A fine review of The Book That Eats People from Lee Littlewood. Under the title – Books That Foster a Sense of Humor in Your Child. I’m just glad she referred to the illustrations as “super-active” and not a negative combo of adjectives.
Read it online. Or below.
“The Book That Eats People” by John Perry; illustrated by Mark Fearing; Tricycle Press; 32 pages; $15.99.
A book that eats people? What could be more ridiculous? And kids love the ridiculous. Perry’s boldly red-and-yellow picture book warns, “This is NOT a storybook. It is NOT a book of rhymes. It isn’t a how-to book or dictionary. It’s a book that eats people,” with a picture of a saliva- and sharp-toothed-filled mouth. It gets funnier and more outrageous after that, delivering warnings about how a Judge tried to reform the book and how the book burped after gobbling down little Victoria Glassford.
Similar to a comic book with super active illustrations, the visual oomph adds to Perry’s completely wacky but hilarious picture book.
I have no affiliation with the good people at good reads.. but i think you really should get an account…. a couple reasons include:
-I am on there.
-I read awesome books.
-Most the books I read, I give you a short review and scoop out the next masterpiece and/or flop!
-I will know about all the awesome books you read and we can talk about mutually favorite writers…
Not many folks have heard of Barry Hughart. He’s only published three novels. But they are among my very favorite books; they are stories I can read and re-read with pleasure, delight and awe. I often call Hughart’s books the best novels you’ve never read.
The first is Bridge of Birds, which introduces us to Master Li, an ancient Chinese scholar with a slight flaw in his character, and Number Ten Ox, his peasant client. Set in an “ancient China that never was,” Hughart leads the reader through Chinese myth and literature, seamlessly blending Chinese culture with a very Western mystery. The plot is a puzzle that hides another puzzle. While our heroes set out to cure the children of Number Ten Ox’s village of a “plague that counts,” they find themselves also solving a great wrong worked against the gods themselves. Full of memorable characters, Bridge will move you between tears and laughter. And the ending is stupendous.
Hughart returned to Master Li and Number Ten Ox, this time with Ox as Master Li’s assistant, in The Story of the Stone. A lunatic, homicidal nobleman seems to have returned from the grave, wreaking havoc in the long-suffering Valley of Sorrows. Once again Master Li and Number Ten Ox must solve a mystery, and once again the mystery is fringed with the supernatural, homicide and genuine, laugh out loud developments. Along the way they meet some truly memorable characters, including Grief of Dawn, a young lady with a deeply mysterious past, and Moon Boy, a sound master and an entirely marvellous creation.
Perhaps the best invention in the novel is the characters’ mind trip through the Chinese Hell, which makes the efforts of Orpheus and Dante look pretty pitiful in comparison. The ending is less of a stunner than Bridge of Birds, but this story is a little more mature and tightly crafted than Bridge.
The third and, alas, last novel by Hughart is Eight Skilled Gentlemen. The execution of the Sixth Degree Hotsteler Wu, captured by Master Li and Ox, is interrupted by the appearance of a demon. That, in turn, leads to an assignment by the Celestial Master himself to investigate a mysterious murder of a mandarin. And once again our heroes have to battle demons, goddesses and an ancient myth that is all to real. This time, the survival of China itself is at stake.
I have this test for fantasy literature: when you finish the story, and look up, the real world seems just a bit dimmer, the colors a shade less bright, than where the author has taken you. By my test, Hughart is a great fantasy author. I only wish he had written more.
A number of 40-year commemorations of the Manson Family murders have brought these gruesome events of my childhood years back to memory. I was really too young to understand what all the fuss was about then, and now that I am old enough, I’m not sure I want to. Nevertheless, I have committed myself to exploring sects and violence in a religious setting, and the Manson murders have prongs of both phenomena. While recently refreshing my memory on these horrific events on a gray and rainy day, I noticed something I had not seen before.
Looks like someone's been on the yellow submarine a little too long
Charles Manson was (probably still is) a believer in hidden codes. He allegedly cracked a code in the Beatles’ White Album that led him to the belief in an apocalyptic battle that he was determined to begin. I wondered why the Manson Family tends not to be listed among other apocalyptic groups such as the Branch Davidians or Heaven’s Gate. They all share several traits, and although Manson’s revelations came from the Fab Four rather than the Holy Trinity, a revelation from on high spurred him into actions that had a tragic outcome, just as David Koresh or Marshall Applewhite.
The whole Helter Skelter code also reminded me of another, equally bogus pawning of randomness as divine messages: Michael Drosnin’s The Bible Code. When I read this bestselling bit of intellectual dry rot a few years ago, I was amazed that anyone could possibly take it seriously. God writing hidden messages in a holy book like some hormone enraged high schooler? And figuring out that a singular genius would figure it out just before the apocalyptic end without realizing that it is possible to read messages back into any media after they occur? It seemed all too much for a rational mind to take. In one of my courses at the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh I gave students the option of reading it for a secondary project. To my chagrin, when I had the papers in one particularly tear-stained paper wailed (seriously) that the writer wished she had been warned sooner! This book changed her life! Everyone must know! Unfortunately I left Oshkosh without finding out what became of her.
God may not play dice, but apparently he likes crosswords!
I felt bad for introducing an undergrad to such “academic” sleight of hand; some college students just haven’t developed the critical facilities to see through the remarks of Balaam’s various sidekicks. Come to think of it, Manson’s followers accepted his revelations uncritically as well. Maybe the real lesson in all of this is that we must examine very closely those who claim special revelation, whether it be from Lenin, McCarthy, Starr, and Harrington, or just from God Almighty.
Much thanks to Thomas Nelson for this review copy:
The Hole in Our Gospel: What Does God Expect of Us? the Answer That Changed My Life and Might Just Change the World by Richard Stearns
Hardcover: 320 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (March 10, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0785229183
Thomas Nelson
Amazon
An Overview:
Richard Stearns, president of World Vision U.S. since June 1998, reminds us that “Embracing the gospel, or good news, proclaimed by Jesus is so much more than a private transaction between God and us” (p. 2). And in seeking to correct our perception of the Kingdom of God, Stearns writes: “It was not meant to be a way to leaven the world but rather the means to actually redeem it” (p. 17).
There are five parts to this book: Part 1: The Hole in My Gospel—And Maybe Yours; Part 2: The Hole Gets Deeper; Part 3: A Hole In The World; Part 4: A Hole In The Church; Part 5: Repairing The Hole. And each part is further developed under several subheadings.
Mr. Stearns weaves many painful and yet inspirational personal stories throughout the book. These stories are taken from his own life (from giving up a successful career in the business world, and after much resistance, to finally becoming the president of World Vision) and from the lives of those World Vision has implacted globally (for example, Lida—a talented seamstress for Armenia, a country still recovering economically from years under Soviet rule—who after receiving a few loans from World Vision, was able to start and grow her business to the point of employing several others).
An Endorsement:
“Read this compelling story and urgent call for change-Richard Stearns is a contemporary Amos crying ‘let justice roll down like waters….’ Justice is a serious gospel-prophetic mandate. Far too many American Christians for too long a time have left the cause to ‘others.’ Read it as an altar call.” —Eugene H. Peterson, translator of The Message.
While reading this book, I slowly and painfully discovered that there was a hole in my gospel as well: “The gospel itself was born of God’s vision of a changed people, challenging and transforming the prevailing values and practices of our world” (p. 2).
Like so many others, I, too, needed to recover the full gospel of the Kingdom. This book helped.
Oh how I love it when the New York Times serves up decidedly different takes on the same book in its daily and weekly pages. Michiko Kakutani delivered a tough but largely positive review of Lorrie Moore’s “A Gate at the Stairs” in Friday’s paper, whereas Jonathan Lethem out and out raves about it in the paper’s Sunday book review section, suggesting that doubters ought to have their head examined.
So which is it? I have an even more mixed take on the book. There was much to love in “A Gate at the Stairs” — narrator Tassie Keltjin is affecting, as is her quirky family — but its weaknesses bugged me long after I finished reading. The plot, tied to fallout from 9/11, begs credulity. And I generally find it annoying when authors withhold key plot information under the guise of character obliviousness or diffidence, as was the case here. Killer closing lines couldn’t quite make up for those deficiencies.
Kakutani notes Moore’s clumsy job orchestrating certain revelations and an unfortunate tendency toward wordplay, but forgives those weaknesses, judging “A Gate at the Stairs” the author’s best book yet.
“If Ms. Moore, who started out as a short-story writer, demonstrates some difficulty here in steering the big plot machinery of a novel, she is able to compensate for this by thoroughly immersing the reader in her characters’ daily existences,” Kakutani writes.
Lethem will have none of that criticism, praising the author’s patience and “deft sleight of hand” alluding to grander themes. He does, however, acknowledge that he aware of one — only one — reader who doesn’t care for Moore, objecting to her punny prose. Lethem closes his review vowing to press this book on that doubter.
But that won’t quite do it, I’m afraid. Other reviewers also have issues with “A Gate at the Stairs.” DoubleX founding editor Hanna Rosen dings the narration as sounding too middle-aged in an otherwise positive review. Newsweek’s Malcolm Jones goes even further: He praises the beauty of Moore’s prose but questions the amount of suffering heaped on characters. “Is there a point beyond which a fiction writer is merely punishing his or her readers?,” he asks. “Moore delivers a lot in this hard-knocks coming-of-age novel. But making the acquaintance of the unforgettable Tassie is such an exhausting, punishing experience that you finish the book wondering if it was worth the trouble.”
I wouldn’t go that far. “A Gate at the Stairs” is well worth reading. Just not the second coming.
