Author: Anne Lamott
Genre: nonfiction, how-to, inspirational
Publication info: Anchor Books, 1994
Pages: 237
There are a lot of books on writing out there, and I know as well as anyone that you can get so wrapped up in reading such books that you never actually write. But some books on the craft of writing are just classics, and I think this is one of them. I judged that by how often other writers refer to it (for example, Gail Carson Levine highly recommended it when I went to her reading). One day my sister and I were Christmas shopping, and I pulled this book off the shelf and said I was interested in it. I didn't think much of it, but she did, apparently, because guess what I got for Christmas! My thanks go to her.
As it turns out, this book is fantastic.
Someone once said that books on writing can be divided into categories: how-to and inspirational. Notice that I used both terms to describe this book. I did so because, well, it fits into both categories. With the subtitle Some Instructions on Writing and Life, this book has plenty of advice for the learning writer—and it's terrific advice at that—but it doesn't have the rigid structure that how-to books tend to have. In the introduction, Anne Lamott says that the book is a collection of thoughts she gives to her writing classes. And it does feel as though she's just sitting down and having a conversation with you. Her style is highly enjoyable from beginning to end.
And yes, the book is hilarious. She uses some great images to illustrate her points (my favorite dealt with drop-kicking a puppy across the fence every time it piddles on the carpet). I have to warn you, though: as gentle-mannered as she is, Lamott uses some surprisingly coarse language sometimes. You can tell by just looking at the chapter titles. Normally I don't tolerate language like that, but the book was just so dang good that I couldn't help but keep reading. And I think I will be a better writer for having read it.
"The book eater." Book reviews from someone who is hopelessly addicted to reading.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip
Author: George Saunders
Genre: fiction, young reader (?)
Publication info: Villard Books, 2000
Pages: 82
Sounds like a Dr. Seuss title, doesn't it? I wish it were. Not to say this is an awful book—it's actually fairly interesting and creative, but it doesn't quite have the magic of Dr. Seuss.
This is another book I just sort of came across. At 82 pages and with lots of illustrations (by the popular Lane Smith), it didn't take very long to read. Good thing, too. I'm not as angry as I sound, but the book just didn't turn out to be what I was hoping for.
It's the story of a seaside village named Frip, which consists of three families. The people of the village make their living by selling goat's milk. Once in a while, however, these little burr-like creatures called Gappers come out of the sea and latch onto the goats, frightening them and rendering them unable to provide any milk. It's the children's job to remove the Gappers from the goats. One of these children is a girl named Capable, and one day, the Gappers decide to focus exclusively on her goats. When they do so, she inexplicably loses the respect and sympathy of everyone else in the village.
This little book has its moments. Saunders's style is entertaining once in a while. And the illustrations are, of course, top notch. But the book's quality is overshadowed by an irritating didacticism. The whole thing feels allegorical (for example, the main character's name), although I couldn't tell you what each element represents, and it all seems geared toward teaching a moral to the reader. All of this is fine to some degree, but when you pick up a book expecting to be entertained, but instead the entertainment takes the backseat to teaching a lesson, it's hard not to be annoyed. If I thought the book was funnier, maybe I wouldn't be so bothered.
One more annoyance: Judging by the style of publication, I assume this to be a children's book. But the reason I put a question mark in the heading is I found some of the language a little shocking. I've read plenty of profanity in literature before, and sometimes I'm able to tolerate it or at least ignore it, but in a book of this nature I find it entirely inappropriate. Parents, take note.
Genre: fiction, young reader (?)
Publication info: Villard Books, 2000
Pages: 82
Sounds like a Dr. Seuss title, doesn't it? I wish it were. Not to say this is an awful book—it's actually fairly interesting and creative, but it doesn't quite have the magic of Dr. Seuss.
This is another book I just sort of came across. At 82 pages and with lots of illustrations (by the popular Lane Smith), it didn't take very long to read. Good thing, too. I'm not as angry as I sound, but the book just didn't turn out to be what I was hoping for.
