I tell you what, I have been appreciating the freshly installed heater this weekend. Usually September is pretty nice ’round these parts, but this weekend apparently it decided to be foul. So I holed up in my warm house and tried to ignore the sounds of chainsaws, barking dogs, and screaming children while I read books 265-269.

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice

Yet another reworking of the Sherlock Holmes mythos, this time including a retired Holmes and a capable female apprentice. Sigh. Can’t people come up with anything original these days? And why does the main character seem so very much like a Mary Sue? Oh, maybe because she is one. At least it was a distraction from the stilted writing, I suppose.

Apparently this is the first in a series, judging from the list of books in the front, and it does seem like the sort of chicklit-y thing that would appeal to some people. Personally, I vastly prefer reading stories with original characters, rather than reused old characters, or at least innovative reworkings of famous characters from fiction and myth (American Gods, anyone?).

Also, an addition to the scent-files: this book reeked of menthols and bad perfume.

Demographics:

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, by Laurie King. Published 1994, 405 pages. Fiction.

Odd Thomas

Now this book, I liked. It had a really neat premise, and I loved the main character. I kind of want to read more stories with him, so I’m pleased to see that there are two additional books published, and three more planned. I think that the premise is great, and Koontz has a very interesting way with language which made the book quite delicious.

It’s billed as a thriller, but I’m not quite sure that’s accurate. I suppose it does cover supernatural things, and there is suspense, but boxing it in as a thriller seems a bit unnecessary, since there was so much more going on. The old “I see dead people” premise is hardly new, but it was taken in a new direction here, and I liked the direction it took, the larger-than-life characters, and the whole feel of the book.

How can you not love a book which features the ghost of Elvis?

Demographics:

Odd Thomas, by Dean Koontz. Published 2003, 399 pages. Fiction.

Thirteen Reasons Why

This book has a very intriguing premise, and I think it’s a pretty awesome premise, especially for a first novel. It’s told from the point of view of a boy who gets a mysterious box of audiotapes, which turn out to be recordings made by a girl who committed suicide. Each tape provides a little bit more of her life story, and more pieces for the puzzle, and each tape is also about a person who was involved in her life and death. Including, of course, our main character, because the tapes are being passed along a list; each person on the tapes is forced to listen to them.

There’s the high school guidance counselor who didn’t intervene, the drunk cheerleader who caused an accident, the popular girl who started nasty rumours about her reputation. The tapes also come with a map, which documents various points which can be found in the history of the tapes, and our main character wanders the streets of his town from location to location, listening to the tapes and wondering why he didn’t do more.

Which, in a way, is a fundamental goal of the book; it’s definitely teen fiction, and I think that many teens who read it will find a lot in common with the story and the characters. Many of us have been that person about whom hateful rumours are told, and some of us may have inhabited other characters in the story as well. The tapes are a guilt-trip for the characters, and the book is a guilt-trip for the reader.

But, it was also a bit melodramatic, and, forgive me, but as I read it, I couldn’t help but think “good lord, this girl is a weenie, she has fits over a few social slights,” until more of the story unfolded, and I started to feel a bit more sympathy for her. Let me tell you, I’ve dealt with way worse things than this girl has. I’ve been to the dark place, and I came back from it. So I sensed a feeling of superiority growing in me as I read the book, and that made wonder about the differences between people; why some people come back from the dark place, and why other people let themselves sink into it. And why, as a reader, I felt the need to judge the characters and their actions, why, even now, I felt the need to feel superior to the deceased narrator on the tapes.

Who am I to say where the limit of someone else’s dark place is?

Demographics:

Thirteen Reasons Why, by Jay Asher. Publised 2007, 288 pages. Fiction.

The Prince of Tides

Once again, I am forced to use the words of Tristan to describe my response to this book: “…something is going to happen, SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN, type writing. I feel like it is a stupid shitty way to build false excitement.”

Seriously.

I know that some people regard this book very highly, but I really was not that impressed by it. The whole book is a buildup to the end, and the end was kind of a let-down after all of the allusions scattered across the book. Now, granted, that’s how the structure of the book works, so I think that what I’ve learned is that I just don’t like this style of storytelling. I prefer to see a story unfold, rather than to be told “oooh oooh, something is going to happen and it’s going to be SHOCKING.”

Show me, people. Don’t tell me. The Sparrow is my one exception to this rule so far, because every other book I’ve read with this structure has made me want to smash something.

I also just couldn’t identify with any of the characters, and I don’t understand why the narrator forgave his parents in the end, since they were horrible people. What is with this fixation for forgiveness? You know what? Some people can’t be redeemed, and that sucks, but it’s just how the world works. And just because you are related to someone by blood, it doesn’t mean that you owe him/her anything. The only person I really liked was Luke, and he’s the one we got to know least of all.

Demographics:

The Prince of Tides, by Pat Conroy. Published 1986, 567 pages. Fiction.

The Best Democracy Money Can Buy

I always struggle with political polemic, because while it can be very interesting, it’s also dangerous to lend too much credence to it. Palast does a good job of researching material thoroughly, but he doesn’t always present facts in a balanced way, and he can be a bit sensationalist.

Books like this are one of the problems with the Left; people tend to swallow them whole without really thinking about it, and then they regurgitate the information printed inside without taking the time to evaluate their sources and seek out corroborating evidence. I resisted reading this book for awhile because, in Mendo, books like this are widely consumed, so I figured I would get the gist of the content just by listening in on enough Mendo-liberal conversations.

I decided to take the plunge because I do think that Palast can be useful sometimes, and it’s good to know material if you want to attack it later. The fact is that I agree with most of what Palast has to say, and I admire his cojones. He definitely goes the extra mile to get material, and backs his claims up with substantiation, like copies of secret documents.

I also like his very casual language, which others might dismiss as flippant. This book reads more like a conversation with a frustrated journalist than a lecture, and I appreciate that. Should you read it? Sure, if you’re a critical thinker and you’re going to use it as a starting point, not your only source.

Demographics:

The Best Democracy Money Can Buy, by Greg Palast. Published 2003, 370 pages. Politics.