Read the reviews: Kakutani (NYT), Lethem (NYT), Jones (Newsweek), Rosen (DoubleX)
Last week on my night off, I decided to find a new book to read and I saw Healing the Masculine Soul by Gordon Dalby on my roommate’s shelf. I picked it and and it was so riveting that I finished it in five days. I was particularly gripped by the challenge to not “feminize” Jesus and God like much of the Western church has done. Many times, the virtues that are highlighted by the church are humility, meekness, compassion, which are all good things, but more naturally inclined for women. But the masculine traits of strength, integrity, willingness to fight on behalf of others are not highlighted as much in the church. And honestly, I do not want to be known as “a nice guy,” but as one who is strong and has the courage to be like the Lion of the tribe of Judah and roar. To not be afraid of difficulties and challenges that characterize this present evil age and to be an agent of God’s kingdom on the earth.
I had to attend a very interesting meeting today up in Liverpool Street, so I had a couple of train journeys to continue my reading of Richie Benaud’s magnficent opus “My Spin on Cricket”. You will know that thus far I have not been enthralled by this particular book – please see my thread here.
Today I embarked on a chapter called “Six Australian Innings”, where the doyen picked out six greats from Australia and outlined a memorable innings by each. Bradman’s selection he heard on the radio, which is an interesting method indeed, but no Aussie tome seems to miss out an innings by the Don. But it was the Adam Gilchrist part of the chapter that bemused me. As is his wont in this book, while discussing a topic, Benaud wanders off in the way of an elderly uncle getting side-tracked. For the first couple of times it is a minor distraction, but when it is consistently repeated throughout, it gets a bit dull, and then annoying. However, when the ramble is utterly, totally inaccurate, I get annoyed. As I said in Errors of a Doyen, with his fortune, his kudos, he could have got someone to check his stats, and reinforce his memory.
This was the part that made me think “Really?”
“Pakistan fought back on the first day with a first innings score of 304 that enthused spectators, and then Ricky Ponting hit a brilliant 207. Incredibly he was third out with the score on 257….”
Ricky Ponting, of course bats at number 3, and this seemed somewhat amazing given neither Langer, nor Hayden, nor any other member of that batting order were notable for limpet like scoring. This game took place in January 2005 at the SCG. The scorecard is linked here.
Did Ponting really score 207 before he was out at 257? Er…no.
Damien Martyn was out for 67 at 257. Ponting came in when the first wicket went down on 26, which would have meant he’d made 207 out of 231 runs – phenomenal in the extreme. Added to that one scan of the scorecard shows Ponting facing 332 balls in 491 minutes, so the other batsmen would have made 24 in over 8 hours. Closer inspection shows Ponting actually was 6th out on 529, having shared a long partnership with Gilchrist – one of the innings to which Richie was waxing lyrical. Not only is his memory fading (and at time of writing, this test match was fresh in the memory given the book was released in 2005) but his checker must have been on strike.
There is another less major error, but still one that could have been checked regarding Stan McCabe’s legendary knock at Trent Bridge in 1938 - scorecard here. In his chapter on the Australian Hall of Fame, he says of McCabe that he hit 232 out of the next 277 runs once Australia had been reduced to 134/2. Again, this seemed a remarkably high proportion, but this was a legendary knock. On checking the scorecard, the 3rd wicket went down on 134, not the second, which went down on 111. So McCabe got his 232 out of 300 runs; still massively impressive (unless of course he was 0 not out when the 3rd wicket went down, but I would imagine that was unlikely). A report of this innings can be found here.
I am sad about this book. I know I like a good moan, but I grew up with Richie’s commentary, insight and whimsical delivery and was looking forward to reading it. This book is a blatant mickey-take, and his publisher must have known this combination of anecdote and ramble wouldn’t cut the mustard. It was released as Richie was retiring and the queues at Leadenhall Market the day after the 2005 Ashes were testament to the respect he had here. The poor mistakes are such that I can only view it as a cynical cash ploy. After all, I bought it.
UPDATE – I am being picky now, but this is another statement in the book, this time on the subject of one day cricket. and the Gillette Cup. According to the doyen Ted Dexter….and his Sussex team won close finals in each of the first two years.
In a 60 over contest, if one team were skittled out for 127 and the opposition got them for 2 wickets with the best part of 19 overs remaining, would you call that close? The doyen believes this is a close final.
Maybe it was closer than it looked.
FURTHER UPDATE – Either Richie or Cricinfo is wrong. It was before my time, but Richie states about the 1975 World Cup Final “Viv Richards ran out three Australians and Alvin Kallicharan two.” Check out the scorecard. Ooops. I think, given this book, I know who I am backing to be right.
Why did he not employ someone to check up on these errors?
Minor quibble on the same page – Baptiste and Richards put on 59 for the eighth wicket, not 49 as Richie states in the 1984 ODI at Old Trafford. 161 minus 102 = 59. Unless cricinfo is wrong, of course.
AND ANOTHER – The hits keep on coming. On page 260, in recounting Michael Bevan’s match winning knock against England in Port Elizabeth, he refers to the defeated team as “Michael Vaughan’s England”. Cricinfo confirms what I recalled from Nasser Hussain’s autobiography, and that Insane himself was captain. See here. Again, minor. But annoying. He also states that the game was won with three balls remaining. As you can see from the scorecard, it looks like two balls are left.
I just think this is unacceptable from such a respected cricket commentator.
ANOTHER – In the chapter on Flintoff and Clarke, apart from recalling correctly now what happened in the first two tests of the South African series in 2003, he states that Michael Clarke made 37 not out on his debut in ODIs (against England in Adelaide). Needless to say, according to cricinfo, he didn’t. Again, very minor, but….on page 267 he states that Adam Gilchrist made “106 brilliant runs”. Again, cricinfo begs to differ.
You’ll be glad to know I’ve finished the book now!
Chrysanthemum, by Kevin Henkes, is about being proud of your unusual name. Before Chrysanthemum goes to school, her parents dote on her. They tell her how perfect she is and how they love her name; that it’s simply the best name EVER. The trouble begins when she goes to school and someone makes fun of her name. Why would someone say that her name is not perfect? Of course it is. Isn’t it? Chrysanthemum begins to have doubts. Now, she doesn’t want to go to school. Poor Chrysanthemum. Not even her parents can convince her that her unusual name is beautiful. Finally someone comes along and tells Chrysanthemum that her name is one of the loveliest names she’s ever heard of. This gives her her confidence back. A lovely little book.
Miss Bindergarten Gets Ready for Kindergarten is a book I’d recommend for, what else?… beginning Kindergarten. It’s too cute. I love the heroine Miss Bindergarten. In case you haven’t heard of it, there’s a series of books with Miss Bindergarten and her class. Most famously, Miss Bindergarten Celebrates the 100th Day of School. In this book, Miss Bindergarten prepares for the first day of Kindergarten.
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst, is about the worst day ever. It’s just one of them days! Everyone has them. This book captures that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day perfectly. It is such a cute little book. It all centers on Alexander who is having one of the worst days of his young life. It actually began the night before when he fell sleep with gum in his mouth; now there’s gum in his hair. He tripped on his skateboard and dropped his sweater in the sink while the water was running. From then, he could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. His best friend is no longer his best friend, and his mom even forgets to pack his dessert in his lunch. He thinks that he’s going to move to Australia! The day just keeps getting worse and worse as it spirals out of control. The book ends with his mom telling him that some days are just like that, even in Australia.
Listen Buddy, by Helen Lester, is about a little rabbit, named Buddy, who just doesn’t listen. He simply does not pay attention. This ends up getting him in trouble. Buddy’s mother sends him on different errandsThis book teaches how to follow directions.
David Goes to School, by David Shannon, is one of my favorite books. The title is self-explanatory. It’s about the little boy, David, who goes to school. The author, David Shannon, wrote his first book when he was 5, called No, David, No! Those were basically the only words he knew how to spell, no, and his own name. This book picks up where the other one left off. It’s very good for pre-K or Kindergarten. It teaches about misbehavior & its consequences as young David misbehaves the whole day and makes a series of excuses as to why he’s misbehaving. At the end of the book we see David washing all the desks until they sparkle. However, all is not lost as is given a pat on the head and a gold start. Even though we love David, we still see that there are consequences for misbehavior.
Since celebrated writer Walter Dean Myers celebrated his birthday this month (August 12, actually) I’ve been asking several staff members which Myers books they’ve read. Of course this lead to a discussion of favorites, and in honor of Mr. Myers‘ birthday we thought we’d share them with you. Here are our staff’s most loved books by one of the most revolutionary children’s authors of our time:
Dope Sick Myers blurs the fine line between reality and surreality in his latest. Lil J has gotten caught up in a drug deal he never intended to be a part of. In fact, his intentions for the day were to get a real job to help support his mom. Chased into a run down apartment building, he runs into a strange man who seems to know way more about Lil J than he should. This novel is fast-paced, strikingly rich, and important. -reviewed by Emily
Monster
This innovative, award-winning novel straddles the fence between movie script, noir fiction, and sociological thriller. If you want your pre-teen/teen to turn off those television cop dramas that are so ubiquitous in our lives, Walter Dean Myers’ book is the answer to your prayers. A great read. -reviewed by Brian C.
