The Elegance of the Hedgehog – Muriel Barbery

General info:  novel, published in 2006

Storytelling: 8 – I had never heard of this book before I received it as a Christmas gift from a close family friend and she (another devout reader) admitted she’d never read it but that it just seemed to be such a “me” book. Hilariously, I opened the exact same book 20 minutes later from her son. Ok, Fates. I will hear your call.

This novel did indeed feel, look, and smell like a “me” book. There aren’t too many quirky Parisan novels written by philosophy professors lying around. The story focuses around two largely self-involved main characters: Renee, a homely fifty-four-year-old concierge of a luxury Parisian apartment building who lives life secretly as a prolific autodidact, and Paloma, a remarkably intelligent twelve-year-old who lives in the apartment building with her wealthy parents and plans to commit suicide on her birthday. These two start to interact in the most magical of ways when Ozu, a charming and extremely elegant Japanese retiree, moves into the building and starts to stir things up. He uncovers secrets hidden by both main characters and then suddenly and fittingly, the book ends in heartbreaking tragedy. It was definitely a different sort o’ tale.

My first big complaint is how slowly the character interaction unfolded. The solid first 65% of the book is spent deep in the psyches of Renee and Paloma and involves very minimal outside interaction. This part read mostly like a philosophy text (unsurprisingly), and I think at moments Barbery lost herself too far down that rabbit hole.  Once Ozu appeared and started to reveal the meat of the book, I found myself absolutely enchanted and feeling much closer to the characters.

My second big complaint, and this is largely preference, is how pretentious the whole concept of the book was. Barbery’s main point is that Renee is secretly superior to all of her wealthy tenants because she happens to be more intelligent than them. It even says as much on the book jacket! That’s a bit silly to me.  There are plenty of morally and emotionally intelligent people out there who might not have the highest IQ, and I’d like to think they’re superior to me. Get off your high horse, Barbery. Sheesh. Then again, I imagine this book might have had more of an impact in Europe, where class structure is still a bit old-fashioned. I was raised to believe we’re all equal.

I will say, however, I have to give Barbery’s storytelling a fairly high score because the ending with Renee’s death was so perfect, I literally said “Ah of course” out loud while I read it. It fit so perfectly with the story without being predictable…truly magnificent. This book was filled with other elegantly crafted tidbits that were wholly unlike any author I’ve read before. It was sad and magical, and entirely unique

Writing: 8 – The writing here was absolutely wonderful and very intellectual, but again I have to dock a point or two for the fact that it read largely like a philosophy text. Perhaps this was the point, but if you’re going to call something a ‘novel’, you can at least warn your reader that it’s also going to be an adventure into phenomenology and meditations on aesthetics. I love this stuff (well, when I can understand it…) but your Average Jane doesn’t, so I can see why several people who approached this book got scared away quickly. I do appreciate that this book forced me to think deeper-than-average thoughts, because I believe we all need a good dose of that every so often.

I also wonder what part of Barbery’s writing was lost in the translation. I can’t imagine much, because it was superb, but I did feel a certain disconnect between the cultures. I think the implications of some words would have been much more telling to a French reader. Ah well.

Characters: 6 – I really truly wanted to like these characters more than I did, mostly because they were so incredibly flawed and pathetic, but in the end they just ended up feeling a bit stale. I appreciated their diversity and how cleverly they were crafted, but beyond that I didn’t feel myself compelled toward any of them.

Renee’s grudge against the rich seems to have started as a child when she saw a wealthy young man (and his family, presumably) kick her pregnant sister to the curb, which lead to her demise. This big reveal fell pretty flat. It all didn’t suddenly fall into place for me, as I wish it had. I felt myself thinking “That’s it? Really?” Meanwhile, Paloma I found to be insufferable. I don’t quite believe that a twelve-year-old can be that amazingly intelligent and somehow keep it hidden. Barbery gives details about how Paloma does this, but it’s not like the signs of her vast brain could have been hidden throughout her younger years? How old was she when she started to hide her smarts? 3? It all seems rather unbelievable to moi.

I did like Ozu, but that’s because everyone is supposed to like Ozu. He’s the Jesus figure in this book since he seems to be the only one without an overly-inflated sense of self-importance and he can see through everyone. I suppose I am being rather harsh on Renee and Paloma, but I just wish Barbery would have just provided a touch more realistic complexity and then it would have all been just right.

Best part: How Renee’s death unfolds as she is hit be a truck while stepping out into the street to help a drunk homeless man. You’d have to read the book to truly grasp how perfect this ending was, or how excellent Renee’s post-death ruminations were. It all just played out so perfectly to me.

Recommend to:  I want to say my fellow philosophy minors, or anyone who likes to dabble in philosophy but still gets wee headaches grasping the deeper portions.

Reminded me of:  No one! This book was out of left field and I liked it that way.

