Posts Tagged 'review'

authorial intrusion in BEATRICE & VIRGIL

note to the reader: if you haven’t already read BEATRICE & VIRGIL, this post won’t make much sense. i’m just saying. B&V is worth the read, though — you should give it a go! and then let me know what you think. in April, when it finally hits the shelves. ok, i’ll shut up now and get on with it.

i should probably state outright that i had a major love-hate conflict with LIFE OF PI. it’s an incredible book, without a doubt, but i wish i had never read the last chapter. it always bugs me when authors pull the rug out from under you — especially when they employ magical realism, only to take it all back. it’s a personal thing; i’ve heard the arguments for the book, and don’t disagree with any of them in particular. i just felt cheated for being drawn in, and i hate feeling cheated. tell me a fable or tell me a true story — don’t tell me one and then explain to me how it was all really the other the whole time.

so when i grabbed a copy of BEATRICE & VIRGIL from Wi5, it was with a bit of forewarned-is-forearmed feeling. this time, i wasn’t going to be cheated!

and i wasn’t. this book will turn your brain inside out and upside down, but it never ever cheats you. however, Martel does something else that irks me just as much: authorial intrusion. the main character mirrors Martel in obvious ways, and the book is all about a successful debut novelist trying to write his next book. autobiographical much?

now, i don’t want to give anything away, but the ending makes it pretty clear that this is unlikely to have actually been about Martel. but there is just enough versimilitude to drive me absolutely batty. it’s like when i read THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING. why, oh why, does Kundera break up the narrative to talk directly to me? to my reading tastes, a good story stands on it’s own, without having the author in the middle of it to back it up. B&V suffered from incessant interruption — i was constantly stopped mid-flow wondering, is that something that actually happened to him? how much of this is based in real life? did he really try and write a flip-book about the Holocaust? and so on and so forth.

which, like i said, drives me batty. it occurs to me that other readers might not mind this, might in fact be perfectly capable of either ignoring it altogether or embracing it fully. it also occurs to me that this might be some huge statement about reality and fiction and authorship. which is great and all. but i was in it for the story, and, for me, that got lost in the shuffle.

like i said. i’m just saying.

THE GIRL WHO FELL FROM THE SKY

if Snowpocalypse 2010 hadn’t hit when it did, i would have met Heidi Durrow at Winter Institute 5 last week. instead, i spent about an hour on the phone and on my computer, trying to figure out how i would eventually get back to Baltimore from CA. of course, at that point i had only started the book — i tried to read a bit of everything before i went to Wi5, and didn’t end up finishing anything.

in any case, i had started and really been sucked into THE GIRL WHO FELL FROM THE SKY — made it about halfway through, which is farther than i got into anything else i read for the conference. a profoundly melancholy book, it drew me in from the start. characters are incredibly important to me and to how i read, and Durrow manages them with finesse, giving you just enough of a taste of each to want to know more, spacing the big reveals out to keep you guessing and reading. tonight, i finished it, and am wishing that i could talk to Durrow — or possibly be transported back in time to last Thursday. either would work just fine…

after i finished, i sat for a while thinking about what i wanted to say. rather than give you a sense of the plot, or a review (which others have done well), i thought i’d tell you what came next — the big question.

THE GIRL WHO FELL FROM THE SKY is, in a major way, about identity. who are we, and how do we know it? the bi-racial main character, Rachel, remembers the first time she “knew” she was black. which got me wondering, when was the first time i knew i was white? i’m not sure i can remember, to tell the truth. but a more pivotal moment for me was the first time i knew i was a “nerd” — one summer, when i was still in elementary school, a “friend” (i think the pseudo-word ‘frenemy’ might have been invented to describe this girl) told me that i read too much.

if someone told me that now, i would probably agree with them. and laugh. but back then, i remember being incredibly upset by this, as if i had been accused of some major wrong-doing. read too much? i don’t think i ever thought about how much i read, or about how much other people read, and what it meant. i was told many similar things over the years, and it became a solid part of my identity — i was the girl who read too much.

there are worse things to be, and worse things to be told, of course. but realizing that THAT moment, i could remember, tells me that that moment had a profound impact on who i was, who i became, who i am now. who would i have become if i had been defined differently, both by those around me and by myself?

there is no real answer, but it does make you think. which is, in the end, what good literature does. so despite this not being a review, it is a resounding recommendation for Durrow’s novel: it will make you think, and wonder.

ode: AN UNFINISHED SCORE

if there was ever the right book for the right time, it is Elise Blackwell’s AN UNFINISHED SCORE, right now, for me.

the best books throw our lives back at us in strange and unexpected ways, hold up a mirror that lets us look deeper and longer and more searchingly. as i contemplate the end of my marriage and the beginning of the divorce process (albeit for reasons different than those faced by Blackwell’s characters) UNFINISHED SCORE’s tale of upheaval, love and loss, the pains of both lies and honesty, resonates like a plucked string.

