Oh, Kristin. I am disappoint.
Wednesday, November 17th, 2010 04:27 pmUh-hu. You do realise that there are women who look at other women that way, right...?
Ugh.
I just realised that I haven't updated this thing since August. I can't remember half the things I read since then, so this is more an informed guess than a correct account of what I've been reading since then. I can definitely remember reading four books, the first four listed here. I can't really get them in any sort of order, though.
53.
Maskerade, Terry Pratchett.
It's an old favourite solely because of Agnes. I am not that fond of the story, but I love Agnes. She is one of the most realistic characters he has ever written, and much of the things which happen to her from the "but she has a wonderful personality" to the fact that she would never be the one to be looked after after a fainting fit but always the one to fetch cold water is incredibly spot on. Crocky and I are reading it together, and it seems that with his observances about opera in particular and the performing arts in general, Terry Pratchett is incredibly and unsurprisingly spot on.
52.
Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris.
I love reading his books. Even though I'm usually not a fan of books comprising of anecdotal writing, but he is so funny that it works well. I usually end up reading them out to Crocky because I want to share the funnier bits. Especially his exploits as a language student are incredibly entertaining and reminded me a lot of my own experiences as a language student abroad.
51.
Nation, Terry Pratchett.
Interview with Terry Pratchett on the book.
I usually buy P'Terry's books as soon as they come out, but with this one, I felt slightly sceptical that it would live up to my expectations, which it did, of course. The way the characters deal with the trauma of having lost everything they have known, the way they struggle to find their new position in life as their reality is toppled upside down and everything they have come to take for granted is called into question after the tidal wave which brought them together is much more interesting to read than other, similar "stranded on a desert island" books. What made this book for me are the asides on cultural relativism, cultural equality and the history of science, though. I've always have been a big fan of those.
50.
Monstrous Regiments, Terry Pratchett.
I did not really like this book when I read it first because I did not really like the ending too much although it is realistic as it does capture the complicated nature of situations like these for which there is no simple solution, especially none that help from the outside can provide. I get that. I still felt very uncomfortable with peace-loving Terry Pratchett writing about wars and soldiers.
Still, it is a good book. I do like the characters, his take on gender, patriotism, faith and fanatism.
49.
Artemis Fowl and the Time Paradox, Eoin Colfer.
Wow. I love his books, but this one was really, really less good than I thought it should be. Not only does he exploit the "sick mother" trope ad nauseam, he also uses it and the "dead mother" as a reason to justify all sorts of really unlogical actions and decisions. As much as I love his characters, what he does to them in this book is not really in character for any of them. Yes, it is fun, seeing the old Artemis again, and it is fun reading the interaction of Holly and Artemis, but the plot is forced, the decisions the characters make are not explained or motivated sufficiently, and the characterisation is stretched too much to be comfortable. They practically creak in some scenes.
Also, Colfer can't write little children, much less gifted little children, to save his life. Yes, it is really hard, but it's not as though it isn't possible to do some research or watch a bleeding documentary on gifted children online, at least.
As for what is probably one of the most frequently discussed scene - the Holly/Artemis moment - as squee-worthy as it was, it made me feel very uncomfortable. I don't like the way Holly is changing. Holly is one of my favourite female characters, and the way this character is undermined by the strereotypes she gets saddled with more and more is making me uncomfortable. Holly, the kick-ass-eager-to-prove-herself-Holly from the first book would not likely tear up and go on rescue missions because of her dead mother. She also would not kiss Artemis. Yes, their interaction changed them, but I doubt that it would have changed her this much.
48.
Sons and Lovers, D. H. Lawrence
I had expected more, somehow. I do like this book, especially the characterisation of the married couple in the first couple of chapter, but the way he describes Paul Morel's characters' sexual exploits somehow did not really work for me. The importance placed on sex in the novel and the extra dimensions it receives somehow annoy me. I like my sex, and I like it a lot, but it is just that, sex, not something offering a deeper insight into the mystical nature of anything, or a spiritual union.
Autumn Term, by Antonia Forest.