How I would murder the main character: Well seeing as Renee does sort of get murdered, I’d have to say I’d stick Paloma in a beige, upper-middle class suburban home in America and force her to watch reality TV. I’d also feed her Taco Bell beef.

Sexy parts: When Renee first starts to realize that Ozu has romantic feelings for her, I did feel a bit of a happy flutter inside. I enjoyed their intelligent and flirtatious encounters, but would have perhaps liked if that went into more depth…

To sum it up: A thought-provoking and tragically magical look at dormant secrets and observations of the rich and poor

Overall: 7

Thunderstruck - Erik Larson

General info: historical nonfiction, published in 2006

Storytelling: 7 – I, like most people, read this book because I absolutely loved The Devil in the White City. Larson seemed to be using the same formula here by intertwining two stories, one about a grisly murder and one about a turning point for cultural/technical advancement.
This book disappointed me, but only because I had such high expectations. Admittedly, The Devil in the White City was a hard act to follow. (Lest you don’t know, DITWC covers the 1893 World’s Fair held in Chicago while telling the story of both the main architect of the fair and the serial killer H.H. Holmes who used the fair to draw in all sorts of unsuspecting victims. It’s truly awesome, so please go read immediately.) And I commend Larson for finding a unique formula and sticking to it for a second time. However, this book didn’t have the flair or the drive that DITWC had.
 Larson chose to tell the dual stories of Guglielmo Marconi, the inventor of the wireless telegraph, and Hawley Crippen, an unfortunate man who murdered his wife in London at the turn of the 20th century. The Marconi story bored me a bit, and I had to force myself through his chapters. Most of Marconi’s struggle was getting everyone in London to take him seriously, and he came across to me as an unlikeable snob who cared little for his others and could only focus on the success of his invention. He does eventually transmit a wireless signal across the Atlantic (the big goal of the book), but his wayward and sometimes frivolous advancements didn’t captivate me.
Crippen’s story, although a bit more interesting, also seemed lackluster at times. Crippen is a pathetic but kind-hearted man who marries a vain, and emotionally abusive woman. He stays married to her and continues to finance her expensive whims until, long story short, he falls in love with someone else and decides to murder his wife. The reader never finds out the motives of the crimes, or if in fact Hawley did commit the murder, but they find numerous human innards buried in the cellar of their house. Larson spends several chapters leading up to this development, and then when it finally comes, he writes a brief paragraph on Crippen’s execution and seems to be done with it. Huh?
The connection between these two stories seemed pretty weak as well. Crippen is caught trying to flee to the U.S. with his new lady, but thanks to Marconi’s new invention, they are able to pinpoint his whereabouts using wireless telegraphy. I didn’t find this big connection terribly convincing and I left the book thinking it was informative but “just ok”. Larson does earn points, however, for his fun facts incorporated throughout, and his amazing research skills are evident. I did learn quite a bit. Larson tells a great story with what material he has; I just didn’t happen to think the material was that engaging.

Writing: 7 – Larson is a marvelous writer, and I give him major points for his ability to organize the vast amount of information that he includes in his books. In addition to telling two complex stories at once, he’s also working hard to grab the reader and keep their interest. The most amazing thing to me about Larson’s writing is that he’s dealing with non-fiction. His novels read like a well-researched thriller, and you sometimes have to sit back and remind yourself that all of this truly happened.
However, writing a thriller is a double-edged sword, and Larson goes a little over the top sometimes. His cheesy cliffhangers really get old halfway through the book, and it became overly evident that he was trying a little too hard to make wireless telegraphy seem exciting. His dramatic prose got wearisome a few times. Larson is a writer who I’d prefer to stay crisp and exact but with a sense of humor. I’ll also repeat my complaint from above - that the pace of the book bored me, dragged, and got bogged down with details. I love Larson for being well-researched, and for wanting to share as much as possible, but the story suffered because of it. This book could have done with a bit more editing.

Characters: 6 – The characters in this book didn’t really grab me in the way I wanted them to. Sure, they all lived through some extraordinary life events, but I feel like Larson kept trying to add more pizzazz than there actually was.
Marconi just kind of seemed like an insensitive elitist, and I found myself caring little for his successes in the story. I mean, how exciting is it really to tinker with telegraph technology and then fight against other squabbling scientists for a patent? Not very. I do, however, have to give Larson a little credit for trying to add in excitement using very little. He drummed up enough to make Marconi’s life readable.
Crippen, however, just made me sad. I’m sure he was a nice enough guy who was just driven to murder in impossible circumstances. Now, obviously I don’t condone murder under any circumstances, but his wife sounded like an emotional wrecking ball of vanity and self-importance; I probably would’ve smacked her up. Crippen wasn’t a monster by any means (unlike H.H. Holmes…), and instead of feeling like justice was done, I just ended up feeling incredibly sorry for the guy. I’m not sure what Larson was getting at using this story, but it just seemed to completely not jive with Marconi’s. The only connection happened to be that they happened kind of around the same time. It all fit loosely together and felt forced.

