-ish, which is a good thing. I actually
enjoyed the characters more than I have some of Tyler's characters
lately, which is an even better thing. It's not terribly fast paced or
action packed, but it's an entertaining study of fragility and strength,
and how sometimes these two things go together. The only problem I have
with books (or movies) like these is the expectation that I, as a
reader (or viewer) will willingly accept that people are this simple
minded and so lacking in introspection. Is it really true, or is this
just a literary technique I'm not aware of? At any rate, the gentle,
unlikely hero, Harold, makes a literal and metaphorical journey while
his emotionally dead wife, Maureen, who is a hero in her own right, does
the same. How their paths eventually (re)converge and rekindle a
40-some-year marriage is sweet and, thankfully, not neatly tied up with a
bow.
Someone
by Alice McDermott
3 out of 5 stars
This is a fairly slow-moving, unremarkable story about an unremarkable woman. It's actually marketed as the story of an "unremarkable woman's unforgettable life," which you would think would be kind of an advertising blunder, but if you're a 3x Pulitzer-prize nominee, maybe you can get away with it. At any rate, Someone is indeed captivating and quite interesting in a quiet NPR kind of way.
The time frame is between WWI and WWII, and it's set in Brooklyn, so that's kind of charming and becomes a bit of a character unto itself, and our heroine Marie is both milktoast and plucky at the same time.
While the plot is kind of vanilla (but who doesn't like vanilla?), the writing is really great. I was very much drawn into this character's world -- which spans pretty much her whole life from age seven until she's dying "in her own efficient, getting-on-with-it way" in an assisted living home. The minutia and seemingly forgettable moments in between those two bookends in time are indeed poignant and memorable.
3 out of 5 stars
This is a fairly slow-moving, unremarkable story about an unremarkable woman. It's actually marketed as the story of an "unremarkable woman's unforgettable life," which you would think would be kind of an advertising blunder, but if you're a 3x Pulitzer-prize nominee, maybe you can get away with it. At any rate, Someone is indeed captivating and quite interesting in a quiet NPR kind of way.
The time frame is between WWI and WWII, and it's set in Brooklyn, so that's kind of charming and becomes a bit of a character unto itself, and our heroine Marie is both milktoast and plucky at the same time.
While the plot is kind of vanilla (but who doesn't like vanilla?), the writing is really great. I was very much drawn into this character's world -- which spans pretty much her whole life from age seven until she's dying "in her own efficient, getting-on-with-it way" in an assisted living home. The minutia and seemingly forgettable moments in between those two bookends in time are indeed poignant and memorable.
The Dog Stars
by Peter Heller
4 our of 5 stars
I did really love this book, but dang, it was at times SO ANNOYING to read. I see other reviewers commented on this, so I don’t think I’m being unreasonable in expecting authors to please STOP with the “artistic” lack of grammar and, hey, let’s just not even bother with quotation marks. I mean, WTF. Is this a trend now? No punctuation? Never letting your readers know when someone is actually talking vs. thinking to themselves? I think you can still be true to your character and impart mood and angst and whatever other emotional setting that’s needed without driving your readers completely bat-shit crazy. If you want to be all creative and exercise your poetic license, write a fucking poem. Preferably a short one, because shit like this? Really, really annoying:
For the dog he said. Angry. Because I didn't do my job. To him.
But.
Honestly. WTH.
That said, there were other sentences, paragraphs, and whole chapters that were absolutely beautiful. Which is a nice juxtaposition to what was happening in the story: namely, a super flu has wiped out most of the population, so it’s every person for him/herself. That would be bleak if it weren’t for the fact that Hig and his ex-military-NRA-freak-on-overdrive neighbor are living in Colorado on what you have to admit is a pretty sweet homestead, all things considered. So again, great contrast and character study, not to mention gorgeous scenery in an ominous setting. It’s like there’s a veeeerrrry subtle undertone in a minor key running through this whole story, so you really feel the underpinnings of loss and despair even while you’re also thinking, “Honestly now, this doesn’t sound half bad!”
One thing that bothered me is the assumption that the majority of humans left have turned into marauding sociopaths, and society has gone all Lord of the Flies. Yes, people can suck, and we see evidence of soulless asshats acting on their base instincts every day, but I dunno; I’d like to think that even in the face of such adversity, the instinct of most people might be to come together. Form alliances. Or at least not kill and eat each other immediately without, you know, a little conversation first.
So despite my criticisms, I still highly recommend this book. It’s a great escape, contains some beautiful imagery and survivalist adventure while still being a thought-provoking study of love, loss, hopelessness and hope, and also flying. The flying parts are great!
4 our of 5 stars
I did really love this book, but dang, it was at times SO ANNOYING to read. I see other reviewers commented on this, so I don’t think I’m being unreasonable in expecting authors to please STOP with the “artistic” lack of grammar and, hey, let’s just not even bother with quotation marks. I mean, WTF. Is this a trend now? No punctuation? Never letting your readers know when someone is actually talking vs. thinking to themselves? I think you can still be true to your character and impart mood and angst and whatever other emotional setting that’s needed without driving your readers completely bat-shit crazy. If you want to be all creative and exercise your poetic license, write a fucking poem. Preferably a short one, because shit like this? Really, really annoying:
For the dog he said. Angry. Because I didn't do my job. To him.