music has always been important to me, but even more so in the past month. as i come home to an apartment that is now mine, and mine alone, in which i can fill the silence in any way i choose, that choice has taken on unexpected importance. and as i navigate the byways of my many Pandora stations and iTunes playlists, creating and destroying with a fervor i don’t remember ever possessing before, i think about the ways in which music speaks to us — when lyrics matter and when they don’t, how the same melody can be interpreted in so many ways, how beat can make or break a mood.

and here is Elise Blackwell, capturing all of that and more. her characters’ quest to move through life in the company of the best that music can offer, both to themselves as musicians and to their listeners, in all its tragic and beautiful complexity, is transfixing and transformative. i read the book as someone in the midst of change, and am changed by it.

my compliments, and thanks, to the author.

you are not a gadget. or a cephalopod.

having just read YOU ARE NOT A GADGET (by Jaron Lanier, who is apparently some kind of tech bigwig who i formerly had not heard of, January 2010 from Knopf), i feel like this is the kind of book you can’t NOT respond to. Lanier just about begs for response, both internal and out loud (as it were).

as Stephanie points out, “There are too many ideas in this book that I underlined and starred and ?ed and yes!ed to count.” which makes it a really difficult book to review. where do you even start? simultaneously, by the end of it i had kind of lost the big picture. i’m not sure if that’s my fault or Lanier’s, but the close left me with a feeling of “…. and? what is the take-home here?” so that makes it doubly difficult to review, because i was left trying to play connect the dots.

all that aside, i think the book is well worth the read. it’s deceptively short, but there’s plenty of food for thought. and if you’re a bookseller & social media user like me, you get stuck on a couple of things in particular.

1) authorship

Stephanie brings this up too, and makes excellent points, but i wanted to go in a different direction, especially in regards to the recent Rick Moody Twitter experiment. one of the things that bugged me most about the execution of the co-tweeting was the lack of ownership assigned to the tweets. you either had to know from the beginning what was going on, wait for the little “this is what this is!” that appeared at the beginning and end of the tweets each of the three days (which, come on, this is Twitter we’re talking about, who does that?), or ask the co-tweeters — there was no quick, easy way to find out. on the one hand that is probably not a big deal; so you have to do a little work! but when you’re thinking about authorship as a commodity, one that (according to Lanier) is disappearing rapidly because of social media, then the lack of tagging (something, anything!) to identify those tweets as Rick Moody’s in origin is troubling. if you use social media the way i believe most of us do (and the way that Lanier doesn’t seem to acknowledge — see #2), then provenance is typically very clear. when you blur the lines the way Electric Lit did, i think you open the door for the very thing Lanier worries about: the separation of the artist from their work. perhaps during the experiment itself, there was enough context to identify all those tweets as being written by Moody. but what about afterward? they are still on the net — Twitter may not log them, but Google sure as *&#@ does, and many of us back up/archive our timelines in various, sometimes publicly accessible, ways. so post-experiment, what points back to Moody or Electric Lit? precious little.

the reason this bugs me so much is because it was done by a publisher and an author — the two people/entities who have the MOST invested in ownership of creativity. so i am sending out a distress signal/public plea here: please, authors and publishers. PLEASE, think things through. social media experiments are fantastic and wonderful and often huge teaching moments for all of us. but a little mindfulness goes a long way — let’s not give away any more than we have to. i believe very strongly that content deserves to be owned, and that often it deserves to be paid for, and i can only imagine that you do too. if those are our goals, before you try ANY experiments, take a moment and think about whether or not you can meet those goals. if not, maybe the experiment is worth reconsidering.

2) how we really use social media

Lanier doesn’t talk about Twitter much directly, but rather refers off-handedly to tweets and bits and streams, and i think he sort of misses the boat. his argument is that, by trimming our personalities to bite-sized morsels communicated over channels like Twitter, Facebook, etc., we are reducing ourselves in reality, as well as surrendering our individuality and becoming part of the “hive mind.” i’m not going to address anything except for Twitter in this case, because i believe this is where he is most wrong.

if his argument were accurate, then the “follow” function on Twitter is totally useless. if all i’m doing is joining the hive mind, then it doesn’t matter who is talking — all POV are equally valid, because we’re all part of one big neuro-techno-brain thing. or something like that. (i am not making this up, i swear.) but try to imagine using Twitterwithout the follow function. i can tell you right now, i just wouldn’t bother. i would place good money on a bet that most Twitter users check the public timeline VERY infrequently — i honestly can’t remember the last time i did. instead, i look for people who are interesting, who have unique and varied viewpoints, who i think i can have a good conversation with. in other words, i look for AUTHORS with PERSONALITY.

