I started to read two books simultaneously: JR by William Gaddis and “A Journal of the Plague Year” by Daniel Defoe. I must confess reading JR will require time and special tecnique, because it’s nearly unreadable (I didn’t say bad, please don’t misunderstand me). I completely ignored the 25 pages intro of JR and all the advices for using a reader’s guide to read it. Hell, I was told to use a reader’s guide to read Pynchon and after I’ve read 3/4 of all Pynchon wrote I thought that “author’s guide” thing to be a real over the top exaggeration. Finding Pynchon readable, I thought “oh well, let Gaddis come.” – I was wrong. I’m still fiddling with this one.
I started with Defoe’s book which is a great account of the plague years in the middle ages. A bliss of shocking reality into the stream of zombie novels I have been reading. So far from zombieness the middle ages were not.
After the recent painful and disappointing waste of time on the worst and most boring zombie novel ever written, I needed something light, to humor me. “The Death Clock”is a 33pg short story much like episodes of a many short lived spooky TV series from “Chiller TV” and “Space” channels: “Fear Itself”, “The Outer Limits”, “Night Visions”, “Alfed Hitchcock Presents”, “The Twilight Zone”.
I seriously advise the author to try and sell this to a media other then the book. I’d love to see it on TV.
OK, so Colson Whitehead is technically good at writing a book. Hs english is perfect, he uses fancy thesaurus words. BUT: Nothing happens in this book. This is a no-story. It’s 200 plus pages of endless empty useless stream of consciousness, with right-out-of-the-thesaurus nouns exaggeratedly embelished with half a dozen adjectives. The book consists of endless reminiscing episodes that could as well have been read randomly or backwards: it wouldn’t make any difference to the story. It’s like looking at a photo album: it doesn’t matter which photo you see first, it’s all still just fragments of the same event. “Zone One” is not horror, not spooky, it does not caused me any feeling but that of dropping the book to never see it again. Stay away from this one. I don’t understand how this book was even published. I only gave it one star because i couldn’t rate it 0 stars.
The second book of Stieg Larsson‘s Millennium trilogy is so much better than the first one! It’s faster paced, with many action sequences, and secondary characters play an active role in the story instead of being only an endless list of names with little if no participation at all. (In “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” the key to resolving the story involves motstly 3 constantly active characters: Blomkvist, Salander and Vanger and his lawyer. Bjurman is important as an articulation factor for the second book, but his importance in the development and conclusion of the first book is nearly zero; and Martin Vanger only reveals himself near the end of the book.)
I have seen the “The Girl Who Played with Fire” film beforehand, and I tried my best to ignore the fact that I already knew how the story would develop and how it would end. I can tell that if I hadn’t seen the film I’d have loved the book as well. Every character’s storyline slowly merges perfectlly to the end and, unlike “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo”, this book ends up in a major cliffhanger and leaves many other minor stories unresolved.
Although the book is exceptionally well written and better than the first one, I think it could be some 200 pages shorter. All the pages about Salander’s musings while travelling the world, her getting silicone prosthesis and saving a woman from her abusive husband while have a romance with a teenager in Grenada seem to me like one of those filler episodes in a TV show with high ratings. I understand that’s partly Larsson’s way to show us how Lisbeth is getting more adult, mature. But that could perfectly have been achieved in no more than 10 pages. Also, there are way too many descriptive fight scenes. It’s descriptive kicks and punches that last 3 to 4 pages. Extremely boring and of no difference to the story. Even though I aprecciate the extra action in this book, it’s really not that kind of action.
Edited to add this: But how could I forget about it! If you thought there was too much product placement on book one, wait until you read this one. There is an obnoxious ammount of mentions of specific brands, all the time. It’s never like “she called Blomkvist”, It’s “she called Blomkvist with her Nokia phone while sitting on her IKEA couch. She left to see him in her burgundy Volvo instead of her Kawasaki” etc etc etc. I don’t know about other people, but I get enough of ads on TV and Internet. I’d like books to be ad free.
Finally, after watching the three original Swedish films, I’m getting better acquainted with Lisbeth Salander again by reading the Millenium trilogy. I’m currently in the middle of the second book, The Girl Who Played With Fire. I rated The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo 4 out of 5 stars on Goodreads. It could be a few pages shorter and give us less detail about the Vanger family, since many facts were not relevant – neither to characterize the people nor to the crime mistery. Also, I’m no puritan, but at some point during the book it’s already clear enough to the reader that Blomkvist is a ladies man, so there’s no need to waste pages describing his love affairs. But overall the most negative aspect of this book (and the trilogy, so far) is the endless ammount of product placement. At one point it got so annoying that I almost dropped the book. “She took her PowerBook/ his brand new IKEA couch brand x, chairs brand y, cars brand z, etc” – that is REALLY annoying, and I’m no writer, but as an advice to any aspiring writer I’d say don’t do product placement in your book. It may even be a bestseller, but it will piss the hell out of your readers. Despite all that it’s an awesome book, highly recommended.