Sunrise Over Fallujah Walter Dean Myers is a fearless writer – in Sunset Over Fallujah, he takes his readers to war. As a soldier in a Civil Affairs unit, Robin Perry has chosen to serve his country, but at the same time feels conflicted about the purpose of the Iraq war. Like many of Myers’ characters, Robin is reflective and self-aware; he is understated but in constant contact with his powerful emotions. He is also courageously honest. But this is not primarily a story of war – it’s the transformation of a boy into a man, and the development of relationships – some life-changing and some short-lived – all of which is achingly true to life. -reviewed by Beth
Publisher’s Synopsis: Once a month, the six women of the Sweetgum Knit Lit Society gather to discuss books and share their knitting projects. Inspired by her recently-wedded bliss, group leader Eugenie chooses “Great Love Stories in Literature” as the theme for the year’s reading list–a risky selection for a group whose members span the spectrum of age and relationship status.
As the Knit Lit ladies read and discus classic romances like Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, and Pride and Prejudice, each member is confronted with her own perception about love. Camille’s unexpected reunion with an old crush forces her to confront conflicting desires. Newly widowed Esther finds her role in Sweetgum changing and is surprised by two unlikely friends. Hannah isn’t sure she’s ready for the trials of first love. Newcomer Maria finds her life turned upside-down by increasing family obligations and a handsome, arrogant lawyer, and Eugenie and Merry are both asked to make sacrifices for their husbands that challenge their principles.
Even in a sleepy, southern town like Sweetgum, Tennesee, love isn’t easy. The Knit Lit ladies learn they can find strength and guidance in the novels they read, the love of their family, their community–and especially in each other.
Ok, I figured out this was a sequel a couple of pages into the book, but I was too interested already. I love that the main characters are a wide variety of ages, all have different likes, dislikes, and opinions, and that nothing is wrapped up nicely and neatly in a perfect little package– and yet it is a great ending that leaves you hungry for more. No, this isn’t deep literature– it’s more like a wonderful escape into the little town of Sweetgum and enjoying a visit with old friends.
One of the delightful things about the book was the twinge of Pride and Prejudice shown in the story. Actually, I saw a little bit of the Dashwoods of Sense and Sensibility too, but I don’t think it was intentional. The characters were clearly recognizable without being a pathetic retelling of that classic story in today’s setting. That was a huge relief, I assure you.
While there were weak spots and I did struggle with part of the plot progression in a couple of places, I truly don’t know if that is because I was reading a sequel or if it was a fault of the story. Frankly, I don’t care. It was fun, delightful, and I’m keeping my copy. I’m also ordering the first one so I can get the “back story”. Once I’ve read that, I plan to read this again just for the sheer joy of disappearing into the world of the Sweetgum Knit Lit Society and their friends. I sure hope this isn’t the last of the tales… I’d love to know more about Esther, if Hunter is truly fine, and see Hannah grow into the lovely young woman I see hidden beneath her personna.
If you like a relaxing visit into another world… but with a clear plot and interesting characters, I’d give the Sweetgum series a serious look.
After your book is published, here are 5 things to avoid when pitching to a radio or television producer:
1 – Don’t pitch your book. Pitch an idea for a show.
2 – Don’t over promise. Be able to deliver what you say.
3 – Don’t be dull. Your letter has to communicate how vivacious you are.
4 – Don’t hide your message. Make sure it’s clear what you are suggesting.
5 – Don’t be annoying. Producers are busy. Bombarding the with correspondence or emails will hinder your chances for success.
The Servant series as a whole has been a wonderfully crafted dark, edgy and incredibly unique urban fantasy that has had me reading with a pounding heart at times and at others with tears in my eyes for the life Gaby, the lead character, has led.
Gaby is God’s paladin, she was born in horror and has lived her whole life alone, an outcast and in pain. Because of this she is truly innocent in the ways of the world and yet at the same time she is far more worldly wise than anyone should be. She is a ruthless killer for God, allowing him to use her as he will to eradicate true evil from the face of the earth. The monsters she encounters don’t have fangs or fur, they are far scarier than that, they are wholly human and completely evil. Gaby is God’s wrath, his vengeance, his tool. A tool that he has no compunction to use, to bend to his will, he is an old testament God that believes in an eye for an eye. Gaby is more than willing to do her duty and take that eye, turning the other cheek is not an option for her. Her reward for all of this has been pain, both physical and emotional and a life that was bleak and without hope.
That is until she meets Luther, a cop with an aura unlike any she has ever seen before, a man who sees beyond the abrasive attitude she shows the world, but one who sees the true reason both Gaby and God do this, love for the worlds innocents. And Luther loves her all the more for it.
In this final installment (how that hurts to write!) Gaby has finally moved in with Luther, but it isn’t going to be easy. The opening chapter had me reading with a breaking heart for Gaby as she struggled against her duty to God and her feelings for Luther. Ms Foster did a wonderful job portraying Gaby’s desperation and pain along with Luther’s reaction to seeing her in the grip of a mission, and later Gaby’s terror in the face of the storm.
After this the book begins to take a gentler turn (in context of the other two books) as Gaby and Luther struggle to find a way to work together, both in trying to find a vicious cannibal and in living together. Whilst I have enjoyed the edgy feel to the other two books that this one to a degree lacked, I can fully understand why this one was softer in tone, as it is sadly the last one.
The twist to the story was unforeseen but perhaps a little cliched, and in fact left more questions than it answered, which is a little frustrating as its the last book. I don’t want to go into too much detail as it will be too huge a spoiler but suffice it to say that it did detract slightly from the ending that should have been by rights a wonderful conclusion to a fantastic series.
All things considered I enjoyed this book immensely. The romance between Gaby and Luther was at the heart of the story and it was wonderful to watch Gaby grow and come to the realisation that she was no longer alone, and that perhaps she could find a way to be happy. And I loved watching Gaby explore her sexuality, in fact at times I did feel a little sorry for Luther as Gaby found the power of mind blowing sex!
This has been a wonderfully dark, edgy and emotional journey with a truly unique heroine that I shall sadly miss.
Being a veteran of reviews as Marianne de Pierres, I’m often asked how I view them etc. My answer is usually this… If you get 50% percent good reviews than you’re doing alright. Anything better than that is a bonus and does help to keep you bouyant through the long, quiet writing hours. Any less than that, and you probably need to have a good hard look at your work. It could be that you’ve written something so new and challenging and cutting edge that no one gets it. OTH, you could have written something so obscure that no one gets it. Or it could just be plain bad.
This is a kind of ball park, crude breakdown of how I analyse it.
Most decent reviews provide informed and balanced viewpoints, and declaration of reviewer biases (ie I don’t like this genre to begin with… or everyone but Ian M Banks sucks at this… ). These reviews are worthy of a writer’s time and reflection. Swallow the hurt feeling and learn from them.
Dealing with the really cruel, unbalanced ones is the tough thing. Some writers simply don’t read them. That’s the smart thing to do. Sometimes, however, you find your traitorous mind has sped read it before you can click the page away and the horror of what’s been said replays over and over in your mind.
I reviewed for several years for a state newspaper, among other outlets. As a writer, I understand what goes into the creation of a book, and I decided fairly early on not to review books I really disliked. Why? It’s not fair on ALL the people who are part of giving the book life. See, the author isn’t the only one with an investment in a published work. Consider the editor, the copy editor, the publisher, the trusted readers, the marketing people etc etc. They ALL believe in this book. Otherwise it would never have risen above the clamouring slush pile to triumph as a printed work.
Now don’t misinterpret this a a writer’s plea for nice reviews. It is more an author/reviewer’s wish that more reviewers could be good at what they do – rather than people using their reviews as catharsis for a bad day, week, life. The explosion of blog reviews has been an interesting development in this field. And while it’s probably increased the number of catharsis reviewers, it’s also uncovered some gems – reviewers with true critical genius, the new social commentarians (!?) of our era.
And just as a final thought. It’s often said that anonymity is a writer’s worst enemy. So even in the hour of the darkest, direst review you can take heart that someone, somewhere has had a reaction to what you’ve written. Better than never being read at all. Perhaps.
The Expanded Bible is not an entirely new translation. The text is a modification of The New Century Version. It leans toward a dynamic, or functional, equivalence in its translation. This means that there are some instances in which the translators decided on the meaning of the text for the reader instead of translating and leaving it to the reader to decide. At the same time, however, the text is made very readable.
What is nice about The Expanded Bible is its expansion. Inserted into the text are explanatory words and notes, a literal reading, alternate readings, as well as traditional readings. All of these are given for the purpose of helping the reader understand the Bible. I do believe that it does go a long way toward achieving its purpose.
I must say that I was more impressed with The Expanded Bible than I expected to be. I actually like it quite a bit.
The one drawback that I see is that the text is simply too busy. The expansions that are intended to help the reader understand the text actually get in the way. The attempt to help the reader to get beyond this by making the main text bold does seem to help.
I had no idea there were so many invented languages! I could have named Esperanto and maybe Klingon, but there are hundreds and hundreds of them. The first one is credited to Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th century nun. I knew she wrote in a strange way, but I guess I always just assumed it was a combination of Latin and old German and…nunspeak. Apparently, it’s considered an invented language.
One wave of language inventors attempted to create a language that was not just words, but also the definition at the same time. It works in theory, but you also have to memorize an extremely complex tree of ideas and concepts that then lead you to the syllable or word that you want. Then you also have to contend with how the words are being used.
The trend that produced Esperanto came from attempts to unite the world by dissolving the language barrier. It came the closest – there are actually native speakers of Esperanto! Problems here stemmed from the biases within the languages (many of them were based in Western European languages) and the reputations that the languages began to take on (many linguists didn’t take them seriously, often because they viewed supporters of invented languages as eccentrics and outsiders rather than scholars).