It's the story of a seaside village named Frip, which consists of three families. The people of the village make their living by selling goat's milk. Once in a while, however, these little burr-like creatures called Gappers come out of the sea and latch onto the goats, frightening them and rendering them unable to provide any milk. It's the children's job to remove the Gappers from the goats. One of these children is a girl named Capable, and one day, the Gappers decide to focus exclusively on her goats. When they do so, she inexplicably loses the respect and sympathy of everyone else in the village.
This little book has its moments. Saunders's style is entertaining once in a while. And the illustrations are, of course, top notch. But the book's quality is overshadowed by an irritating didacticism. The whole thing feels allegorical (for example, the main character's name), although I couldn't tell you what each element represents, and it all seems geared toward teaching a moral to the reader. All of this is fine to some degree, but when you pick up a book expecting to be entertained, but instead the entertainment takes the backseat to teaching a lesson, it's hard not to be annoyed. If I thought the book was funnier, maybe I wouldn't be so bothered.
One more annoyance: Judging by the style of publication, I assume this to be a children's book. But the reason I put a question mark in the heading is I found some of the language a little shocking. I've read plenty of profanity in literature before, and sometimes I'm able to tolerate it or at least ignore it, but in a book of this nature I find it entirely inappropriate. Parents, take note.
Gathering Blue
Author: Lois Lowry
Genre: fiction, young adult
Publication info: Houghton Mifflin, 2000
Pages: 215
Remember The Giver, that Newberry-winner from the 90s? That book that everyone told you to read while you were growing up but you never got around to it until years later? Okay, maybe that's not how it happened for you, but the book somehow got past me until just recently. It's a young-adult book, but it wasn't until my young adulthood that I got around to reading it. (Makes you wonder why they use that label.)
Anyway, Gathering Blue is the sort-of sequel to that captivating book. I say "sort of" because it never refers specifically to anything or anyone in The Giver; only the mood is similar. Like The Giver, it depicts a society very different from our own (or is it?), but while the first book is a kind of dystopian story, this one is more of a post-apocalyptic tale. I hope Lowry doesn't mind that I pigeonhole her novels this way.
Kira, the protagonist of the book, has just bid farewell to her mother, who died of a mysterious illness. Now an orphan, and with a crippled leg that makes her essentially useless in her primitive society, Kira is in danger of being cast out and left for dead. But when she is put on trial before the Council of Guardians, she learns that they have other plans for her. Plans that make use of her remarkable talent for working with thread. Life seems secure from her now, but, as she soon learns, things aren't as good as they seem.
That's the basic idea, anyway. It's a pretty interesting book. Lowry has set up an intriguing, far-from-perfect society with a strange set of mannerisms. Children are routinely called "tykes," husbands "hubbies." And the only indication of a person's age is how many syllables there are in his or her name. Overall, it's perhaps not as interesting as the society in The Giver, but it's still pretty creative.
The ending, I have to say, leaves something to be desired. Many things are solved, many secrets revealed, but still the ending is somehow not completely satisfying. I suppose one reason for this is that at this point Lowry knew she would be writing a third book to tie the other two together. But the book should also be able to stand on its own. For the most part it does, I guess, but some things still leave me wondering. Is it just a trick to get me to read the third book?
The thing is that I probably will.
Genre: fiction, young adult
Publication info: Houghton Mifflin, 2000
Pages: 215
Remember The Giver, that Newberry-winner from the 90s? That book that everyone told you to read while you were growing up but you never got around to it until years later? Okay, maybe that's not how it happened for you, but the book somehow got past me until just recently. It's a young-adult book, but it wasn't until my young adulthood that I got around to reading it. (Makes you wonder why they use that label.)
Anyway, Gathering Blue is the sort-of sequel to that captivating book. I say "sort of" because it never refers specifically to anything or anyone in The Giver; only the mood is similar. Like The Giver, it depicts a society very different from our own (or is it?), but while the first book is a kind of dystopian story, this one is more of a post-apocalyptic tale. I hope Lowry doesn't mind that I pigeonhole her novels this way.