But.
Honestly. WTH.
That said, there were other sentences, paragraphs, and whole chapters that were absolutely beautiful. Which is a nice juxtaposition to what was happening in the story: namely, a super flu has wiped out most of the population, so it’s every person for him/herself. That would be bleak if it weren’t for the fact that Hig and his ex-military-NRA-freak-on-overdrive neighbor are living in Colorado on what you have to admit is a pretty sweet homestead, all things considered. So again, great contrast and character study, not to mention gorgeous scenery in an ominous setting. It’s like there’s a veeeerrrry subtle undertone in a minor key running through this whole story, so you really feel the underpinnings of loss and despair even while you’re also thinking, “Honestly now, this doesn’t sound half bad!”
One thing that bothered me is the assumption that the majority of humans left have turned into marauding sociopaths, and society has gone all Lord of the Flies. Yes, people can suck, and we see evidence of soulless asshats acting on their base instincts every day, but I dunno; I’d like to think that even in the face of such adversity, the instinct of most people might be to come together. Form alliances. Or at least not kill and eat each other immediately without, you know, a little conversation first.
So despite my criticisms, I still highly recommend this book. It’s a great escape, contains some beautiful imagery and survivalist adventure while still being a thought-provoking study of love, loss, hopelessness and hope, and also flying. The flying parts are great!
The Age of Miracles
by Karen Thompson Walker
4 out of 5 stars
I never wanted to write up a review that said “this book really affected me,” but this book did, so I guess I’ll have to suck it up and admit that I found (and find) myself thinking about it at odd times. Like when I notice it’s still daylight when I leave work, or gas jumps up $.20 in a day, or I hear about whales getting lost. I’m reminded of this story.
Actually, what this book reminds me of, more than anything, is “…it’s never the disasters you see coming that finally come to pass; it’s the ones you don’t expect at all.”
Amen, sister. And by sister, I mean the pint-sized protagonist, Julia, who at 11 is trying to make sense of a world that’s slowing down. Literally. In this Age of Miracles, the earth has suddenly started spinning more slowly, resulting in the gradual (well, actually rapid) increase in time as we know it. More specifically, 60+-hour days and a whole bunch of consequences nobody really thought about ‘til now. Like gravity increasing, all kinds of climate change and environmental disarray, solar storms, a fissured atmosphere that leaks radiation, and the loss of all sorts of things we take for granted: lawns, birds, bananas, electricity and physics.
The chaos we might expect – panic, hoarding, and general freaking out – takes a back seat to Julia’s own issues and observations (the boy she has a crush on, mean girls, her father’s seeming infidelity with her piano teacher, and going to school in the dark), which in turn makes the potential for a dystopian downer much more palatable.
The foreshadowing in this book is a little heavy and, I felt, never really delivered. But I still enjoyed the storytelling and the thought provoking study (in which you do your own studying) on human nature and how something like this might really play out. Also kind of fascinating (to me) is how society almost immediately becomes divided into those who continue to live by a 24-hour clock and those who don’t, and how fragile the economy probably is…though I hope we never find out.
4 out of 5 stars
I never wanted to write up a review that said “this book really affected me,” but this book did, so I guess I’ll have to suck it up and admit that I found (and find) myself thinking about it at odd times. Like when I notice it’s still daylight when I leave work, or gas jumps up $.20 in a day, or I hear about whales getting lost. I’m reminded of this story.
Actually, what this book reminds me of, more than anything, is “…it’s never the disasters you see coming that finally come to pass; it’s the ones you don’t expect at all.”
Amen, sister. And by sister, I mean the pint-sized protagonist, Julia, who at 11 is trying to make sense of a world that’s slowing down. Literally. In this Age of Miracles, the earth has suddenly started spinning more slowly, resulting in the gradual (well, actually rapid) increase in time as we know it. More specifically, 60+-hour days and a whole bunch of consequences nobody really thought about ‘til now. Like gravity increasing, all kinds of climate change and environmental disarray, solar storms, a fissured atmosphere that leaks radiation, and the loss of all sorts of things we take for granted: lawns, birds, bananas, electricity and physics.
The chaos we might expect – panic, hoarding, and general freaking out – takes a back seat to Julia’s own issues and observations (the boy she has a crush on, mean girls, her father’s seeming infidelity with her piano teacher, and going to school in the dark), which in turn makes the potential for a dystopian downer much more palatable.
The foreshadowing in this book is a little heavy and, I felt, never really delivered. But I still enjoyed the storytelling and the thought provoking study (in which you do your own studying) on human nature and how something like this might really play out. Also kind of fascinating (to me) is how society almost immediately becomes divided into those who continue to live by a 24-hour clock and those who don’t, and how fragile the economy probably is…though I hope we never find out.
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