Best part: I did like the little bit of suspense there was after Belle (Crippen’s wife) disappeared, and the reader had to wait anxiously to find out the details. The old school methods they used to figure out the details of the murder and which poisons might have been used were also pretty interesting.

Recommend to: History buffs (ideally ones interested in Edwardian London and/or scientific discoveries) who want to read something a little different.

Reminded me of: Hm. It really just reminded me of Devil in the White City, which is to be expected.

How I would murder the main character: I’d tie Marconi to the top of one of his failing electrical stations, force-feed him low quality food, and tell him how I was going to publicly unveil the details of his inventions.

Sexy parts: Crippen starts an affair with the poor Ethel La Neve, who he invites into his home as soon as his wife mysteriously disappears. He also lets her wear his wife’s clothing and her jewelry, and then he parades her around town like a prized peacock. Ok, so maybe this isn’t that sexy, but it’s sure sketchy.

To sum it up: A fairly entertaining but poorly-matched account of invention and marital mayhem at the turn of the 20th century

Overall: 7

Iberia - James Michener

General info: Non-fiction travelogue, published in 1968

Storytelling: 10 – My grandparents sent me this book after hearing I had planned a 10 day solo adventure through Spain and Portugal. According to Rick Steves (demigod of travel books and advice) this should be required reading for anyone planning to run around the Iberian peninsula, and I really couldn’t agree more. I learned a great deal about Spain, and I am excited to compare Michener’s observations with what I’ll see over there. I didn’t think it possible but I think it also made me even more excited for my trip.
I was a little daunted by the fact the book is 960 pages and printed in size six font, but I had to trust my well-traveled and well-read grandparents. I was hooked during the first chapter. Michener divides the book up into meaty chapters based on cities in Spain (aside from one chapter titled “The Bull”) and he includes many tales of his adventures in the outlying regions. This book was created after 30+ years of travels in Spain, so Michener had a lot of good content to work with (hence the size). Any traveler knows your best stories usually happen when you’re stuck in a small town in the middle of nowhere and no one speaks English, and Michener seems to have perfected this art. He includes all sorts of fun details about enjoying picnics in almond and orange fields, buying tickets for bullfights, enduring confusing train rides, and witnessing severe severe poverty. This is a grandiose collection of Michener’s observations as a humble tourist, and he approaches Spain with respect and curiosity (while also inserting his own ideas and opinions) which makes for great reading. And there are even occasional pictures!
However, Michener really impressed me by realizing that no one really wants to read 960 pages just about “This is what I did in Spain”. He infuses the book spectacularly with tidbits about history, architecture, Catholicism, art, food, bullfighting, flamenco, etc. etc. I had read that Michener researches his books tirelessly, and this is definitely the case; I learned a fantastic deal about Spanish history, and Michener was smart enough to include lots of juicy and scandalous details. He is also largely committed to researching the culture of Spain as a polite observer, and he seemed to have a knack for meeting all of the most interesting individuals. Unfortunately, this is all about 1930-1960’s Spain so as a traveler going in 2012 I’m sure things will be largely different, but you can’t really fault the book for being dated…and a tiny bit sexist.
 I really can’t find any issue with the way Michener structured this book and how his stories flowed smoothly into each other. I was entertained by a master storyteller and sailed through the pages.

Writing: 7.5 – I will admit that Michener’s writing is not for everyone; the man loves lengthy descriptive phrases, and his writing is quite dense. And for the most part, I’m all for that. This book is travel account + encyclopedia, and Michener is pretty clear about that. He’s a frank and straightforward writer who crafts a scene carefully while also keeping the reader engaged. It’s almost journalistic in style at times.
I found Michener to be a good writer and I obviously enjoyed his storytelling, but he wasn’t a great writer who was blowing my socks off. I didn’t find myself awe-struck by any passages, but I did find myself reflecting on how detailed they were and how honestly they were crafted. I’ll likely read Michener again, but it’ll likely be when I’m in a matter-of-fact mood…or when I’m about to travel someplace he’s written about.

Characters: 9 – Michener spent enough time in Spain to form a vast collection of fabulous friends from all over the country. I think he also started to become a fairly famous author, so seeking out the town major or a famous art collector became a little easier during his later travels. Also, give the variety of wacky experiences Michener has, this book introduces the reader to all sorts of delightful individuals. Michener interviews them all a bit, but many of them are eager to share their knowledge and tell their story. This book made me heart ache for European hospitality.
Since these were all real-life people, I can’t very well credit Michener with crafting these characters, but I was very impressed by the variety of people he met in Spain and the ease with which he introduced them to the reader. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get to meet one or two people as interesting when I’m off tromping.