Kira, the protagonist of the book, has just bid farewell to her mother, who died of a mysterious illness. Now an orphan, and with a crippled leg that makes her essentially useless in her primitive society, Kira is in danger of being cast out and left for dead. But when she is put on trial before the Council of Guardians, she learns that they have other plans for her. Plans that make use of her remarkable talent for working with thread. Life seems secure from her now, but, as she soon learns, things aren't as good as they seem.
That's the basic idea, anyway. It's a pretty interesting book. Lowry has set up an intriguing, far-from-perfect society with a strange set of mannerisms. Children are routinely called "tykes," husbands "hubbies." And the only indication of a person's age is how many syllables there are in his or her name. Overall, it's perhaps not as interesting as the society in The Giver, but it's still pretty creative.
The ending, I have to say, leaves something to be desired. Many things are solved, many secrets revealed, but still the ending is somehow not completely satisfying. I suppose one reason for this is that at this point Lowry knew she would be writing a third book to tie the other two together. But the book should also be able to stand on its own. For the most part it does, I guess, but some things still leave me wondering. Is it just a trick to get me to read the third book?
The thing is that I probably will.
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Narnian
The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis
Author: Alan Jacobs
Genre: nonfiction, biography
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2006 (hardcover in 2005)
Pages: 342 (including notes and index)
C. S. Lewis has long been one of my literary heroes. As a child I enjoyed the Narnia series, a little later I read Out of the Silent Planet, and more recently I devoured some of his famous Christian writings such as The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, and The Great Divorce. Throughout all this reading, I've been fascinated by Lewis's deep thinking and vivid imagination.
But I didn't know very much about him as a person—his life. Enter The Narnian. I picked this book up from a bargain book sale (it ranks among the best five bucks I've ever spent). Finally, around Christmas I got around to reading it.
I have never found a biography so gripping.
True, I haven't read many biographies, but this one had me hooked as I had no idea a biography could. I suppose this is partly due to my already keen fascination with Lewis, but I also must give credit to Alan Jacobs for doing such a stunning job. He admits in the preface that the book is "almost a biography," leaving out "certain details that a responsible biographer would be obliged to include" (what modesty!). Instead, the purpose of this book is to record "the life a mind, the story of an imagination."
It turns out that Lewis's mind and imagination make quite a story. Before reading the book, I knew the guy was smart, but I didn't know that he was actually brilliant until reading it. I can't begin to recount some of the ideas I learned about in this book—they are too deep, and Lewis and Jacobs both put them much better than I could—but I will say that this book made me think. It made me think deeply, about a lot of things. It inspired me. It turned me to introspection. It changed me.
I can't promise that this book will have the same effect on everyone who reads it. But if you have an interest in the works of C. S. Lewis, particularly in the Narnia series, than you would do well to read this book. As the back cover invites, "enter the world of a creative genius."
Author: Alan Jacobs
Genre: nonfiction, biography
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2006 (hardcover in 2005)
Pages: 342 (including notes and index)
C. S. Lewis has long been one of my literary heroes. As a child I enjoyed the Narnia series, a little later I read Out of the Silent Planet, and more recently I devoured some of his famous Christian writings such as The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, and The Great Divorce. Throughout all this reading, I've been fascinated by Lewis's deep thinking and vivid imagination.
But I didn't know very much about him as a person—his life. Enter The Narnian. I picked this book up from a bargain book sale (it ranks among the best five bucks I've ever spent). Finally, around Christmas I got around to reading it.
I have never found a biography so gripping.
True, I haven't read many biographies, but this one had me hooked as I had no idea a biography could. I suppose this is partly due to my already keen fascination with Lewis, but I also must give credit to Alan Jacobs for doing such a stunning job. He admits in the preface that the book is "almost a biography," leaving out "certain details that a responsible biographer would be obliged to include" (what modesty!). Instead, the purpose of this book is to record "the life a mind, the story of an imagination."
