47. Beneath a Marble Sky by John Shors (2/12/2012 - 2/18/2012)
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It wasn't particularly deep, more of a romantic romp through the history of the Taj Mahal intermixed with the horrors of living in the 17th century in India. But that lack of depth is overshadowed by beautiful prose and, really, a simple and beautiful story.
The plot focuses on the life of Jahanara, the daughter of the famous lovers Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahan, who was the ruler of India at the time, and her relationship with Isa, the creator of the Taj Mahal. The story spans the death of Mumtaz Mahal, which inspired Shah Jahan to commission this gorgeous building, through the Taj Mahal's completion and the aftermath of Shah Jahan's death. The turbulence of the years after his reign are hinted at through the mysterious nature of endpieces of the novel, but the novel itself is quietly beautiful. Shors' prose is calm and simple, painting images in your mind that are almost as detailed as the Taj Mahal itself. Jahanara is a compelling female character, challenging the ideas of her time while dealing with constant threats due to her personal relationships with her husband, her lover, and her power-hungry brother.
The book is a love story overall, but it's not just the love story of Jahanara; it's the love story between Mumtaz and her husband, between her husband and the building of the Taj Mahal, and the love among a family that can't be together.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
46. Two Little Girls in Blue
46. Two Little Girls in Blue by Mary Higgins Clark (2/10/12 - 2/11/12)
Do not mistake the speed with which I read this book for enthusiasm. On the contrary: this book, while interesting, was stunningly poorly written, which allowed me to breeze right through it. I was pretty irritated by this book, especially since this author is a huge bestseller, so I definitely gave away some key plot points in this post -- you've been warned.
It's not that the content of the book was that bad -- the plot was fairly interesting, and involved enough that I wasn't sure of who the criminal mastermind was until the very end. Two twin girls are kidnapped, and while one is eventually returned alive, the other is claimed dead. However, she isn't -- the kidnappers have decided to keep her as their own kid. The girls can still communicate through 'twin talk,' and this ultimately helps the FBI and the parents understand that the other girl is still alive. Eventually, of course, this little girl is returned alive. (I would claim spoiler alert, but it's pretty obvious throughout the book that Clark isn't going to kill the second little girl.)
So: the plot sounds pretty good. But the conversational language of the book was completely stilted -- everyone talked like they were in Victorian England and would be kicked out of society for using contractions. And, even though two of the characters were three-year-olds, they still spoke in the exact same way as all of the adults. Clark isn't even a talented enough writer to consider the fact that a little kid will not speak in full sentences or perfect English, and she is certainly not a good enough writer to implement that fact in her book. In addition, in my personal opinion, there were a lot of religious overtones that I did not find either interesting or even slightly relevant to the plot of the book.
Plus, and it really irritates me when authors do this, the ending of the book is really cliche and preachy. It ends with everyone sitting in the family's living room, watching the reunited twins play, and the FBI agent starts thinking things like, "It's too bad all kidnapping cases don't have happy endings like this one." Frankly, that's too picture-perfect -- I don't want to read a book that paints a portrait of a perfect world. There is no such thing -- Clark totally ignores the potential for the second little girl to suffer from PTSD or flashbacks over how she was treated, or that the girls may never want to leave their home again, or that the mom is totally going to become so overprotective she never lets the girls do anything, ever. All of this is ignored in favor of "everything is perfect now, and too bad all kidnapped kids don't live." Really?!
I was so disappointed with this book. I don't think I'll ever touch a Mary Higgins Clark mystery ever again. As far as I'm concerned, this is just an example of why the title of "New York Times Bestseller" does absolutely NOT mean that the book is actually a quality read.
Do not mistake the speed with which I read this book for enthusiasm. On the contrary: this book, while interesting, was stunningly poorly written, which allowed me to breeze right through it. I was pretty irritated by this book, especially since this author is a huge bestseller, so I definitely gave away some key plot points in this post -- you've been warned.
It's not that the content of the book was that bad -- the plot was fairly interesting, and involved enough that I wasn't sure of who the criminal mastermind was until the very end. Two twin girls are kidnapped, and while one is eventually returned alive, the other is claimed dead. However, she isn't -- the kidnappers have decided to keep her as their own kid. The girls can still communicate through 'twin talk,' and this ultimately helps the FBI and the parents understand that the other girl is still alive. Eventually, of course, this little girl is returned alive. (I would claim spoiler alert, but it's pretty obvious throughout the book that Clark isn't going to kill the second little girl.)