Best part: I’d have to say either Michener’s super detailed account of the Holy Week parades in Seville, the opera and dances he sees in Barcelona, or if very first experience in Spain just outside of Valencia (where he first encounters flamenco). I am insanely jealous of all the cool stuff he got to experience.

Recommend to: All my traveling buddies, and obviously anyone going to Spain.

Reminded me of: You know, weirdly enough, his writing reminded me a lot of Rick Steves.

How I would murder the main character: Michener writes ad nauseum about birds, so I’d probably lock him in an overly decorous Virgin shrine (apparently these are all over Spain) with some carnivorous little birds. But I wouldn’t do that to Michener because he’s an ok guy.

Sexy parts: Obviously times have changed since the 60’s, but Michener offers some funny details about courting habits of Spanish teenagers. Women are expected to be demure and subservient, and the men are all insanely arrogant, according to Michener. And although he never gets graphic, it’s interesting how Michener talks about how sexually liberated young Swedish and German women are when compared to the more reserved Spaniards. We’ll see what I observe fifty years later.

To sum it up: A magical and enjoyable account of mid-century travels as told by a master storyteller.

Overall: 8.5

Violence & Compassion: Dialogues on Life Today - His Holiness the Dalai Llama with Jean-Claude Carriere

General info: Collection of dialogues, published in 1996

Storytelling: 8 – This book was pretty far out of my comfort zone, but I am always trying (and sometimes failing…) to push myself to read more non-fiction. This book spoke to me for multiple reasons, not least of which being that I’m at a phase in my life where I’m diving into my faith, getting more involved in my church, and figuring out “what the heck it all means”. I admittedly don’t know a whole lot about Buddhism or their take on things, so I figured I’d give this book a shot.
This book features a collection of conversations between His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Llama and the French screenwriter, Jean-Claude Carriere about some of the larger issues affecting our world today. It was kind of a brilliant way to get a lot of interesting tidbits from the Dalai Llama without forcing him to sit down and write out a hundred essays. So not much storytelling going on here, but I will give Carriere points for spicing up this book by sectioning it off wisely and adding in interesting and informative little essays throughout. He chops up the writing nicely to make it easier on the reader (just reading a huge book of dialogue would not be my cup of tea) and I found this to be an easy book to pick up during my lunch break.
Admittedly, I read this at a glacial pace, so I did not speed through it in rapt awe, but that has more to do with my tastes than the caliber of this book. As far as weaving a compelling story, Carriere addresses interesting topics (over-population, education, God, terrorism, the Big Bang, etc.), and he organizes them well while pushing the Dalai Llama to discuss some heavy stuff. I learned a ton about Buddhism (both as a science and as a set of spiritual beliefs) and a fair bit about the Chinese invasion of Tibet and the subsequent exile of the Dalai Llama. I was also surprised to learn how desperately the Dalai Llama thinks overpopulation is the root of many of the world’s issues. The book kept going back to this, and it really made me wonder about our future as a species.
However, and this may seem a very odd complaint, this book could have done with a little bit more humor. It got a little too heavy and prosaic at moments, which is somewhat necessary when you’re addressing the nature of the universe and if a God exists, but I kept getting brief intellectual headaches. I could physically feel my eyes glazing over when Carriere attempted, and somewhat failed, to address a particularly heavy tenet of Buddhism. Again, I’m not so much the ideal audience for this book, but I do believe I’m a pretty great reader and I’m a curious person, so I was a bit disappointed by this approach.

Writing: 8 – I admittedly was a bit apprehensive about a screenwriter doing a book, but then again, this was a brilliant move. Who better than a renowned screenwriter to capture a series of dialogues? This was no ordinary book and the writing was excellent, well-researched, and again, organized brilliantly. There are few things in this world that I love more than great organization. Carriere also added in details about the Dalai Llama’s reactions to certain subjects. For example, when he would pause to reflect or laugh about something, there would be a brief footnote explaining Carriere’s observations. I appreciated this touch.
Carriere is obviously a brilliant writer and this book is fantastically written. I just have to dock a few points for the few moments where it got a little too intellectual hoity-toity for me. It never got preachy, but Carriere kept losing me during the really deep and profound moments. I’ll share the blame and I definitely get a little ADD and disinterested from time to time, but I also have to point to the author a bit for this. I’ve read plenty of heavy non-fiction that has kept me engaged.

Characters: 9 – The Dalai Llama (I suppose I should mention that his name is actually Tenzin Gyatso) and an intellectual French screenwriter…you can’t really find a better duo. I loved the relationship between these two, and I especially enjoyed it when they disagreed a little bit. I feel like I would be terrified to disagree with the Dalai Llama, but Carriere engages and debates with His Holiness a few times, even though for the most part they believe the same things.
I’d love to sit down with both of these men over a cup of tea and ask them my own set of questions, and I would like to be friends with both of them (even though I’d be intimidated out of my mind). I can’t easily rate this book on “characters” because these are indeed real people, but they were a wisely-selected pair and both so extraordinarily intelligent and interesting. I enjoyed their insight, even if I disagreed at times. One point docked for sheer intimidation.