There also seems to be a pretty big faction of language inventors that attempted to remove emotion from language, leaving only logic behind. Their theory is that eliminating emotion would eliminate misunderstandings. Unfortunately, the language is so complex that, according to Okrent, actual conversations are few and far between.
Okrent provides histories of the various languages, as well as fairly personal profiles of many of their creators. She also describes the way they work and includes examples of constructions. The grammatical explanations can be a bit technical for those of us who aren’t linguists, but I think I managed to muddle my way through most of them. So if you’re looking for an introduction to invented languages, their uses, and their creators, I would highly recommend Okrent’s book as an accessible, witty, and interesting guide.
Avon, 2009, ISBN #978-0-06-135564-6
Historical Romance
The ladies of the ton won’t stop whispering about deliciously wicked Jack Dodger –once a theiving street urchin, now the wealthy owner of London’s most exclusively gentleman’s club. There’s no pleasure he hasn’t enjoyed, no debauchery the handsome scoundrel won’t provide for the lords who flock to his house of carnal intrigue.
Olivia, Duchess of Lovingdon, would never associate with such a rogue. So when Jack is named the sole heir to the duke’s personal possessions, the beautiful, well-bred lady is outraged. Now, Olivia is forced to share her beloved home with this despicable man.
But Olivia’s icy disdain is no match for Jack’s dangerous charm. His touch awakens desire. His kiss demands surrender. She will struggle to bar Jack from her heart… but her body, coveting divine release, will not let her bar him from her bed.
From the very first sentence in Chapter 1, the tension and rivalry between Jack and Olivia leap off the page of this book.
The devil had come to call.
Jack’s life had always been difficult. His mother had sold him as a child and he eventually ended up on the streets of London learning how to fend for himself as a thief. As a young adult, with a little financial backing from an unnamed sponsor, Jack opened a club for the rich and idle and soon had become a successful business man. If there’s one thing that Jack had learned in his life, it was to value money and property and he made it his life’s mission to keep acquiring more of both. So, when he is presented with the will of a man he’d barely known, which turned over all unentailed monies and properties to Jack in exchange for his guardianship for the Lovingdon her, Jack happily agrees and immediately sets out to inventory his new acquisitions.
One of the things I enjoyed most about this story, was Jack. He was wonderfully consistent and open about his greed. Everything included in the inheritance he immediately sees as ‘his’ and he makes no bones about it. If the widow Lovingdon wants anything, he’s happy, of course, to consider selling it to her. For a good price. He even goes so far as to suggest that her room, board and clothing may be his property, unless she’s willing to work for him as a hostess.
Jack is an absolute delight and his character remains refreshingly open and consistent throughout the story. He reminds me not a little of Clark Gable’s acting as Rhett Butler. He’s plain talking and bold. And he enjoys tweaking the very proper widowed Duchess.
Olivia has been raised to be an exceptional wife and hostess. She married the man her father asked her to and, even if she found herself very lonely after giving her husband his heir, she never expected much different from her life. She did her duty. And when her elderly husband died, she expected to retire to the country and raise her son in peace. Then she found out about the will and wondered if her husband hadn’t been insane before he died.
Afterall, what Duke in his right mind would leave the guardianship of his heir to a known ne’er–do-well owner of a House of Vice? They were expected to live in the same house? To get along? Not if Olivia has anything to do about it.
Olivia is no slouch herself. She’s no selfish Scarlett, she’s a smart, refined woman who is determined to protect her son from the questionable morality of his new guardian. Even if she is mildly intrigued about the fellow in some deeply repressed area of her mind, she just knows he’s trouble and she’s determined to remove her son from his influence. Olivia remains very true to her character until she grows a bit and learns what she really wants.
There were a very few moments in this story where I started to *rolleyes* at sterotypical romance cliche situations but, to my delight, Ms Heath turned them on their ear. For example, when Jack convinces Olivia to dress like a boy to go with them to the Crystal Palace, not only does everyone realize it’s a bad idea, they choose the one day of the week that the masses go (and the ton will be unlikely to be present to recognize her), and NO ONE IS FOOLED by her disguise! It’s fun to hear the background comments as people remark on the oddity of a girl dressed like a boy. Refreshing.
Overall, this was a delightful read and one I didn’t want to end.
Benjamin Lewin MW, What Price Bordeaux? Vendage Press (an imprint of the Wine Appreciation Guild), 2009.
Wine is bottled poetry, I have read, and bottled geography, too. It is also liquid doubt.
Uncertainty is a key obstacle to the purchase of wine because it is so difficult to know what’s really in the bottle at time of purchase (and, of course, if you will like it) . There are thousands of different wines from different places made in a myriad of styles. The uncertainty is magnified by the fact that wine changes with each vintage, each vintage changes as it ages, and we all have different tastes. Add to this the fact that some wines are frauds – not what they seem to be — and others are “lemons” with bad corks or random flows. It’s surprising, when you think about it, that anyone buys wine at all.
Diluting the Brand
Doubt is one of the biggest obstacles to the successful intersection of demand and supply for wine and much effort is expended in making consumers more confident in their purchases. Brands are one solution. A brand that has established a reputation for quality and consistency is a valuable thing in the wine market. This applies to both private brands like Robert Mondavi and to communal brands, like Champagne.
Champagne was the first wine appellation – a geographic designation meant to deter fraud and encourage confident consumption. It is probably the most valuable “brand” in all wine.
If Champagne is the top wine brand then Bordeaux must come a close second. Bordeaux wines are possibly the best, arguable the most famous and certainly the most expensive in the world. Or at least some of them are, because Bordeaux’s production includes much that is common, foul or unsellable at any price.
The paradoxes of Bordeaux and its famous brand are the subject of Benjamin Lewin’s new book, What Price Bordeaux? Although Dr. Lewin might disagree, I would say that one theme of his book is that the Bordeaux brand is a bit of a fraud. Bordeaux’s reputation is rooted in history, for example, as is the case of much Old World wine, but we learn that the Bordeaux wines of today bear little resemblance to wines of the past.
This is a good thing, in some respects. The Bordeaux wines of history were thin products, “corrected” to meet market demand by the addition of darker wines from Spain and the South of France. Bordeaux wines today are more like their arch rivals from the Napa Valley, both by choice and as a consequence of global warming, which has nearly eliminated the climate differences between the two regions.
Wine Mythbusters
The top brands in Bordeaux were established by the Classification of 1855, which grouped the chateaux into a rigid quality hierarchy based upon market prices at that time. This, Dr. Lewin’s analysis suggests, was a bit of a fraud as well, and not a very reliable guide to wine choices today.
My favorite chapter examines the “second wine” phenomenon. Many Bordeaux producers (and almost all of the top chateaux) produce a second wine (selling at a lower price) in addition to the flagship bottling. The second wine is marketed to people like me, who probably can’t afford to buy the top wine but want an idea of what it might taste like. We buy the cheaper product and imagine the taste of the grand vin.
The problem, Dr. Lewin tells us, is that there is no fixed idea of what a second wine should be and no certain relationship between the greater and lesser products. Indeed, he says, many second wines are poor values – over-priced because they benefit from the borrowed reputation of the top wine. Better off with a better wine at lower cost from a lower-tier producer, he suggests. Good advice for people who taste what’s in the bottle, not what they imagine to be there based upon the label.
Dr. Lewin’s book is unusually full of data for a wine publication – wine writers are better with stories than bar graphs – but it fits perfectly his myth-buster approach. The maps and figures are colorful and engaging – or at least they engaged the wine geek in me. Each chapter examines some particular aspect of the Bordeaux brand and reveals the reality behind the curtain. I admire both the book and Dr. Lewin’s research and expertise, although I would have appreciated a stronger central argument.
I noticed that last night someone used the search engine term “security strips” to find one of my posts.
I had a past post where I talk about how discouraging it is when I find the security strip removed from a book on the floor. We lost several books at the end of the school year this way. I know, because I have gone through the Fiction collection and reorganized….Why is so hard to find student help that can alphabetize?
Believe it or not, I managed to alphabetize and still work”Registration Hell.”
I hate to say that my student helpers are telling their friends how the books are “armed” and then their friends remove the security strip and steal a book from the library. But after finishing the Fiction section, there are too many books missing, to think otherwise. I hope the culprits have not been my student helpers.
I hate it when they steal the first copy in a series…obviously I hate that they think it’s okay to steal a book period. At least if I have the first book a series, a student can get started reading while I arrange the purchase of the missing book. I’ll be going out this week to replace several copies that are gone, using my own money. It is sad when students come to the desk because the book they are looking for has been stolen.
This year, even if I have to stay late, I will put the security strips in the books. I have noticed that some of the student help put the security strips in the back of the books where it is easy to find. Not this year. I have to say that there isn’t a good place to insert the strip in Manga books (graphic novels).
I know what you’re saying…”Hey Mrs. Hot…we thought that this post was going to have book reviews!”
Well, my friends, it does. Here they are:
“My Top Picks for Books Needing More Security”. MTPBNMS…
Not a great acronym, is it? I’ll work on that.
My first recommendation is Swoon written by Nina Malkin. I predict that I will need a sign up sheet for this ALA Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers. This book gave me the feeling of New England in the fall, kind of an Ichabod Crane meets the 21st century. The plot revolves around three characters, Dice, Penn and Sin. The text is rich, bringing to mind very colorful images. It was hard to put down. I think my students who will check out New Moon again, while they wait for the movie will be reading this one too.
There’s a bit of a love triangle and many discussions of sex. It is not a book for middle schoolers. 11th grade and up.
I have attached a link to a video from the publishing company.