It turns out that Lewis's mind and imagination make quite a story. Before reading the book, I knew the guy was smart, but I didn't know that he was actually brilliant until reading it. I can't begin to recount some of the ideas I learned about in this book—they are too deep, and Lewis and Jacobs both put them much better than I could—but I will say that this book made me think. It made me think deeply, about a lot of things. It inspired me. It turned me to introspection. It changed me.
I can't promise that this book will have the same effect on everyone who reads it. But if you have an interest in the works of C. S. Lewis, particularly in the Narnia series, than you would do well to read this book. As the back cover invites, "enter the world of a creative genius."
Friday, December 26, 2008
A Hat Full of Sky
Author: Terry Pratchett
Genre: fiction, fantasy
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2004
Pages: 278
Eat your heart out, J. K. Rowling. This is fantasy I can really enjoy. I'm not saying this book is perfect—there are a few aspects I really don't like—but, unlike my experience with the Harry Potter books, I was not utterly relieved when it was over. Terry Pratchett is a talented and enjoyable writer, plain and simple.
I read this book on recommendation from my mom, whose opinion I usually trust. The novel is actually the second in a series, sequel to The Wee Free Men, which I'd never read nor heard of before this. That may be part of the reason behind what I didn't like about the book. Pratchett makes many jumps in logic and imagination and seems to expect the reader to fill in the gaps. I was unable to do so a lot of the time, and I think the reason is that I haven't read the first book. I hope that's the reason.
A Hat Full of Sky continues the story of a young witch named Tiffany Aching, who is going to be an apprentice to a witch named Miss Level. (Forget all you've learned about witches from Harry Potter.) Tiffany has already shown a lot of promise as a witch—so much, in fact, that she has caught the attention of a formless, dangerous being called a hiver. And when the hiver strikes, there is little Tiffany can do to save herself.
To her aid come the Nac Mac Feegle, or the Wee Free Men who appear to be the subject of the previous book. They are the best part of the story. Six-inch-tall, blue-skinned fairies who love to drink and fight, who speak in thick Scottish accents and have names like Daft Wullie and Awf'ly Wee Billy Bigchin—you can't get much better than that. Although their part in the book is big, I wish it could have been bigger. They don't figure in so much at the end, but their hijinks in the rest of the story had me laughing out loud quite often.
The only other thing I didn't like about the novel is that at times, especially at the end, it tries too hard to be deeply philosophical. The thoughts about life and death and fear and all that are interesting, but I'm more interested in the story itself. But the philosophy doesn't take up too much of the story, so I don't mind it all that much.
After reading this, I'm excited to read The Wee Free Men one of these days. Maybe I'm just bitter with Rowling, but given a choice between the two of them, I'd go with Pratchett any day.
Genre: fiction, fantasy
Publication info: HarperCollins, 2004
Pages: 278
Eat your heart out, J. K. Rowling. This is fantasy I can really enjoy. I'm not saying this book is perfect—there are a few aspects I really don't like—but, unlike my experience with the Harry Potter books, I was not utterly relieved when it was over. Terry Pratchett is a talented and enjoyable writer, plain and simple.
I read this book on recommendation from my mom, whose opinion I usually trust. The novel is actually the second in a series, sequel to The Wee Free Men, which I'd never read nor heard of before this. That may be part of the reason behind what I didn't like about the book. Pratchett makes many jumps in logic and imagination and seems to expect the reader to fill in the gaps. I was unable to do so a lot of the time, and I think the reason is that I haven't read the first book. I hope that's the reason.
A Hat Full of Sky continues the story of a young witch named Tiffany Aching, who is going to be an apprentice to a witch named Miss Level. (Forget all you've learned about witches from Harry Potter.) Tiffany has already shown a lot of promise as a witch—so much, in fact, that she has caught the attention of a formless, dangerous being called a hiver. And when the hiver strikes, there is little Tiffany can do to save herself.
To her aid come the Nac Mac Feegle, or the Wee Free Men who appear to be the subject of the previous book. They are the best part of the story. Six-inch-tall, blue-skinned fairies who love to drink and fight, who speak in thick Scottish accents and have names like Daft Wullie and Awf'ly Wee Billy Bigchin—you can't get much better than that. Although their part in the book is big, I wish it could have been bigger. They don't figure in so much at the end, but their hijinks in the rest of the story had me laughing out loud quite often.