Best part: Hm. I don’t know if any specifically come to mind, but I really enjoyed the little stories sprinkled throughout that Buddhist masters use to elucidate profound ideas to their students. Sometimes these little tales illuminate so much more than a heavy passage can.

Recommend to: My Christian friends. Even if you’re strong in your faith, I think it’s important to explore and understand other religions.

Reminded me of: Meh. I’m gonna say this is n/a.

How I would murder the main character: I’d really rather not kill him, so maybe I’d just force Carriere to write the script for a Will Ferrell movie.

Sexy parts: This book strongly asserts that people need to stop procreating, especially in Third World countries, so in a way it is anti-sex. Or at least pro-birth control. Our Earth has got way too many crazy humans on it, and it's only going to get worse.

To sum it up: A clever and thought-provoking collection of conversations.

Overall: 8

The Echo Maker - Richard Powers

General info: Novel, published in 2006

Storytelling: 6 – I have wanted to read this book for awhile but always seemed to set it aside to pick up more adventurous and sexy books. The content (Midwestern people struggling with identity after a head injury…wah wah) isn’t exactly exciting to me. However, I’m a sucker for books that are National Book Award winners, and I loved Powers’ The Time of Our Singing, so after hearing me whine about how I wanted to read it, my boyfriend finally just bought this book for me. I think he was getting sick of hearing about it.
Anyway, I went into this book really ready to love it. It was a deep, poetic tome, intended to make me think long and hard about how I know who I really am. I was ready for the challenge. Long story short, Mark, a typical young man from middle-of-nowhere America who loves beef and motors, gets in a horrific car crash and sustains an awful head injury. His sister, Karin, who’s desperately tried her whole live to distance herself from their home town in Nebraska, rushes to his aide, only to realize he doesn’t recognize her and insists she’s a cheap look-alike sent to spy on him. Karin melts down and reaches out to a famous neurologist, Gerald Weber (who I imagine is closely modeled after Oliver Sacks) , who travels to Nebraska a number of times to research the case. They’re all trying to piece together the events of Mark’s accident, come to terms with their own issues, and spend a lot of time discussing and admiring the sandhill cranes that settle in Nebraska during their yearly migration.
Now, Powers gets a lot of points for crafting a significant book based on a small cast of characters dealing with one large catastrophic event. This is a unique attempt and I always appreciate that. I also appreciated the smaller cast of side characters who felt like a breath of fresh air at times. However, there isn’t much notable plot, mostly because I think Richard Powers is secretly a poet at heart and veers off course into wordy tangents a lot. These are gorgeous, but they’re not really telling a story so much. I did feel that this book dragged a lot, and I felt that many portions of it did not feel realistic. Powers’ story felt forced and pretentious much of the time, and although it was so intense, I felt that it really lacked passion. I feel like Powers read a few books on the brain, tacked some science together, and then spun out a plot one afternoon while high on himself and a little too caffeinated on tea.
Furthermore, the novel read like a thriller and stayed mysterious throughout, only to end with a completely unsatisfying conclusion. I was frustrated and disappointed with the ending when they finally uncover who wrote the mystery note, and several elements of the book did not seem to mix together well or ever resolve. And although I know that head trauma patients do suddenly heal without explanation, Powers spent roughly a paragraph going over Mark’s sudden recovery. This felt tacked on and forced. I never really got an idea of what he was aiming at by writing this story.

Writing: 8 – Richard Powers is a poetic genius. I can’t argue that at all. There are several passages of this book that I wanted to rip out and paste to my bathroom wall, just to read in the morning and sigh deeply. There are some especially beautiful parts while Mark is struggling to regain consciousness in the soup of his addled brain (you’d have to read it to know what I’m talking about), and throughout the book Powers writes about the sand hill cranes and the nature of all creatures with an astounding beauty. I absolutely love, love how he writes and uses the birds in this book. His best writing is in reference to nature, which I give him a thumbs up for.
Powers also incorporates witty and exceptional quips in parts of the plot that zing with verve. His use of analogy is especially fun, and these moments usually came during somewhat boring moments in the plot. Sometimes these got a little bizarre (which is why I think Powers was caffeinated while writing this…or drunk), but hey, whatever. I’m ok with things being a little quirky.
However, as I mentioned before, Powers goes off on crazy tangents all over the place. He tries to delve into the minds of his three main characters and make them complex and interesting, but it comes off as a cheap attempt to make these three pretty unlikable people more human. This made the writing uncomfortable and strange, and it quickly made me lose the magical feeling I got from the melodious passages just pages before. Ergo, Powers loses a few points.