My second place must read is Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater
To say that I loved this book would be an understatement. I know my students are going to love it too. I will need to pick up a few more copies of this by next week.
The two main characters are Grace and Sam. Sam saved Grace when she was a young child. Now it is up to Grace to save Sam, but can she? I was prepared to not have an “emotionally satisfying ending” but the twist surprised me.
http://www.expandedbooks.com/video/view/498
This was by far my favorite of these three.
I picked up for the cover art alone. Isn’t it gorgeous
The story may sound remotely familiar….girl sent to live with her grandmother…no not outside Seattle…on the other side of the continental US…Maine. Need circles around Zara, Nick, Ian and Zara’s quirky new friends…and a stranger who leaves behind a trail of gold dust.
Everybody Does Something to Change Their Appearance for Advancement - Photo Courtesy of Stockexpert.com
The politics of black hair shows in books like Tenderheaded to the Princess of Wales plays ‘Da Kink in My Hair and Hairspray to movies like Beauty Shop to songs played on Flow 93.5.
Everyone alters their hair to gain more power in society. Dr. Mariame Kaba, who received her PhD from Northwestern University, is also a contributor to the book Tenderheaded. In her work, Kaba discusses the straightening of black women’s hair as an agent for political power. Keeping one’s hair natural is also a source of political gain by using one’s ethnicity to move forward in society. At the time I did my master’s thesis with the title Afro Forever: Research Paper on Salon Utopia, I did not see I was using my natural hair to obtain personal and professional power in the employment I chose after graduation from Concordia University’s Media Studies program.
I was an Announcer/Producer with Radio Canada International with an estimated audience of 600,000 listeners worldwide. I worked on a news and current affairs program called African Eyes which was broadcast to sub Saharan Africa. Educating Africans about Canada with my natural hair at the time made me belong with my fellow co-workers. The same is true for other cultural groups.
Francis B. Nyamnjoh, Deborah Durham and Jude D. Fokwang write in Identity, Culture and Politics, about “The Domestication of Hair and Modernised Consciousness in Cameroon: A Critique in the Context of Globalisation” that Africans women consume Western ideals in their choice of hair design and do not control the flow of hair aesthetics in the global marketplace. This is true, not just in Cameroon. However, even non-African cultures are strongly affected by Western ideals.
In Grant McCracken’s Big Hair: A Journey into Transformation of Self, he focuses on the effect big hair had on a mainly Caucasian group of celebrities in the 1980s. These women used their hair, a big part of one’s image, to advance themselves in their chosen profession of glamour. The same can be said of the South Asian man who gets a hair cut to work in arts journalism, the Jewish and Hispanic women who straighten their hair for the job interview and the older men who colour their hair to look more hip or use their grey power. In all these cases, some form of alteration has been made with the aim for advancing economically. Our cues for the choices we make often come from media and culture.
My dissertation will analyze the media and cultures of people of colour; red, brown, gold, black and white to show how the majority of us succumb to the media and our culture for political gain through our hair. I am especially interested in taking the film courses offered at Ryerson and York.
I did my 90 page master’s thesis entitled Afro Forever. I also did a master’s project, a 26 page website called Salon Utopia. I’ve written articles on black hair politics for a Panache Magazine, an International black woman’s magazine and written about beauty in general for Canoe.ca’s Lifewise section. I have done commentaries for the CBC on black hair politics in Montreal which has been syndicated and replayed.
Over the last month and a half, I have been absorbed in the world of Tally, a teenage girl living in the future. Scott Westerfeld’s series, “Uglies,” “Pretties,” “Specials” and “Extras,” focus on Tally and her friends and she navigates a world where, at age 16, everyone receives an operation to make them beautiful, and the same, as everyone else.
I read about these on a book blog, and thought they sounded like a Twlight Zone rip-off. But, I picked up “Uglies” on a whim one day at the library, and I’m glad I did; I couldn’t have been more wrong! These books immediately pulled me into Tally’s life and society — I wanted to know more about this society; how did our society evolve into theirs? Westerfeld answered all these questions, but wove them into the story, which I thought was perfect, especially for the young adult audience.
Westerfeld also created some futuristic teenage slang, which made the futuristic setting more believable. The imagery in each of these novels was beautiful and vivid, and one haunting scene from “Specials” stands out as a particularly good example of this. The plot in each of the books is fairly straightforward, if you know the name of the next book, you can probably guess where the plot will end up, but its the getting there that’s interesting. Likewise, the “message” of each book is straightforward, but they are none the less an easy, entertaining read.
Of the three, my favorite was probably “Pretties,” as that’s where we see most of Tally’s personal development, not just the personality that is more or less forced on her. Overall, I would give these books a 4 out of 5, and recommend them to someone who is looking for a fun, lighter science-fiction read.
I am curious about what other readers like myself think about book reviews. I love them and read any and all I can. Sometimes I agree, sometimes I don’t, but I always want to know what other people think of what I am reading. So….
1. Do you read book reviews?
2. Where do you get most of the book reviews you read? Websites, magazines, etc.?
3. Does the review affect your decision to read the book?
4. What do you like to see most in book reviews?
5. Do you, like me, wish you were a full time book reviewer?
I am interested what all you chicks (as well as non-chicks) out there think….let me know!
I still remember the first time news broke about an Austrian man who kept his own daughter captive in an underground dungeon for 24 years, never letting her out, constantly raping her and eventually fathering seven incestuous children with her. It was a story so sickening, so unimaginable that even the most morally depraved horror novelist could not have come up with it. If it were made into a movie critics would laugh at it for being too unbelievable. And yet it was absolutely true.
Monster by British journalist Alan Hall is a valiant attempt to understand Josef Fritzl, the man who shocked the world with the most atrocious crimes against his own flesh and blood. I was initially skeptical about the book because of the speed with which it was released, concerned that it might be no more than a half-baked effort to cash in on everyone’s interest in the story. I was wrong.
While the book was published relatively close to the initial revelation (roughly 7 months), Hall has packed a great deal of insightful information into the 288-page book, complete with exclusive interviews (with neighbours, former tenants, childhood friends, police officers), photographs of those involved and diagrams of the dungeon. Of course, an early publication also unfortunately means that there are many details left uncovered. There are no interviews with any members of the Fritzl family, and no information relating to the Fritzl trial as it had yet to commence.
Summary
Hall takes an analytical approach that begins with Fritzl’s childhood, going into depths on his obsessive relationship with his overbearing mother, Nazi influences, and the fact that he was a couple of years older than his classmates. These were the type of things that may have shaped his controlling personality and his abnormal yet insatiable sexual appetite. Hall then ventures into Fritzl’s adulthood as he becomes an ingenious engineer (the skills from which would later be utilised to create the foolproof dungeon) and marries a subservient, unquestioning wife who bears him seven children, including Elizabeth, the daughter he would begin abusing at age 11 and imprison from age 18.
The book then takes a dark turn and begins detailing Elizabeth’s ordeal – the constant rapes, giving birth to her father’s children alone (armed with nothing but some primitive medical materials and an old book to guide her through), raising 3 of them by herself underground (and losing 4 – one to death and the other 3 brought above ground). All this time, Fritzl went about his business as usual, renting out the apartments above to unsuspecting tenants, fooling police into believing Elizabeth had joined a cult, building extensions to the dungeon and visiting local brothels and taking debaucherous sex trips to Thailand.
Inside the Fritzl dungeon
It all ends when the health of Kerstin, Elizabeth’s eldest child, begins to fail and Fritzl has no choice but to seek professional medical attention. The doctors grew suspicious of the girl’s unusual physical condition and alerted the police – things snowballed from there and soon the shocking details were revealed to the world. At the time of publication, the entire underground and above-ground families were in a secure medical and psychiatric facility receiving treatment.
Style
I’m a fan of Hall’s writing style. It is professional, easy to read and well-structured. There were no boring bits that I wanted to skip.
A story like this would be no stranger to hyperboles. Alan Hall does a good job of keeping his emotions in check and ensuring that Fritzl’s tale is told with a steady level of objectivity. From time to time he wavers, but for the most part the writing remains journalistic and objective.
At the end, Hall does offer his personal views as he is particularly critical of Austrian culture – which he believes is partly responsible for the Fritzl case and several other similar cases of horrendous abuse, such as the Natascha Kampusch case (which Hall has also written books about). Hall believes that since World War II, Austrians have tended to mind their own business and preferring to sweep things under the rug rather than bring them out in the open. It is this culture, coupled with appalling police inadequacy and a justice system that is over-protective of criminals, that allowed someone like Josef Fritzl to get away with it for 24 years. Regardless of whether you agree with Hall, he does put forward a compelling argument.
Final thoughts
Monster is a solid book suitable for those with an interest in the Fritzl case. It answers a lot of the questions that I had about the case – such as (1) how Fritzl’s wife Rosemarie could possibly not have known what was going on, (2) how Elizabeth was unable to escape, and (3) how come the dungeon was not uncovered sooner (for those interested, see the end of this post for answers).
Unfortunately, the book was published before Fritzl stood trial, so I’m sure there are more details that were uncovered later not in the book. Nevertheless, I found it a fascinating read, the type of book that you could finish in a single sitting on a rainy afternoon or night alone at home.