It's one of the Faber Children's Classics, and it is utterly awesome. Even though I had the feeling that it must have been published a hundred years before it actually was published, it is a really enjoyable read.
It describes the first term at school of the twins Nick and Lawrie, who join their four older sisters at an all-girls boarding school. Instead of immediately making IIIA like all their sisters did, they are downgraded to the Third Remove because they were not able to learn a lot at home due to various illnesses. Their attempts to shine like their siblings generally end in dismay, until one of their friends decides to write, direct and produce a stage-play for the school's open day, The Prince and the Pauper, in which the twins receive main roles and which earns them a lot of recognition.
The plot is not really the main reason to enjoy this book, but the all-girls boarding school thing got me, as well as the absolutely wonderful characters and the author's style.The interaction between the sibling is very spot on, the language is pretty, the characterisation is subtle and the characters are lovely. Even though I can't say I am interested in Lawrie and Nick a lot, it's still fun reading their exploits, even though I am more interested in their siblings, especially Kay and Rowan.
Character | Points |
Giles | II |
Peter | |
Rowan | IIIIIIII |
Ginty (Virginia) | |
Anne | |
Karen (Kay) | IIII |
Laurie (Lawrence) | |
Nick (Nicola) | |
Tim (Thalia) | I |
Marie | I |
Father | I |
Ms Keith | I |
Ms Jennings | II |
Wings, by Terry Pratchett.
The final instalment in the Bromeliad trilogy. This is Masklin's story and how he managed to get back to their mother ship and get back to Grimma and the store nomes in the quarry.
Which I did not finish because it had been put on hold by someone at the library and I had to take it back earlier than I would have liked. I never thought this instalment was as interesting as the other two, even though Masklin is as likeable as ever and even though the store nomes reaction to meeting a decendant of his deity is hilarious.
Diggers, by Terry Pratchett.
Living together in a disused quarry, especially the store nomes have troubles adjusting and putting by old feuds. Masklin, the main character, decides to go and get help from a decendant of the store nomes "deity" who founded the store. In his absence, the quarry is re-opened and Grimma, who now leads the nomes even though she is female, acts to save them.
Again, my gender-goggles were pleased, even though I keep thinking that Terry Pratchett's positive message is made easier by the fact that his female characters are all coming directly out of deeply prejudiced worlds which are just moving on to more equality. Still, I have a very soft spot for Grimma.
Truckers, by Terry Pratchett41.
Four-inch or so tall people, originally form outer space, the nomes, who live next to a motorway decide to improve their perilous condition by moving, use on of the trucks that sometimes come by, and find out that there are nomes which live in a store. When the store has to be demolished, they leave together.
When I first read these books, I read them in German on a train ride back from my elderly relatives in Essen and frequently I had to literally bite my hand to stop myself from making a spectacle of myself by repeatedly getting into laughing fits. On second reading, in English, ten years later, I do not find these novels THAT funny anymore, but these predecessors of the Wee Free Men, successors of the Carpet People are still interesting enough for me to read all three novels. Again, my gender-goggles are deeply gratified by the progress perceptible in this world, and even though the plot itself is nothing that new, there are many elements to the story that I liked a lot, like the religion the store gnomes have.
Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett.
A story about the first female wizard who goes to Ankh-Morpork's famous Unseen University, or tries to, as women can't enter the university.
Not in this pretty version, obviously. What I love about Terry Pratchett is that you can analyse his books at leisure and still hardly ever be disappointed. I have never used race goggles on his books, he may have skeletons in the closet there, but gender-wise, and my gender-spectacles are permanent by now, I'm afraid, this man is perfect. This is one of his earliest novels and even though he cheerfully draws on the same stereotypes as many of his Fantasy-writing colleagues do it does not matter, as he does so tongue-in-cheek, as he deconstructs the things he does use as he goes along. The deeply prejudiced world he depicts at the beginning of the story is already going somewhere by the end of the novel, and this deeply optimistic view of his world as a place which starts out bad but is evolving to something better every novel makes his Discworld novels such a great read.
Slam, by Nick Hornby.