Characters: 6 – As I just said, I was not a fan of any of the three main characters. Mark came off as an obnoxious and immature caricature of every young uneducated man in Middle America. Karin was a completely louse of a person who spent most of the novel crying, pitying herself, and having absolutely no sense of humor (actually, none of this book had a sense of humor). And Weber comes across as an ok intellectual guy going through a bit of a career crisis. This is all fine, but why should I care? This book is dealing with a deeply emotional and painful time, so I wanted to feel for these characters and grieve and struggle with them, but I kept finding myself unimpressed.
Most likely, Powers intended this book as a poetic character study, but if an author is intending this, he needs to really attempt to connect with his readers. Gee whiz. We need to identify with all or some of the characters in order to naturally connect with the story, and I should have been a knockout case for identifying with Karin (eldest child, struggling to disconnect herself from her Midwestern roots, etc.) But alas, I just found her pretty blah. Ergo, Powers loses a few points.

Best part: Well, to be honest, I mostly just liked all of the gorgeous bird prose/poetry. As far as best part of the storyline, I’d have to say any interaction with Mark’s two goony best friends from high school or Weber’s uber smart wife. They made me smile and brought this book life.

Recommend to: Bohemian and flighty female English majors.

Reminded me of: A little bit of Mark Helprin’s Winter's Tale, which dragged a bit too but redeemed itself with gorgeous passages

How I would murder the main character: Well, not in a car accident…I’d probably get them to overdose on some of Mark’s Ecstasy and then force them to endure a midwinter night on the Nebraska plains.

Sexy parts: Karin comes back into town and starts to shack up with Daniel, the town bleeding-heart hippie who used to be Mark’s best friend. They obviously get it on, which I’m sure Karin cries straight through, because that’s all she ever does. She also starts to somewhat emotionally cheat on him with her toxic high school boyfriend. This should all be intriguingly scandalous, but I just got so bored.

To sum it up: A beautiful poem to nature and identity wrapped up in an unconvincing and confusing plot.

Overall: 7

The Imperfectionists - Tom Rachman

General info: Novel/collection of short stories, published in 2010

Storytelling: 9 – I love the title of this collection. You get exactly what you paid for – a collection/novel based on a crew of perfectly imperfect people. I realize that most every author approaches human flaws on some level, but I’ve never seen imperfection of people crafted in such an interesting and witty way, while moving along the story in a convincing and humorous way. However, I supposed I should back up and explain a bit.
I call this a “novel/collection” because it is a bit of both. The story focuses on the life and times of a collection of ex-pats working for an English-language newspaper in Rome. Loosely woven throughout the book are excerpts describing the life of the millionaire family that starts the paper and ultimately kills it, but the bulk of the novel are the brilliantly wrought short stories. These depict a day or two in the lives of the employees of the paper who all happen to be completely imperfect. We meet the Obituary Writer, the Editor-in-Chief, the Corrections Editor and even the Chief Financial Officer. Each of them are wholly and miserably flawed, but each in a unique and achingly wonderful way. Rachman blended wretchedness and wit together in such a genius way that I felt a bit astounded as I closed this book.
Each story takes the reader on a separate little adventure, such as a journey to Switzerland to gather a pre-emptive obituary, to a lonely hotel room on New Years Eve, or through the internal workings of a man who’s found his much younger girlfriend is cheating on him with a guy from her yoga class. Don’t get me wrong; the content of this book was completely depressing if you take it all at face value, but Rachman impressed me greatly with the variety and creativity of his tales and even more with the near-perfect movement of the plot(s). He provided the perfect amount of detail, employed the ideal pace, and crafted sparking but realistic characters. I sailed through this book with ease and felt captivated through the duration.
I have to dock one point, however, for the way the book ended. Call me biased, but there is a needless animal death toward the very end that left a bad taste in my mouth. Also, the paper shuts down at the end of the book leaving all of the characters to scatter to the wind. Rachman tacks on a small chapter at the end detailing where everyone ends up, which I didn’t like so much. I felt that leaving this bit to the imagination of the reader would have added to the unpredictable and darkly playful nature of the book.

Writing: 10 – Holy crap! Where did this guy come from? I love new writers that bust onto the scene with a gusto and get a thumbs up from the New York Times. (For the record, I live and die by the New York Times Book Review. Once in a blue moon, I’ll disagree with them, but for the most part they are pretty trustworthy. Deeming something a New York Times Bestseller, however, means diddly squat. I do not care that the mass American public likes a book – that usually just makes me skeptical of something)
The prose of this book was delightful in its simple elegance. It’s evident that Rachman has lived the life of an American journalist in Europe, but he doesn’t write like a journalist here, which is what most surprised me. His writing is clever, insightful, and detail-oriented without being cumbersome. There are a few brilliant passages that are almost poetic in their beauty, and then the next page will include some frank descriptions that make you snort you’re laughing so hard. I loved the graceful mobility of this book.
Most of all, I loved Rachman’s wit and his grasp of flawed humanity. For example, why doesn’t anyone else write about the fact that people get lazy and eat a can of beans for a meal, or drink themselves to sleep on a weeknight? Similarly, Rachman approaches how utterly ridiculous insecure women get when any male pays them attention, he examines how power structures can be completely opposite at home and in the office, and he taps into how getting what we want is precisely what we don’t want. I could go into more detail but hey, you have to read the book, and I’m just going to start babbling.