I read this book because I watched a film based in it, “Stalker” (1979). As usual, the book is much better than the film, and in this particular case, the book has almost nothing to do with the film. Roadside Picnic is not regular easy fiction, with beginning, middle, end, and all the sci-fi tidbits already chewed up and spit there on the paper for the reader’s digestion pleasure. When you start reading it, it feels like you’re in the middle of a book and the first pages are missing, because you can’t quite understand: all these things that the characters are talking about, where do these come from? What are this things? What happened? These questions are slowly elucidated through the characters dialogues. There are only a few occasions in Roadside Picnic where things are actually openly explained to the reader.
Half way into the book I was starting to ask myself “why on earth is this called Roadside Picnic”? Am I missing some big obvious metaphor? Then the answer to my question came in the book’s greatest philosophical passage. And after that the reading only gets more interesting… until we get to the end, that leaves you with the same feeling you had when you started the book: there must be some pages missing. Which is not a bad at all.
I’m finishing Rebecca Skloot’s account of the story behind the HeLa cells. I can’t tell how much of my fascination with this book comes from the uncanniness of the story itself and how much comes from Skloot’s incredible mastery of the art of reporting a real story. It’s a non-fiction work but it looks like a work of fiction when it gives each of its characters/facts a beginning, middle and end. It was so well written! Every phrase passed in front of my eyes like a scene from a film, a very sad film, where black people were relegated to medical apartheid and scientists and science played the great villain. When you work with people (and I know about that because I’m a doctor) sometimes it can be hard to balance professionalism and emotional detachment from the person who’s your work subject. It’s a thin line. I guess anyone who read the book can tell Rebecca Skloot got deeply involved with her research got emotionally involved with the Lacks family, and she pretty much wrote herself as a “character” into the book, in a very clever – and very professional – way. Congratulations to the author, it’s probably the best non-fiction book I have ever read.
Edited: and I should not forget to mention the book’s awesome approach to the ethics of tissue research at the end of the book.
One is “The Disappearing Spoon: And Other True Tales of Madness, Love, and the History of the World from the Periodic Table of the Elements” by Sam Kean. It speaks about the development of the periodic table by telling stories the involve the use of the each element. I’m only in the beginning of the book, thus I wasn’t very surprised perhaps because the explanations were aimed (mostly) at lay people (since I studied chemistry for one and a half year…). But I was perplexed by the tale of the exploration of Niobium and Tantalum in Congo and its repercussion. Niobium and tantalum are fundamental parts of cell phone batteries (or mostly other electronics batteries) , and are part of the root of conflict in this country – yes, the same country of the “blood diamonds”. It seems it’s not only the diamonds that are bloody after all. At this height is there anything that comes out of Congo that is not blood tainted?
I’m in the middle, I’m loving it and there’s so much to say about it that my comment alone would make another book! I’ll write a longer review about it after I’m finished, now all I can say is: highly recommended!
Also, I published this same review on Goodreads. I Rated it 2 stars (It was OK)
He does a good job in connecting the different storylines. Alobar and Kudra are very catchy, charismatic characters, and along with Pan they form a lovely trio and keep the book going.
Apart from that there is little I liked. The characters that lead the other storylines are either uninteresting or detestable to the point of making me want to stop reading. Again, except for Kudra, Alobar and Pan, the rest of the characters have such poor chemistry that I don’t think they should ever stand together in the same room.
Wiggs Dannyboy’s endless pseudo-philosophical monologue about mystical-religious topics, embelished with random scientific data in order to make it look like a serious discussion is really painful to go through and unnecessary. His practical role was to connect Alobar’s with the other three stories in the book. That could have been done without all the gibberish. He’s my less favorite character. I had a big problem with the character V’lu Jackson and the whole “write like you talk” thing – alternately with Pan’s archaic English: it renders the text unreadable at times and adds nothing to the story or characters. That, in addition to all the godawful metaphors, left the impression that the writer only did it to show off, you know, how smart he supposedly is.
Also, he spends the book sort of loathing christianism, giving room to multiple kinds of spiritualism, but in the end we learn that Kudra visited an astral plan which is pretty much the christian cliche of heaven and hell. How lame. And just when Alobar and Kudra meet again and suddenly there’s the chance for more interesting discussions, the book ends.
This is not a random gullible green author raising the flag of veganism. It is a rather detailed research on how does the American meat industry works. Every claim and factual citation is properly referenced. Even when the reference is only...