Still one of my favourite books, and I am still not sure what to think of the content. It is an interesting commentary on teenage fatherhood, in a genre in which I've only ever encountered accounts of teenage motherhood, and the style make this one awesome, but there are just some things I really have problems with, like Sam being "whizzed into the future" by a poster. Just... No.
Herr Lehmann, by Sven Regener.
The first chapter I slept through entirely. I was bored and annoyed by the main character and really, really could not be bothered to feel for him. This continued to stay the same until his best friend was about to have a nervous breakdown. Before that, the plot just seems to be incredibly bland, and the style aggravating, a variation of "young male intellectual gets laid by beautiful woman". Who at first appears to be a match for his loquaciousness, but then is of coursed too baffled by the sheer force of his manly maleness and rhetoric to continue being brainy.
From the moment on at which his best friend starts cracking up I started to love this story, and now the novel's strange, passiv and detached, yet supposedly brilliant and completely useless main character are somehow endearing to me. The way it utterly fails to give an account or relate the events in this novel to the political situation of the Wende is believable, as the more significant events of the political reality completely get lost among the gritty, smaller events of every-day life.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The End, by Daniel Handler.
I am still not sure what to make of this ending. There seem to be some loose ends, but I daresay that it's possible to assemble clues from the series to fill in the blanks. I don't really know what to make of the dilemma that the last book's end presented me with, though, and I like that. It seems that the series itself leaves the heroes in this grey zone between heroes and villains, and that is a really awesome thing to do at the end of a series for young readers. I also loved learning more about Count Olaf's backstory, curiously enough.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Penultimate Peril, by Daniel Handler.
Another better novel. It's awesome to finally meet the sister of the fictional author of the story. The added information on the main plot were really worth the read, although I had a hard time justifying the actions of the children towards the end of the series. It seems very hard to do, and even though I feel that the plot means to make them remain in the roles of heroes, their actions rather show that they have become, in fact, villains. I'm really curious how the last book deals with that.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Grim Grotto, by Daniel Handler.
Another great instalment that was fun reading. Especially the introduction of yet another grey zone between heroes and villain made this book really awesome for me.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Slippery Slope, by Daniel Handler.
I loved this one, really loved. The way the romance sub-plot is not played out as something of utmost importance, finding out about V.F.D, the continued use of the Swinburne-quote - I loved it. Finally, the overall plot has gathered some momentum, and the style continues to stay awesome. I also stopped being aggravated by the lack of realism in the baby's behaviour.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Carnivorous Carnival, by Daniel Handler.
This book was really interesting. It's slightly depressing that this is really the first one which is so thoroughly entertaining and quite suspenseful at times, although I couldn't say whether or not this wasn't already the case in the eighth book, which was out at the time and which I had to skip.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Vile Village. by Daniel Handler.
Yay! Finally! Plot! The return of the useless guardian is even made bearable by that.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Ersatz Elevator, by Daniel Handler.
This book had one of the most annoyingly unrealistic scenes of the entire bloody series - the baby climbing up the elevator using her teeth. No creative licence in the world can make that ok. Also, the reappearance of the one evil-and-one-incompetent-guardian-thing makes this boring. The glimpses of an underlying plot of the series makes it worth the read, though.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Austere Academy, by Daniel Handler.
I really enjoyed reading about the Triplets, although the more blatant moments of children's literature and the resulting lack of realism and sense were annoying again. I liked that there seems to be plot on the horizon there somewhere. Can't wait.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Miserable Mill, by Daniel Handler.
Yawn. Also, the less realistic things are getting annoying. I still enjoy the Snicket parts and the style, but the children's book literature moments get on my nerves.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Wide Window, Daniel Handler.
I hated this one with the passion of a hundred flaming suns. Why? Because of the fact that one of the brats thought that the henchman of the sinister Count Olaf whose gender is unclear is the "scariest", and apparently because of that alone, and because they called hir an "it".
The "hooked arm" and "wooden leg" things were bad enough, but this one was really over the top, as it seemed to be the only reason for the person to be horrible.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Reptile Room, Daniel Handler.