The only other thing I didn't like about the novel is that at times, especially at the end, it tries too hard to be deeply philosophical. The thoughts about life and death and fear and all that are interesting, but I'm more interested in the story itself. But the philosophy doesn't take up too much of the story, so I don't mind it all that much.
After reading this, I'm excited to read The Wee Free Men one of these days. Maybe I'm just bitter with Rowling, but given a choice between the two of them, I'd go with Pratchett any day.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Crime and Punishment
Author: Fyodor Dostoevsky
Translators: Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky
Genre: fiction
Publication info: Everyman's Libary, 1993 (originally published in1866)
Pages: 564 (including notes)
It's more than a little daunting to write a review of a classic like this. I'm just happy that I've finally read it. I actually started it last year during the summer, but then school started, and I was forced to stop so I could keep up with an extraordinary amount of reading for school. One year and one change of major later, I was able to come back to this book and read it beginning to end.
And wow.
Now I can see why it's so famous. I find it interesting that it seems to break a lot of the "rules" modern fiction writers talk about. For example, I've heard that it's bad form to use more than one or two exclamation points in a story, but this novel has several on almost every page. It also uses ellipses (. . .) frequently. All this takes some getting used to, but if I've learned one thing about writing, it's that there are no absolute rules. All that matters is what works for the particular story. And these techniques work for this one.
Crime and Punishment is about, well, crime and punishment. It's the story of Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, who, for reasons that are hard to figure out, plans and carries out a rather atrocious murder. This occurs very close to the beginning, so I don't feel bad about revealing it to you. The book concerns the punishment more than the crime. Raskolnikov's crime begins a tangle of plots involving many characters (the large amount of characters is one aspect that makes this book a little difficult). These plots expose many cruelties of life. Innocent people suffer, ill-meaning people succeed, and people in general struggle to get through life.
As with The Castle, I'm not going to attempt any deep, interpretive criticism here. Countless books have been done by people much smarter than I for the same purpose. I will say this, though: this book had a profound impact on me. There are many things I don't understand in it, but reading this book was a deep experience for me.
There are parts that seemed to make me stop breathing. Other parts made me want to cheer out loud. Still others made me want to cry. According to the introduction to the edition I read, Dostoevsky received a lot of criticism for being too melodramatic. I can see where the critics are coming from, but I really don't mind the melodrama. I think it works for the story.
This treasure of a novel is not easy to read. It did take me two tries to finish it. But the experience it gives you is definitely worth the trouble.
Translators: Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky
Genre: fiction
Publication info: Everyman's Libary, 1993 (originally published in1866)
Pages: 564 (including notes)
It's more than a little daunting to write a review of a classic like this. I'm just happy that I've finally read it. I actually started it last year during the summer, but then school started, and I was forced to stop so I could keep up with an extraordinary amount of reading for school. One year and one change of major later, I was able to come back to this book and read it beginning to end.
And wow.
Now I can see why it's so famous. I find it interesting that it seems to break a lot of the "rules" modern fiction writers talk about. For example, I've heard that it's bad form to use more than one or two exclamation points in a story, but this novel has several on almost every page. It also uses ellipses (. . .) frequently. All this takes some getting used to, but if I've learned one thing about writing, it's that there are no absolute rules. All that matters is what works for the particular story. And these techniques work for this one.
Crime and Punishment is about, well, crime and punishment. It's the story of Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, who, for reasons that are hard to figure out, plans and carries out a rather atrocious murder. This occurs very close to the beginning, so I don't feel bad about revealing it to you. The book concerns the punishment more than the crime. Raskolnikov's crime begins a tangle of plots involving many characters (the large amount of characters is one aspect that makes this book a little difficult). These plots expose many cruelties of life. Innocent people suffer, ill-meaning people succeed, and people in general struggle to get through life.
As with The Castle, I'm not going to attempt any deep, interpretive criticism here. Countless books have been done by people much smarter than I for the same purpose. I will say this, though: this book had a profound impact on me. There are many things I don't understand in it, but reading this book was a deep experience for me.