4 out of 5 stars
[Answers to my own questions: (1) Rosemarie was terrified of Fritzl and never questioned him despite his rape conviction and prostitute visits. Fritzl also kept her busy and away for large chunks of the year running his motels. Elizabeth had also run away before. All those that know the family are convinced she had absolutely no idea. (2) Fritzl was a genius engineer who built the dungeon to be completely escape-proof and sound-proof. There were 8 doors to the dungeon, including 2 that were electronic - and only he knew the codes. (3) The police bought Fritzl's story that Elizabeth had run away to join a cult, and Fritzl's prior convictions were erased under Austrian law. He purchased supplies from various far-away places to avoid detection. He forbid his family (who were totally obedient to him) and his tenants (who were terrified of him) from going near the dungeon. Various people who saw him and had suspicions never bothered to contact police.]
Winchester, Simon. The Professor and the Madman: a Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary. New York: Harper Perennial,1999.
I was supposed to read this last August and I ended up reading something completely different by accident. The titles were nothing alike but I kept getting them confused. Go figure.
Is this a movie? If it isn’t, it should be. They say that truth is stranger than fiction and I agree. Dr. W.C. Minor was a brilliant American doctor who was found legally insane after committing murder. During his confinement in a mental institute in London, Minor embarked on a quest to help Professor James Murray compile submissions for the Oxford English Dictionary. His astounding contribution led Professor Murray to seek out Dr. Minor, learn of his confinement in an asylum for the criminally insane, and despite all that, become the closest of friends.
The story itself appears benign. Dr. Minor’s mental illness consists mostly of hallucinations and the paranoia that certain people were “messing with him.” As a result nothing could prepare me for the moment when Dr. Minor decided on December 3rd, 1902 to cut off his own penis (a procedure called autopeotomy). “In his delusional world he felt he had no alternative but to remove it. He was a doctor, of course, and so knew roughly what he was doing” (p 193). What the ??? It’s this tongue-in-cheek writing that makes The Professor and the Madman so much fun to read.
BookLust Twist: In both Book Lust and More Book Lust. In Book Lust in the chapter called, “Words to the Wise” (p 249), and in More Book Lust in the chapter called, “Dewey Deconstructed: 400s” (p 68).
The heart of the new approach to selling, which Ram Charan propounds in What the Customer Wants You to Know ( www.penguinbooksindia.com), is an intense focus on the prosperity of custo mers.
“The entire psychological orientation is shifted 180 degrees. No longer do you measure your own success first. Instead, you measure success by how well your customers are doing with your help.”
This is possible only if you ask questions such as: ‘What are your customers’ goals? Which financial measures are they most keen about? How do they create market value and what are the key factors that differentiate their product or service from those of their competitors?’
Charan sees the greatest opportunities in the medium- and long-term, ‘where you and your customer can work together to change the nature of the game in your customer’s industry based on value you can help provide.’
By Jillian Michaels
Buy on Amazon
Published April 2009 (Hardcover) by Crown
More Info: Jillian Michaels
Jillian Michaels tells me her newest book Master Your Metabolism leaped onto the New York Times bestseller list the day it pubbed. But she says being number two on the list — and not number one — is driving her crazy. I can interpret that for you. Buy her book.
If you watch her show Biggest Loser, you know she’ll fight for that number one spot. She fought for that body, too. Hard to believe, but Jillian says she was once a butterball, stuffing food as a substitute for love. She snapped out of that attitude after her mother signed her up for a martial arts class. And never looked back.
This is not your mother’s metabolism Jillian is talking about. Really, it’s your hormones.
She surprised me with all her self-torture – and how her self-treatment turned around for her. She told me she had gone to an endocrinologist when her face had a mysterious pigment, and yet she wasn’t on the pill or pregnant. Jillian learned that her hormones were all messed up.
Why? In part, all those Frankenstein foods we eat. I was so tempted to engage her in a political discussion, viz a viz, how could our feds that regulate so much of our lives let corporations get away with poisoning us. Jillian simply says to be aware, and to vote with your food dollars.
Buy organic — yes, it costs more in the short-run, but honey medical care is expensive. Take that from me — I got diagnosed with Diabetes Two three summers ago, and last year medical care cost me $14,000. Care to guess what my clothes budget was? Suffice it to say, lycra lasts many years. I’m buying organic now. Just bought organic oatmeal before I read Jillian’s book, and sure enough, during our interview this morning, she said that’s how she starts her day. She doesn’t eat any carbs with dinner.
Jillian is worried about our nation’s kids — most of their diet is high fructose corn syrup, which is broken down only by the liver. Dangerous. It’s not fad diets that will slim you and your kids down. It’s staying away from processed foods. Her three-step program begins with Removing antinutrients, then Restoring super foods to your diet, and finally Rebalancing, which means figuring out when to eat and how, to make your body a fat-burning machine.
Jillian kicked butt in our interview. We swung out on a fast pace and kept it going — with a smile in our voices — for our allotted fifteen minutes. The end of the interview I asked her for the take-away — she said “knowledge is power.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Yeah! You ask great questions!” Jillian Michaels said.
Hey, she’s not so tough.
I’d love to train with Jillian. For now, her book will do.
I studied with Advaita master Jean Klein for approximately three years both in the United States and England. I took part not just in weekend intensives in New York and Berkeley and other locations, but also in extensive retreats in Joshua Tree, CA, as well as in England.
People frequently ask me about the esoteric form of yoga Jean Klein taught and the role of the body in his non-dual teachings. The following book review explores some of the reasons that Jean believed it was important to undertake the subtle, energy-oriented bodywork that he brought us.
Transmission of the Flame, by Jean Klein
Jean Klein, the remarkable Advaita Vedanta master, who was also a medical doctor and accomplished violinist, died on February 22, 1998. Those who are searching for truth and meaning and who did not have an opportunity to meet him and work with him would do well to read some or all of his many wonderful books.
In Transmission of the Flame, by Jean Klein, for instance, we have the opportunity to relive in ourselves the illuminating dialogues that took place between Jean Klein and his students during seminars in Holland, America, England, and France in 1988-89.
But these are no ordinary dialogues. As we listen closely, and as we try to understand, we see that it is finally only through living in a deep, silent “not knowing” that we can awaken to our fundamental nature, to the “I am” of pure consciousness.
Until the publication of this book, little was known publicly about Jean Klein’s history and awakening. This book, however, includes a fascinating prologue in which he discusses certain key events of his life, including some meetings with his teacher in India.
Jean Klein
Although Advaita has to do with the realization that we are not the mind, body, and senses, that we are the consciousness the lies behind, at the core of Jean Klein’s teaching one find great emphasis on both the body and the “energy body,” or “vital body.” Jean Klein tells us in the prologue why he emphasized so much this work with what we are not. After returning from India, he says, “It became apparent, through meeting people, that identification with what we are not is confirmed and reinforced by contraction on the psychosomatic level. The I-concept is only a contraction on the level of the body-mind. It has no more reality than a bad habit. It is a defense against being nobody. … In getting to know the body-mind, one can discover more clearly the nature of the identification, and so let it go. The relaxed body is a relaxed mind. In a relaxed body and mind you are open to receiving, available, welcoming, open to the openness. The relaxed, light, energetic, sattvic body-mind are a near expression your real nature.”
Later, in response to a question about the “vital body,” Jean Klein says “When you close your eyes for a moment and detect the subtle body, you will realize that your body is not limited by the formation of the skin, of the bone-muscle structure. You will feel yourself expanded. I myself have no idea or sensation of my body being limited. Whether my eyes are open or closed, I am everywhere, expanded in space.”
In this beautiful book, Jean Klein takes us beyond lineages, beyond techniques, and beyond our self-image to the underlying reality of global consciousness and being.
To further explore Jean’s approach to ”bodywork, I am including here something that Jean said in the July 1991 issue (Number 4) of his wonderful journal “Listening,” in the section “Body Approach” (you can find a compilation of 10 issues of the journal in The Book of Listening:
“The body is an object of our awareness; it is sensed; it takes place in our awareness. The body is in us, but we are not in the body. If we were we could not be aware of it. …”
“When we do the bodywork the sensation is felt and explored in our awareness. There is space between ‘I’ and the sensation. You are no longer stuck to it, the object. The goal of the bodywork is to make us aware of this space between the ‘I’ and the object, a space that is habitually cramped. This space between the object and ‘I’ is still in duality, but there comes a moment when the space is felt as our real nature, we abide in it, and the object, the sensation, appears in it.”
ParisChanging: Revisiting Eugene Atget’s Paris by Christopher Rauschenberg for Princeton Architectural Press, 2007
A photobook that is almost 50% composed of photographs by Eugene Atgetis going to be difficult for me to objectively review. I have to admit that I have a relatively strong bias about Atget, because I like his straight forward photographic content so much. Perhaps what I had not anticipated was that by studying Rauschenberg’s rephotographing of Atget’s work, besides studying Rasuchenberg’s work, what more I might understand about Atget’s photographs.
Christopher Rauschenberg’s Paris Changing, Revisiting Eugene Atget’s Paris is a photobook that I had been looking forward to reviewing. The concept behind this book was a chance photograph of an Eugene Atget composition made by Rauschenberg, which subsequently inspired him to return Paris to rephotograph as many of Atget’s earlier compositions that he could find. He made three trips to Paris specifically to work on this rephotographing project in the late 1990’s.
The concept of re-photographing earlier photographic work is not a new concept, as explained in the essay by Alison Nordstrom. To varying degree’s, re-photographing has been completed to various degrees by Nichlas Nixon, Douglas Levere, Matthew Buckingham, Omar Khan and the Mark Klett projects. Of these, perhaps the Mark Klett projects are the most rigorous, bordering on a scientific methodology, when he is paying close attention to the time of day, the season, the atmospheric conditions and the lighting, all with an attempt to create an exact replication.