Even as a young child I would have found Mr Poe too aggravating to believe. I do wonder about the dedications of the books, though, and I've come to like the tone. On the whole, the backstory of Lemony Snicket is far more interesting to read about and think about than the children's predicament. The two layers of the story work very well together.
Maybe it's only because I've gotten used to them, but the characters seem rather likeable all of the sudden, and although I still find it very difficult to actually sympathise with them, they do seem likeable.
A Series of Unfortunate Events - The Bad Beginning, Daniel Handler.
I think I'm only reading the series because I couldn't resist the temptation and irresistible appeal of the cover and design of the books.
I have to say that I hated the movie, but that was mostly due to the presence of Jim Carey whom I really can't abide. I think that the Eternal Sunshine and The Truman Show were the only movies which feature him which didn't make me aggressive and nauseous in equal parts.
Something about the books strikes me as incredibly phoney, which may well be the attempt to stuff as much Gothic-novelesque imagery into this book as humanly possible combined with the language. It's like a Tim Burton movie in book form for early readers.
The language of the narrator annoys me slightly, but I think that I would have enjoyed the books as a young child, before the missing logic would have gotten on my nerves.
Homoplot - The Coming-Out Story and Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Identity, by Esther Saxey.
I hate coming out stories, and this book raises a few very interesting and critical issues about the genre. So far it's very interesting.
Dress Your Family in Cordoroy and Denim, David Sedaris.24.
I have to admit that after reading the enthused voices of various newspaper critics on the first page I would have expected something completely different, but I am by no means disappointed. I love the main character, Sedaris' style and the way he effortlessly combines autobiographic episodes with social commentary and humour.
Not as "Hilarious!!!" as the critics said, but I love it nontheless. Or maybe I misunderstand the meaning of "hilarious". I always thought that that meant something like "pant-wettingly funny", but that's not what this book is to me; it has a rather heart-warming, if sometimes slightly wry humour? Hmm.
Who cares about English Usage?, David Crystal.
Oh, this is a book that several of our prescriptive grammarians need, need, need to read. It's both short and also a really funny read, and illustrates some of the things very nicely which grammar nazis on the intarwebz regularly throw fits about and which are just evidences of language changing, as it tends to. Good heavens.
("S.O.S., as everyone knows, stands for 'Save Our Syntax'. At various places in this book, I'll be discussing under this heading a grammatical point which regularly causes people to send up distress rockets, and demand linguistic lifejackets.")
Drachen, by Joseph Nigg. (How to raise and keep a dragon)22.
This probably doesn't even count as a book, but it is so incredibly cute I wanted to include it.
The English Language - a guided tour of the language, by David Crystal. For my semester, or at least the WS0203 IELS course, the Welsh professor probably is the godfather of Linguistics, as we were treated to a taped lecture he held in Hamburg a few semesters before by our teacher, Ada Whitaker.21.
("Accommodation has gotten me into the worst sort of trouble. I was talking to another arts enthusiast in Glasgow the other day, and we were agreeing about funding and exhibitions and all sorts of other topics, and after a while, Ah felt me voice go like thes. And then it happened. My partner in conversation was delighted and asked, 'Are ye from Glasgow?" Now, there's the problem - the Glaswegians are used to having their accent ridiculed, and react rather violently, so what was I supposed to say? 'No!' - he would think that I was making fun of him, and he would hit me. 'Yes!' - 'Which part of Glasgow?' - 'Uh, I don't know!' - and he would hit me again.")
Eric, or Little by Little, by Frederic William Farrar.20.
A boarding school novel. A gripping tale of the snares of moral corruption that lurk behind every corner in the every-day life of a schoolboy in the nineteenth century (like cheating in exams, smoking the pipe, or using bad language that god does not delight in, oh my).
Most of the conflicts that arise between the students and the teachers seem absolutely ludicrous (one boy pinned a note that said "[teacher] is a surly devil" to the board and did not confess when he had the choice. As a punishment, he was "tried" in a mock trial by the entire student body. Their punishment for him was making him "walk the gauntlet", a beating from all of his fellow students. He was also subsequently caned in front of the entire school by the headmaster and expelled afterwards) from today's perspective - or at least my perspective, but it is still a charming window into a world that is comparatively whole and simple.
