Now that I've gotten used to an existence with little to no television, I'm firmly back on the book-reading circuit. Being on an extended (permanent?) vacation finally affords me the ability to guiltlessly devote an entire day to reading. It's the smart person's pastime, after all, and, despite the lack of physical activity involved, nobody ever accuses the avid reader of being a lazy bum. In all honesty, I haven't had the free time or mental capacity to go through books at this pace since my V.C. Andrews phase in middle school (and that was mainly because of all the incestuous sex plot-lines...what can I say, I was a curious child). I'm really very proud of myself, and I hope you are too.
Here's the latest damage:
1. "High Fidelity" - Nick Hornby
I own the DVD, but I'd never read the original book, which is actually a lot more similar to the movie than most books. My problem is that I love the movie too much, especially the main character of Rob as played by John Cusack (swoon!). The original book character is English, does not live in Chicago, and does not have sex with anyone resembling Lisa Bonet. It was a fun read, but this is one of those rare cases where I prefer the adapted film version to the novel. God Bless America.
2. "Hannibal" - Thomas Harris
The follow-up to "Silence of the Lambs" brings the tale of Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter to an apparent close. I didn't love it, and I must first blame my lack of enthusiasm on Julianne Moore. Not because she's not a good actress, but because she isn't Clarice Starling. Jodie Foster is Clarice Starling. Jodie Foster is who I imagine when I read about what Clarice Starling is up to these days. But Jodie Foster didn't want to do that movie sequel, so they got Julianne Moore to play the role, and I know that, and it messes with my imagination and I find the whole thing exhaustingly distracting. My second issue was the author's decision to have Clarice and Hannibal suddenly get together (yes, sexxxually) at the end. Kind of a cheap move that felt thrown in just for the hell of it (sorry for the spoiler, but you had quite a few years to beat me to it).
3. "Bonfire of the Vanities" - Tom Wolfe
Juicy, fictitious take on racial tension, class distinction, and prejudice in New York City in the decadent 1980s. Kind of a comedy, but more ironic and less ha-ha. My gripe is that every single character in the story is unlikable in some way, either because they have affairs or hate black people or are just generally selfish and rotten, so it's difficult to root for anyone. I also couldn't put the book down, so I guess the author's technique worked. I seem to recall this book also being made into a movie that was universally panned by critics. Probably won't bother renting it.
4. "In Cold Blood" - Truman Capote
Ok! Really enjoyed this one! Truman Capote's retelling of the events that followed an actual set of murders in rural Kansas. Written in 1965, the book has a pleasantly old-fashioned tone and keeps you on the edge of your seat without getting too sensational.
5. "Eleven Minutes" - Paulo Coelho
Ugh. Nobody wants to read the beloved author of "The Alchemist" going into depth about the erotic pleasures of sadomasochism, do they? Maybe it's just me. In his usual existential style, Coelho tackles the sex vs. love theme, and the lengths that people will go to achieve one or the other or both. It's not a crappy book, I just found it a little too smutty in a supermarket romance novel sort of way.
6. "A Monk Swimming" - Malachy McCourt
The younger brother of "Angela's Ashes" author Frank McCourt gets a book deal to write his own memoirs, and this is the result. His are not a particularly pleasant chain of events to put into print (poor young Irishman moves from Limerick to New York City, drinks himself to near-death every day, fails as a family man), but hilarity does manage to ensue. McCourt is a very funny storyteller, and if half of what he's shared on paper is actually true, then he's lived quite a life. Being an Irish lassie myself, I tend to sympathize with anyone from the old country who's had a rough time of it and drinks a lot. When I do this, Brendan likes to scoff and remind me that I was born in America and have lived a very pleasant life and don't even like whiskey.
7. "The Corrections" - Jonathan Franzen
It was Brendan's book first and he raved and raved, so I gave it a go. Intricate story of an unraveling midwestern family, their individual idiosyncrasies, and their judgement of one another as each one follows life in a different direction. They story tackles some emotional issues raw enough to make me blush from time to time, but it's the sensitivity that really strikes a chord. I freely admit that I wept like a baby through the last few pages. Gasping, snot running, the works. If you can handle depressing material (and I really mean that), it's a fantastic novel.
I also have a favor to ask of you, fellow bookworms. A few years ago I was vacationing in Mexico and picked up a book someone had left behind at the resort called "The Keepsake" by Kirsty Gunn. It was one of the weirdest, most disturbing books I've ever read. Ever. But it was also terrific. I came home with the intention of buying it online, but have yet to be able to find it on sale anywhere oopsie, it's right here on Amazon! Has anyone read this obscure book, and if so, do you feel like explaining it to me?
Yours, etc.
Sarah