plus, authorship/ownership has its own protocol. the use of the ReTweet or RT standard is not only hugely adopted, but also hugely important — just watch the current uproar over Twitter’s new RT function, which severs the commentor/repeater from the original tweet. by taking away the ability to comment/adjust a tweet when we repeat it, Twitter is encroaching on our ownership of our conversations. and people are not liking it.

en garde, Lanier!

despite my differences as stated, Lanier makes some really excellent and really troubling points about the directions in which online programming, not to mention the way we use it, is going. he also has a kind-of adorable ode to the cephalopod and virtual reality (yes, he manages to link them) at the end which made me a little giddy. i also am now ridiculously curious as to who this guy actually is — he not only name-drops all of Silicon Valley, but then tells stories about that time they all went surfing back in college. puts kind of a new face on people who are generally known more for their icons than their own individual selves. which probably tells you more about me than it does about him, i realize as i type this.

if you have EVER wondered about the future of culture, or art, or technology, or any combination of those three things, then you need to pick this book up (and then highlight it, argue with it, throw it across the room, retrieve it, blog about it, and pass it along to a friend).

p.s. i just realized that Neil Gaiman’s BBC Audio Twitter project falls squarely into the gray area that worries both Lanier and i. in sum, Neil started a story on Twitter and other people were invited to finish it. apparently someone sifted through all the tweets that were properly tagged and assembled a story that has been recorded by a professional narrator. so, who gets authorship (is that a word?) of the story? is each contributor of selected tweets credited? as far as i can tell, the authors are being billed as “Neil Gaiman and the Twitterverse” — which basically falls under the scary “hive mind” notion that Lanier rants about. i haven’t listened to it yet, and to be honest i’m not sure i ever will, because, well, “too many cooks spoil the broth” and all that. even though it’s NG, who i usually adore. so maybe i have to concede that Lanier has a point in the specific, if not the general. the ultimate point here, though, goes back to my plea for publishers to think things through. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THINK IT THROUGH!

meta, FTW! (or: fiction, meta-fiction, and Castle)

let me start by saying that i am a die-hard fan of both Nathan Fillion and the show Castle. i was a fan of Fillion first, which is why i started watching Castle.

so when Hyperion announced last year that they were doing NIKKI HEAT books (for realz!), and then they did a give-away of the first book, HEAT WAVE, on twitter AND I WON (disclosure: i won!!!), i was pretty freaking excited.

and then i read the book. correction: i just finished this morning. it was all i wanted to do on my day-off-morning: sit in my pajamas with my extra-strong cup of yorkshire tea and finish HEAT WAVE, so that i could finally tell you all how it is.

but the trouble i’m having is that there are two things to talk about: the book, and the book’s genesis. let’s start with the book.

HEAT WAVE is a mystery, of the mystery genre. this means that the prose is not literary, but definitely readable. it’s entertaining, fast-paced, good action, requisite tension and/or (no, definitely make that ‘and’) sex, all in all your standard first-in-a-series-that’s-going-to-be-crack-for-the-procedural-fan book.

i feel like i should confess at this point that i really don’t read mysteries, procedural or otherwise. i don’t even really watch them, with the notable exceptions of The Wire, Monk, and Castle (both being the exceptions that prove my personal rule).

so that’s my take on the book. now (and infinitely more interesting, to me anyway) for the genesis of the book!

this is a book that is written by an author who is in point of fact a work of fiction himself. a tv show is created. an actor is selected to play an author on a tv show. in the show, references are made to his fictional works of fiction. then, they publish one of these works of fiction. IN REAL LIFE. the actor-as-author gets a dust jacket photo, a blurb, AN ACKNOWLEDGMENTS PAGE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ON WHICH HE THANKS THE ACTOR. and (yes, it continues) the book features a fictional version of the fictional author, a wise-cracking reporter who is tailing a detective — based on the show’s wise-cracking author who is tailing a detective. oh. my. god. i might just die of the meta-ness of it all. even extra-strong yorkshire tea cannot quite get my brain wrapped around this.

seriously. does that not boggle the mind? before i sat down to write this morning i was trying to verbalize it to my husband, also a Fillion/Castle fan, and we were trying to figure out if it would work without Fillion. as in, can you pick an actor who would suddenly make all this just kind of silly? is it Fillion himself? is it the quality of the show? is it the writers behind the show? also, WHO WROTE THE BOOK?

if you leave all of that aside, i have to confess that i think this experiment in meta has been executed beautifully. the book is fun even as a stand-alone, and will be extra-fun for fans of the show, who will recognize all their favorite show characters reflected in the book characters (META!!!!). congratulationsHyperion, this was a tricky one, and possibly a long-shot. i am now a believer: Meta For The Win!

also, Hyperion, p.s.: if you send Nathan Fillion — ahem! I mean Richard Castle on book tour, i expect a phone call!

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