Middlemarch, by George Eliot.19.
Mostly because I couldn't remember what happens towards the last third of the novel. I like it a lot, although there are parts that are incredibly tedious, and parts that are incredibly charming.
Reading Lolita in Teheran, by Azar Nafisi. (Reading "Lolita" in Teheran - a memoir in books)18.
A fascinating read with many unbelievable insights into the daily life of an Iranian college professor. It made many of the things I already know about more real and thereby more horrifying.
Mein Herz so weiß,by Xavier Marias. (A Heart so white)17.
Homeland, by R. A. Salvatore.
Ever sinceduckygirlrocks wrote that entry in her LJ about the main character I wanted to read the series.
It is good so far, although I had to take the book back to the library before I finished reading it, though, so I still need to take it out again to find out how it actually ends. Needless to say, someone else has it in their clutches now and won't give it back.
Slam, by Nick Hornby.13.
So the drooling in front of the shelf with the hardcover version is finally over. I could not wait to get my hands on this one. So far (p.13), it's a really good read, not that I seriously had expected anything else. Nick Hornby is one of the few authors who really have never disappointed me. Even though there are recurring patterns, especially as far as the structure of his characters is concerned, his books remain very distinct, probably because the topics they deal with are so different.
Imperium, Robert Harris.I really should read more historic novels, they are usually fun ways of reading an interpretation of times past, and looking up on whether they are historical correct is also good for jogging the memory. Which reminds me, I really need to check out the series by Rebecca Gablé that
An account of Cicero's life told by his slave - this biography actually existed, but was lost. It covers his life until he is elected Consul.
Even though the main focus of the story is obviously the political manoeuvres necessary to get him there, my favourite character will forever be the orator's wife Terentia. She is such an incredibly strong woman, and I admire her greatly. I will never forgive Cicero, the historical figure, nor the character in this book, for leaving her for a much younger girl late in life. Of course I can't know the circumstances and he probably did have his reasons, but I find it very hard to understand how anyone can want to leave this amazing woman.
Brushing up names of speeches and politicians as well as some of the affairs while reading this did not do any harm, either, considering that I had to translate parts of the very speeches he was writing in the book in my Latin class this week. It's a nice way of bringing the world back to life.
Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby.
I love Nick Hornby. Whenever I buy one of his book I get uneasy and hesitate, worried that it might not be as good as the preceding ones. It was the same with this one, but of course, again, I have not been disappointed. This one was no exception, of course.
New Moon, by Stephanie Meyer.10.
I am not sure what to say. I enjoyed reading it a lot and was unable to put it down, while I was not thinking about it and merely concentrating on the characters, who have really grown on me. I love Jakob, in particular, which is most probably because I love werewolves. Lupin is probably the only werwolf in fiction I did not get exited about in the slightest. Oh, well, and the ones in Holbein's Wolfsherz or what it was called were not too great, either, but that's mostly down to the awfulness of the author.
As soon as I put it down, the months of discussing the role of women in Harry Potter and the resulting voices became difficult to close out and I am ( not so sure about it now. )
Art & Lies. A Tale for Three Voices and a Bawd, Jeanette Winterson.9.
Not sure what to make of this yet.
Penguin's Poems for Life, Laura Barber (ed.)
Oh this made me so angry. It sucks. The poems don't, but the selection isn't very good to fit the (megalomaniac) title. It should be called, "Poems for Life for Men over fifty" or something, because the way she presents "life" and it's relevant issues through her selection clearly is not intended, by and large, for anyone who is not a British heterosexual upper middle class white male over fifty - although there are a few poems that are not exclusively directed at that target group. Well, maybe she has a point, maybe only that part of the population would buy and read a Penguin anthology called "poems for life". The "love" section especially is aggravating. It's almost exclusively men's experiences of first love.
It is difficult, of course, as the vast majority of canonical poets out there are heterosexual males who wrote for heterosexual males, I am aware of that. Still.