With the Atget matched photograph on the facing spread, you quickly understand that Rauschenberg was not as rigorous in his rephotographing concept. The seasons, time of day, the atmospheric conditions and lighting all vary between the two bodies of work. Eugene Atget had the luxury of understanding that he had on-going local project, that what was not completed in one season, would be continued the next.
In retrospect, we know that Atget only photographed during a certain time of year, something that Bernd & Hiller Beacher realized and applied to their typological photographs in the 1980’s. The other stylistic trait of Atget’s was to photograph early in the morning, when the streets were usually empty of carts and people. That enabled him to concentrate his focus on the line and mass of the building facades and structures. Again, this practice of photographing without the presence of people is another stylistic practice of the new topograhics of the Beachers and Lewis Baltz and currently John Fitts among others.
Perhaps recognizing his time constraint, Rauschenberg did not strive to achieve the exact environmental appearance of Atget photographs, nor the exact composition. It appears that he was striving to create an equivalence in the feeling and mood of Atget’s compositions. To see what Atget saw, but to see it anew today. As a result, we find ourselves looking at the same scene standing further back, or closer or more to one side or another, just not exactly the same. A key compositional aspect that Atget had captured may have been moved, or a new structure is now in place of where he had once stood.
Like other rephotographing projects, when you place two photographs side by side, but with a lapse of 100 years between the two, you immediately notice the changes. Much like the picture game that kids play, with two almost identical images side by side, where you have to circle the differences. In this case, the changes can be immense, with entire blocks of building now missing or perhaps new complexes standing where a park once lay.
Equally fascinating is comparing a pair of facing photographs and realize that there are only a few perceptible changes that have occurred in the last 100 years. Such as the cover photograph (and below) of Jardin du Luxembourg that Atget photographed in 1906. The seated man is now missing, but the same bench remains in the same location, as does the statuary and most of the trees. The trees, like us, have become a little stouter with the passing years, as well as now missing a limb or two. But otherwise, the content appears relatively unchanged and you could possibly mistake the Rauschenberg for the Atget photograph, if it were not for the usual softness of the Atget photographs.
The changes are obvious when entire buildings are missing or new ones have been erected. The subtle differences are the spray paint graffiti replacing the paste-up posters, both placed on the walls late at night and considered an eye-sore in their respective era. The horses and hand carts have been replace by cars and moped scooters. Interesting to see in a photograph that a bricked road has been replaced with cobblestone, probably to provide the impression that the cobblestone street is old and ancient. Perhaps not. Some of the old structures now have a modern facade, with large plate glass windows replacing old wooden doors.
Also interesting in the content of the paired photographs that some locations are still serving similar functions; a nursery selling flowers and plants, a restaurant, a clothing store, although with much newer mannequins, but not that much difference in how the clothes are displayed.
Rauschenberg did find an “Atget” fountain at Saint Cloud about the same time of year, the trees relatively barren, with a small sea of steps in the background moving in the misty background. There are some noticeable change, the fencing around the fountain has been updated and in the background, a new bushy tree has appeared. Although Rauschenberg has not created the same soft image as Atget did, he has provided a modern adaptation that still is still moody and mysterious, which I find equally esthetically delightful to that of Atget’s. Similar but uniquely different.
During Rauschenberg’s rephotographing of 500 of Atget’s scenes, he came across some non-Atget locations that were Atget-ish, and there are 10 of these photographs in a section title “In Atget’s Shoes”, for which Rauschenberg writes
“As I traveled through Paris rephotographing Atget’s images, I kept seeing places that he had not photographed but that seemed to me to be also rich with the feeling of his work. I photographed hundreds of those places I felt Atget’s spirit. I was simply walking around Paris “in Atget’s shoes”, and this is where they took me.”
It is the compare and contrast of Atget’s and Rauschenberg’s photographs that you gain insight on how both of these photographers “see”, what one left in or left out compared to the other. I knew that Atget’s photographs were soft and atmospheric, created by a number of reasons, but I did not realize how much. Likewise, it is more apparent to me of how careful Atget had been on ensuring his composition was balanced and what details he kept with in the edges of his frame. And from a technical aspect, his tripod might have been shorter than I would have thought, as his perspective is usually from about mid-waist looking across or upward, versus at eye level and downward.
It also has become more apparent to me that Atget’s aesthetics result from the seasons he chose when he photographed. We do not see any signs of snow, but he did forge into late Fall and early Spring. Perhaps to take advantage of the clear sight that resulted by the leave-less trees. And the weather had to be nice in order to entice the restaurants to bring their chairs out in the open or the retailers to display their wares on the sidewalks.
For Rauschenberg’s rephotographing of Atget’s work, especially since he was not trying to create an exact duplication, it is informative as to what is included and excluded in the side by side comparisons. Such that the content of Rauschenberg’s photographs are sharply deliniated and seem to have a longer tonal scale than Atget’s.
The hardbound book is very nicely printed and bound, and includes an informative essay by Alison Nordstrom as well as essays by Clark Worswick and Rosamond Bernier.
Starlet Amelie Adams’s new movie is being shot on location–at Beverly Hills High. But the drama on-screen is nothing compared to what’s happening off-screen. Lights, camera, deception!
As far as this one went, it was a bit of a filler. Lots of drama and plot, yes, but definitely a filler. I was also really hoping for a Myla/Ash reunion but–spoiler alert!–it didn’t end up happening after being hinted at for, you know, a good length of the book.
Some people were wondering whether the cast of characters was more connected in this one. The answer is yes, although it still is very six degrees of separation-y. Myla and Jake actually come face-to-face a couple of times, and Amelie ends up being buddy-buddy with Myla’s crew. Ash and Jojo interact a bit. They’re all separated, but it’s not like you’re trying to follow two completely different plotlines.
I’d read it, but only for the sake of keeping up with the series. If Hollywood Royalty wasn’t your cup of tea, then don’t bother.
I’m not trying to strike it down or anything though. I really do like these books. They’re like the original A-List for the younger set: no drugs, no sex, and little drinking.
The No. 1 Ladie’s Detective Agency is a hit TV show on Britain’s BBC and America’s HBO network. Author Alexander McCall Smith continues to write additional novels in this detective and cultural series that will keep the series going for a good while, must to viewers’ delight.
This is a review of the 6th book in the series, a story that piles on the detective cases for Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi and the auto repair workload for Mr. J.L.B. Maketoni and company. They need to hire additional help! Of course, the cases and the repair work keep coming.
This installment adds new characters and intriging sublots involving bent bicyles, great pumpkins, strange events, and dread secrets. Read more at
Book 6 in the Were-Hunter Series or book 28 in the connected Hunters series (Dark, Were & Dream Hunters)
Until I read and reviewed Acheron I had had no real interest in this series, but after finishing Acheron I promised myself I would go back and read the others and did so not long ago (and it was a fantastic fest of hunters!). I was hooked, although in some of the books I think it was more for a glimpse of Simi, my all time favourite character in this series, than anything else. But as a whole I found the books to be filled with action, romance, a good story and more importantly for me characters that drove the books forward because of the depth of their pain, caring or sheer force of personality. I can’t say the same for this one. I won’t say I hated it because I didn’t (well not entirely).
This book tells the story of Fang (Vane and Fury’s brother) and Aimee (the only daughter of clan Peltier), characters we have met in a number of other books. Fang is a wolf and Aimee a bear, there love is forbidden on many levels not least being that they are different animals to each other.
The book was sadly a confusing mess of past stories, that weren’t even rehashed just glossed over. For me the major problem with this book was the fact that Ms Kenyon in her attempt to make this book fit with the others forgot to actually develop the story to this one, or actually really tell Fang and Aimee’s story other than with a few snippets here and there.
The time scale was vague with no clue as to what was going on in intervening months and was filled with so many ‘over the coming weeks’, ‘a few months passed’ or just an assumption of time passing as to make it confusing and bland. As an example Fang spends months having black outs and is accused of murdering numerous humans and hunters, this is covered in just a few short passages and the wonderfully articulate “over the next few months… ” Very little attempt is made to show where he has been, how he is feeling, how he was lived and perhaps more to the point how this has affected the woman he loves, or the brothers who remain loyal to him all of whom knew he was missing and suspected of being a murderer (Surely a wonderful opportunity for character development?). I have come to expect so much more from Ms Kenyon, and to be truthful if this was a new author I was reading, it would be the first and last time!
There was no character development in this book, in fact it failed to tell us anything about Fang except what we already knew in passing. There were some wonderful opportunities to develop an understanding of the motivations and emotions of both Fang and Aimee but they never materialised. In fact Fang (and even Vane) seemed to have undertaken a personality transplant with no explanation except that a few weeks had passed…well what happened in these weeks to make him change to a lovey dovey love sick puppy from the belligerent, smart mouthed wolf we knew and loved? And are we really expected to believe that Vane just wiped his hands of his brother when he came out of his coma all hurt and angry over his perceived abandonment?
It was clear that there was an assumption that we have all read the previous books and so back story could be skipped, but this resulted for me at least, in a story that was confusing and felt only half written. I am sorry but I cannot recommend this book, and would go so far as to say skip it if not for the fact that we meet yet more new characters and get a tiny hint of yet another possible hunter group about to make an appearance …I hazard that this will be the Demon (not daimon) Hunter spin off.
This series is in danger of becoming a victim of its own success, there are too many factions, interacting reoccurring characters and spin offs to make it comfortable reading. You almost have to sit there with your computer open to Ms Kenyon’s web site re-hashing who did what, with whom and in what order …in fact with this book I did that on a number of occasions…which does not make for good reading regardless of the other issues I had with it.
Lets just hope this was a blip on the horizon and not a taste of whats to come!