Characters: 9 – The diversity of the characters contained in such a short book (a mere 269 pages) is what truly amazed me. I know I’m gushing about this novel, but I truly found it exceptional in many ways. There were many introduced, but having them all sectioned off neatly into their own little chapters made them easy to keep track of. Rachman cleverly references other members of the paper in other short stories, some of them before we meet them and some of them after, and I believe he did this in a fun “a ha!” way. They are all connected but it’s evident that none of them really know anything about each other. (Then again, isn’t this sadly true of any workplace?)
At first glance, all of these characters appear pathetic, but that would be incorrect; they are simply human. Rachman casts them in a harsh light and oddly enough, I felt myself connecting in some way with each and every person. They ran the gamut, from controlling narcissist to self-loathing mega-introvert, but at the end of each story I felt a little bit attached to all of them, even if they drove me completely crazy. I know this book got a lot of criticism for making the characters too abysmal and unlikeable, but I didn’t see it that way. They were simply honest, and I know a lot of readers don’t want that and are instead looking for an entertaining and morally satisfying break from reality. I think anyone who says they didn’t find a single one of these characters relatable is completely lying to themselves or lives on a cloud.
Again I have to dock one point for this book, simply because I would have liked to see a few more rays of sunshine sprinkled in. I think showing some hope or a positive light would not have subtracted from the authenticity here, considering such a large cast of characters cannot all be having such a bad day during their selected stories. I get that showing imperfection was the point of the novel, and if it isn’t already obvious I loved this book, but Rachman sure did nail you with a lot of depressing realism. I believe that humans are as flawed as they are in this book, but I also believe that they are innately good, which you don’t see much of here. Maybe Rachman’s harsh light was a bit too harsh, but only a tiny bit so.

Best part: Hmm. Tricky. I would have to say my favorite part was the short story about Ornella de Monterecchi, a faithful reader of the paper for years and years. She is one of those lonely old souls with money who goes about intentionally making everyone’s life miserable and terrorizing the maid. Most interestingly, she insists on reading each paper cover to cover, which she can’t complete in a day. After a few decades she is still going chronologically and remains stuck in 1994 even though it’s actually 2007. Additionally, she insists that anyone coming into her house not discuss any present day news. The most terrifying part of this is that I’m sure there are real life people out there in this world who are this nuts.

Recommend to: I probably wouldn’t recommend this book to people who are depressed or going through a hard time. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I’d recommend this to anyone else.

Reminded me of: Zadie Smith

How I would murder the main character: Considering the main character is basically any depressing soul working at the paper, I'd likely push them into a particularly painful part of the newspaper printer machine thing (whatever that's called) and then pour garbanzo beans on them.

Sexy parts: There are affairs and wayward romances all over this novel. Rachman never goes into anything graphic (darn) but he perfectly depicts how strange romance can be sometimes and how we can be compelled toward the worst people. Now that I mull it over, most of the sexy/love-related/marriage-related parts of this book were completely depressing aside from a few vague accounts of happy marriages. Maybe Rachman recently had his heart broken. ..

To sum it up: A captivating and eccentric collection of stories examining human foible and folly.