There are parts that seemed to make me stop breathing. Other parts made me want to cheer out loud. Still others made me want to cry. According to the introduction to the edition I read, Dostoevsky received a lot of criticism for being too melodramatic. I can see where the critics are coming from, but I really don't mind the melodrama. I think it works for the story.
This treasure of a novel is not easy to read. It did take me two tries to finish it. But the experience it gives you is definitely worth the trouble.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The Outlaws of Medieval Legend
Author: Maurice Keen
Genre: nonfiction, history
Publication info: Routledge, 2000 (originally published in 1961)
Pages: 235
I suppose this doesn't really count as pleasure reading because I read it for a class assignment. But I enjoyed it enough so that I feel like I ought to say something about it here. This book is fun and educational! There. Now this feels like a commercial.
Maurice Keen, a respected historian at Oxford, wrote this book in 1961, when he was fresh on the academic scene. Nearly forty years later, he came out with this edition, which is the same as the first but with a fair amount of introductory material. In one of the prefaces (I can't remember which), Keen states that much of what he said in 1961 about the historical significance of these outlaw stories was wrong. But because his historical interests have since gone in a different direction, he didn't feel like rewriting the book, so here it is, with all its errors.
So if you're looking to read something with accurate historical insights, this isn't the book for you. What I enjoyed about this book was the stories it told. The book summarizes medieval ballads that tell the tales of several English outlaws, many of whom I'd never heard of: Hereward the Wake, Eustace the Monk, Gamelyn, Fulk Fitzwarin. It also discusses the legends surrounding William Wallace. And, of course, what would a book about outlaws be without a discussion of Robin Hood? A fair amount of the book focuses on him.
The value of this book for me was the interesting stories about these characters, stories that proliferated during the Middle Ages. Many of these stories are strikingly similar. Many involve disguise. Many involve archery. Most have the outlaws living in the forest. Of course, these men who lived outside the law are portrayed as heroes, champions against injustice.
As a fiction writer, I found these stories very inspiring. I may one day take a couple of these stories and make something out of them. I'm sure it's been done before, especially with Robin Hood, but it would still be fun.
The point is that if you'd enjoy reading about some interesting medieval tales, I'd recommend this book.
Genre: nonfiction, history
Publication info: Routledge, 2000 (originally published in 1961)
Pages: 235
I suppose this doesn't really count as pleasure reading because I read it for a class assignment. But I enjoyed it enough so that I feel like I ought to say something about it here. This book is fun and educational! There. Now this feels like a commercial.
Maurice Keen, a respected historian at Oxford, wrote this book in 1961, when he was fresh on the academic scene. Nearly forty years later, he came out with this edition, which is the same as the first but with a fair amount of introductory material. In one of the prefaces (I can't remember which), Keen states that much of what he said in 1961 about the historical significance of these outlaw stories was wrong. But because his historical interests have since gone in a different direction, he didn't feel like rewriting the book, so here it is, with all its errors.
So if you're looking to read something with accurate historical insights, this isn't the book for you. What I enjoyed about this book was the stories it told. The book summarizes medieval ballads that tell the tales of several English outlaws, many of whom I'd never heard of: Hereward the Wake, Eustace the Monk, Gamelyn, Fulk Fitzwarin. It also discusses the legends surrounding William Wallace. And, of course, what would a book about outlaws be without a discussion of Robin Hood? A fair amount of the book focuses on him.
The value of this book for me was the interesting stories about these characters, stories that proliferated during the Middle Ages. Many of these stories are strikingly similar. Many involve disguise. Many involve archery. Most have the outlaws living in the forest. Of course, these men who lived outside the law are portrayed as heroes, champions against injustice.
As a fiction writer, I found these stories very inspiring. I may one day take a couple of these stories and make something out of them. I'm sure it's been done before, especially with Robin Hood, but it would still be fun.
The point is that if you'd enjoy reading about some interesting medieval tales, I'd recommend this book.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)