I’m half-entertaining the idea of giving myself a reading challenge. I have nothing better to do this coming year. How many books in a year would be impressive? I obviously don’t want to do anything difficult unless I can retain some bragging rights from the experience.
I’ve been reading Late Nights on Air by Elizabeth Hay. I remember buying this book when Eric and I had just started staying up until all hours on the phone. I did what I always do: Get drawn in by a title/cover/author, read the back, read the first page and if it can hook me then and there I buy it. The first page describes one of the characters hearing another character’s voice for the first time. How he falls for her before he ever lays eyes on her. It’s beautiful, really.
I love the radio. I love falling asleep to CBC Radio 2 at night, letting the voices flow in and over me like waves. That’s part of the reason I love going to my cottage so much. Without a T.V. or a computer we are at the mercy of the radio programming. Some of my favourite memories of Luke and I are sitting on comfortable old chairs my parents have rescued, periodically stoking the fire in the wood stove, reading quietly and separately but listening to the radio together.
A hand on my arm startling me from my reverie.
“Oh, I love this song.”
The tiny room getting uncomfortably hot. Stripping slowly at first in necessity and then, just because.
Padding barefoot to the kitchen afterward to get a glass of water, droplets of sweat evaporating dry and cold on my skin. Catching eyes with myself in the dark glass in the window above the sink.
I have to remind myself it wasn’t always this way.
After awhile we ran out of things to say to each other. We would just coexist in silence and I didn’t even miss the sound of his voice. But, I did miss the music. That was the beginning of the end, I know now.
Hay has a great passage in her book that floored me for so many reasons. Well, in any case, here it is:
But there came a moment when Eddy set the wine bottle on the coffee table, and the hard, neat sound of glass on wood marked a shift in the party. In his abrupt, inscrutable way, Eddy stood up to leave, and Harry had all his suspicions confirmed. Between Dido and Eddy things were more advanced than he’d wanted to believe, more advanced, more aggressive, more potent.
He growled, “Eddy,” halting him in his progress to the door. “How did you end up in Yellowknife, anyway?”
Eddy stayed where he was standing. The music had stopped and the noise of the party had fallen off for a moment. “It’s a long story, Harry.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
With mild contempt, “Is that right?”
A pause, and then Eddy deigned to give a cold sober account of his movements. About a year ago, he said, leaning against the wall, he was driving around one day, aimless and bored, and he came to a fork in the road. He was in Montana at the time. The sign had two arrows, one pointed north, the other south. He could have gone either way. But the singer on the radio was Neil Young, so he turned north, and then he decided he might as well follow the road until it ran out, which it finally did on the north shore of Great Slave Lake.
“Are you always so impulsive?” asked Dido, who by now had joined them.
“Try decisive,” Eddy replied.
“So what was Neil Young singing?” she persisted with a faint smile.
Harry, through the pain in his heart, saw exactly what he was up against. Eddy had no sense of humour, and Dido, serious Dido, didn’t care. European to the core, she’d fallen for the lean, sardonic, tight-lipped cowboy in jeans.
Eddy flipped through Harry’s records—then dropped the needle directly onto the first note of “Helpless.”
After that Dido stopped giving Eddy a hard time, she yeilded her rights to tormenting him. And Harry, watching the play of feeling on her face, understood the power of a song to advance a man in a woman’s heart. Songs, he thought, were the seven-league boots of romance.
We share ourselves in almost imperceptible ways. A favoured greeting or a traditional goodbye. A list of words we whisper to each other late at night to find comfort. The tuning of a radio, finding something familiar, something that reminds us of how far we have come and the place from which we started. The songs we share with each other or the ones we keep for ourselves. That we listen to on our own, in our own little bubble, as our significant other putters around in determined silence. It’s like a going out of business sale for a relationship; the removal of shared music. Always followed by a lack of words. The first time he says “I love you” and you pretend you didn’t hear. The ache in your chest as you display your palms to the sky, empty. I’m sorry, baby, we’ve got nothing left.
I have never been so disappointed by a book in such a long time. This is a book that I would have not normally picked up for a purchase, but it was on a special offer in the supermarket so I did. And despite the title I feel that nothing to lose doesn’t go far enough.
This is the latest (or if not the latest, then a very recent) Jack Reacher novel. For my and other newcomers, Jack Reacher is an ex-soldier who is the star of a series of Lee Child thrillers.
In ‘Nothing To Lose’ he is travelling across the US in a diagonal direction from NE to SW and comes across the town of Hope. 17 miles down the road is Despair (see what the author did there?), and the two could not be more different.
Hope is a Pleasantville type of place, with no crime, lots of sunshine and a feeling of comfort and warmth. Despair is a Fearville type of place, with no crime (because the Sheriffs rule with fear), lots of sunshine and the knowledge that it is a steel-making company town.
Our hero, who seems to either walk everywhere or borrow the local (female) deputy’s truck seems to have no other motivation than ‘keep moving forwards’. I was not convinced at all by the reasoning for him to keep investigating murders and goings on in this desparate town. If all I had was a ‘keep moving forwards’ mentality, I’d have headed off into the sunset and left all Despair’s troubles behind me.
This is not a book that I have even finished yet. I’m about halfway through at the moment, and though it maybe unfair to criticise without having read the whole book, I believe I can make a fair assumption of how it’s all going to finish. I have experienced this once before with some of the late-middle Scarpetta books where soap opera took over from plot, but without having read other Lee Childs I can’t make any comment on that. Overall, I am thoroughly disappointed with Nothing to Lose. I hope that I am inspired to read another Jack Reacher novel, but on this outing I think it will be a while.
Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire
When I was in my early twenties, I was slightly obsessed with the Wizard of Oz books, specifically the original series – the ones written by L Frank Baum, not the later, non-canonical texts. I have the centennial edition, the pop-up and the subsequent 13 sequels. I even read Was, which I’d recommend avoiding if you were considering it (the Dorothy element of the novel tells how Baum taught a nasty girl called Dorothy who was being sexually abused by Uncle Henry and Aunt Em so wrote her into the story as a happy nice child. The other elements were good but that thread made me feel nauseated). I’m not really sure what prompted the fascination, it didn’t particularly relate to the film in any way, and it receded when I got into proper Fairy Stories whilst writing my dissertation. So this book was a very welcome addition to my collection when Cheryl gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago; and it was also very well remembered by her that I wanted it, given a passing comment in a bookshop some months earlier!
Sadly, once I’d read it, it became a slightly less welcome addition to my collection. I’m struggling to think of one scene that I enjoyed. The book is aspiring to provide a sympathetic backstory to the Wicked Witch of the West and opens with her parents having an argument about whether her father Frexspar, a local minister for the Unnamed God, should go and preach against the Clock of the Time Dragon when her mother Melena is so heavily pregnant. He insists on going and it attacked by angry locals who have been influenced by the Pfaithers who own the Clock – meanwhile Melena gives birth to a green baby with pointy pointy teeth who they call Elphaba. She then confesses to Nanny (I couldn’t tell if they were related or if that was just the woman’s name) that she isn’t sure if Frex is the father, because she regularly chews a narcotic leaf and can’t remember if she’d cheated on her huband or not. (It does transpire who the father is eventually, if you’re curious.) Within a few months of the birth, a traveller named Turtle Heart has moved in with the family and is enjoying the marital bed with Melena while Frex is out preaching. Once again, Melena is pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is. Once again, Melena gives birth to a weird-lookin’ baby – the Wicked Witch of the East. Fast-forward 15 years and Elphaba is attending the University in Shiz, rooming with an airheaded girl by the name of Galinda who doesn’t like to be called Glinda. She has grown into an iron-willed young woman with a pathological hatred of rain and is influenced by the passion of her Goat professor, Doctor Dillamond, into standing up for the rights of Animals (as opposed to animals) who are being forced into slavery for starving Munchkinlander famers.
You can't tell, but he's thinking about genetics at the moment
Maguire has created a whole universe for the land of Oz, giving each area of the land a different culture and set of religious beliefs and customs. It’s nigh on impossible to keep track of who believes in Unionism, Pfaith, Royalism or Lurlinism; whether the Gillikanese think they are superior to the Munchkinlanders or the Quadlings; what on earth all the random titles mean (Thropp Third Descending, Arduennas of Upland); or really why I should care. He has transformed the utopic landscape from the original into a hellish mid-industrial revolution mire, the yellow brick road is a bane to the taxpayers, as is the Oz-wide transit system that is apparently destroying Munchkin farmland. Meanwhile, the delicate swampland ecosystem in the Quadling part of Oz is being decimated by the Wizard’s hunt for rubies.
The problem with the world-building in Wicked is that the various religions and cultures make little-to-no sense without a person to associate them with and Maguire hops from one new character to another for the first 100 or so pages. Every time the plot starts to flow, he moves the story to another location, time or viewpoint, and even the people have erratic and variable characteristics. I suspect I would have given this an easier time in the review had I not found all of the characters so incredibly unlikeable. The world of Baum’s Oz is ripe for rewriting; he originally created it as a the first American fairy story and I don’t doubt that updating or expanding it could be fascinating and worthwhile. But the author only takes the negative parts of American history – the drought of the Thirties, slavery, McCarthyism – for his narrative. The witch seems less Wicked in the context of an evil world.
There are some interesting details, such as Elphaba’s name coming from the initials L.F.B (L Frank Baum), but on the whole the author’s revisionist look at Oz feels like it rips to shreds the innocent and sweet world from the original. It’s probably a bit more interesting in the stage version, but I doubt I’d ever go see it, because I really didn’t enjoy this at all.