Overall: 9.5

Moby Dick - Herman Melville

General info: Novel, published in 1851

Storytelling: 6 - I am going to tread lightly with this review, partially because I really didn’t “get” half of this book and partially because if I really start critiquing it, I fear that an angry mob of male literature geeks will come burn down my apartment. (Let’s just face it – 90% of people who adore this book are dudes)
First and foremost, this is a story that wholly unlike anything that’s ever been written. How many other books out there give you an unadulterated glimpse of the whaling industry at the end of the 19th century? Melville had experienced all of this nonsense firsthand, so he was able to provide all sorts of gritty details that kept me up at night. Also, even though it was written by a lowly sailor (who also happened to come from a rather well-to-do family, but let’s ignore that part), this work is overflowing with symbolism, metaphor, Shakespearean devices, words that no one knows, and anthropomorphism. I was surprised the kitchen sink didn’t fall out of the pages. I don’t think anyone can deny that this was a tour de force intended to knock your socks off, and I can see how that’s been the case for many people.
However, because Melville was so insanely complex, he also made his book a little ridiculous, and he lost me as a reader a few dozen times. The beginning started out interestingly enough as the main character (we call him Ishmael) met Queequeg (his native New Zealand harpooning pal who is seen as a cannibal savage) and prepared to board the Pequod, a whaling ship set to sail for three years. There was actually a plot at the beginning and some foreshadowing about the disaster that awaited them. You find out about the obsessive captain, Ahab, who is intent on revenge against the albino sperm whale that tore off his leg and sank his last ship. And you get to know the three males, Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask who come in and out the tale at various times to act as a foil for Ahab.
Then once they get further out on the ocean, it got weirder. Melville goes off the radar and starts going into a ton of scientific detail about types of whales, the uses of spermaceti, different international whaling ventures, how much butter various types of ship carry, blah blah blah. From there on out he more or less abandons Ishmael and Queequeg as characters and the rest of the book focuses 30% on Ahab and his maniacal obsession with finding Moby Dick and about 70% on whale murder and the weird shit that went along with that. The plot came in and odd times and was all over the place, which annoyed me. Melville also liked to go off on strange tangents and wax poetic for a few dozen pages about random things. I’m sure he had some reason for doing so, but I just wasn’t following. However, I’m guessing this lot would have made a lot more sense if I read this a century earlier.
Finally, about halfway through the book I guessed the ending (not the coffin bit; that was clever and spooky) which I partially attribute to hearing about this story my whole life. This should have inspired me to reach the ending and uncover the excitement, but it didn’t really. I ended this book feeling really sorry for Moby Dick and rolling my eyes.
In summation, my socks were only partially blown off, but I still have to rank this story highly because it’s so enigmatic.

Writing: 8 – First of all I have say, Melville’s syntax is some of the most amazing and confusingly brilliant I’ve ever seen. I spent half of this book thinking to myself “Holy hell. Who writes like this?!?!”. This thought was rhetorical, of course, but the answer is no one. No one else writes like this. And now I understand why everyone and their mom was harping on me to read this book.
In many ways, this was a lot like reading a large book of dense poetry dressed up as prose, given the amazingly deliberate choice of words and the lyrical flow of certain passages. Not only were characters and events used as metaphors, I felt like Melville was even hinting at his larger themes on a much smaller scale and was selecting specific words accordingly. I’m fully able to appreciate the scope and grandeur of this book, but I admit that perhaps I’m not intelligent enough to understand it all.
The only reason Melville is getting any points docked is due to his wordy weird tangents. I believe that many of these asides and references (many of them biblical and mythological) would have made much more sense to someone reading this in 1875, but he incorporates far too many for my liking. Even if I had understand all that Melville was hinting at, he breaks far too long from the action to compel me or fully make the same point he’s likely already made fifteen times. The preamble drags and really lengthens what I think could have been a much shorter but equally as genius book.

Characters: 7 – Melville was a little tricky with his characters throughout this book. I want to say I left knowing very little about them, but that wouldn’t be accurate; I left knowing some about them. Instead of laying it all out there for the reader to absorb, there were details scattered here and there for you to pick out of the wordy craziness.
For example, we find out that Ahab is an orphan who has spent his entire life on whaling ships. Starbuck has a wife and a young son that he would like to return to at home (although in his heart he knows he likely won’t). Queequeg proves to be oddly more civilized than his Christian counterparts, although he’s supposedly a savage. All of these little details help to make Melville’s characters a bit more real and a bit more likeable, even if they all remain shrouded in mystery.
Far and away, I found Moby Dick to be the most interesting character. He appears very briefly in the book, but exists as a primary character who exists as the primary focus of the novel. We can never see what he’s thinking or feeling, which I suppose is the point. And, he’s an animal, and I really like animals.
I think the White Whale truly symbolizes something different to every reader, and this is the true beauty of it. And needless to say, I think we can all relate to Ahab on some level, although perhaps not quite as dramatically. Hell, I think we can all somewhat to relate to all of the characters in this book. I, for one, related to Ahab’s obsession, Stubb’s foolishness, Queequeg’s individualism, and Starbuck’s sense of decency. I liked Melville’s characters just fine, but their development and use wasn’t as mind-blowing as I would have liked it to be.

Best part: Ahab’s death. While attempting to kill Moby Dick, he launches a harpoon into the whale. Moby Dick dives to escape and in doing so, the harpoon rope tangles around Ahab’s neck and drags him down into the sea. Symbolism anyone?

Recommend to: Guys in their 30’s who want to read a classic

Reminded me of: This novel is so completely unique. I really can’t think of anything that comes even close.

How I would murder the main character: I’d probably chop of Ishmael’s toes in the blubbering room and then feed him to the ravenous sharks.

Sexy parts: This is the least sexy book in the existence of all books.

To sum it up: An influential, brilliant, and informative classic that occasionally veers off course.

Overall: 7.5