So: the plot sounds pretty good. But the conversational language of the book was completely stilted -- everyone talked like they were in Victorian England and would be kicked out of society for using contractions. And, even though two of the characters were three-year-olds, they still spoke in the exact same way as all of the adults. Clark isn't even a talented enough writer to consider the fact that a little kid will not speak in full sentences or perfect English, and she is certainly not a good enough writer to implement that fact in her book. In addition, in my personal opinion, there were a lot of religious overtones that I did not find either interesting or even slightly relevant to the plot of the book.
Plus, and it really irritates me when authors do this, the ending of the book is really cliche and preachy. It ends with everyone sitting in the family's living room, watching the reunited twins play, and the FBI agent starts thinking things like, "It's too bad all kidnapping cases don't have happy endings like this one." Frankly, that's too picture-perfect -- I don't want to read a book that paints a portrait of a perfect world. There is no such thing -- Clark totally ignores the potential for the second little girl to suffer from PTSD or flashbacks over how she was treated, or that the girls may never want to leave their home again, or that the mom is totally going to become so overprotective she never lets the girls do anything, ever. All of this is ignored in favor of "everything is perfect now, and too bad all kidnapped kids don't live." Really?!
I was so disappointed with this book. I don't think I'll ever touch a Mary Higgins Clark mystery ever again. As far as I'm concerned, this is just an example of why the title of "New York Times Bestseller" does absolutely NOT mean that the book is actually a quality read.
45. The Bell Jar
45. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (2/3/12 -- 2/9/12)
Since I am familiar with Sylvia Plath's life story, I was expecting this book to be really depressing. After all, The Bell Jar is largely autobiographical, and Sylvia Plath suffered from major depression for years and finally killed herself when she was 30 by sticking her head in an oven.
But I think going into this book with that knowledge helped make it a lot less depressing. That's not to say that this story isn't difficult, emotionally, to read; Esther Greenwood, the main character, is gradually spiraling into a black hole of depression and this book chronicles her experiences, many of which are both totally realistic and shocking, and of course frightening in the accuracy of their description. I've read before that experts have recognized many diagnostic symptoms of schizophrenia in the works of Sylvia Plath, so even though she was never officially diagnosed, she was most likely writing from her own experience of this disorder.
The plot itself is not so important as is the character of Esther Greenwood. At first, she seems like a quiet, rather awkward young woman who is working on a scholarship job in New York. But as that job ends and she goes back to her life and home, as she gets turned down for jobs and classes she applied for, as she struggles to find a career that she will find emotionally satisfying, she fades. Before long, she is seeing things and having fits and ultimately tries to kill herself -- which ends up putting her into a mental hospital.
I don't want to give away the ending; the book is definitely worth reading. But there is something eerie about this book, especially for me as an aspiring writer. Writing is something that Esther loves and that she is reasonably good at; she can see the connections between things expanding in her mind's eye in a way that is startlingly familiar to a writer like me. So, even though I know I'm not depressed or anything else that she is, the mental impact of that is a little shocking.
Since I am familiar with Sylvia Plath's life story, I was expecting this book to be really depressing. After all, The Bell Jar is largely autobiographical, and Sylvia Plath suffered from major depression for years and finally killed herself when she was 30 by sticking her head in an oven.
But I think going into this book with that knowledge helped make it a lot less depressing. That's not to say that this story isn't difficult, emotionally, to read; Esther Greenwood, the main character, is gradually spiraling into a black hole of depression and this book chronicles her experiences, many of which are both totally realistic and shocking, and of course frightening in the accuracy of their description. I've read before that experts have recognized many diagnostic symptoms of schizophrenia in the works of Sylvia Plath, so even though she was never officially diagnosed, she was most likely writing from her own experience of this disorder.
The plot itself is not so important as is the character of Esther Greenwood. At first, she seems like a quiet, rather awkward young woman who is working on a scholarship job in New York. But as that job ends and she goes back to her life and home, as she gets turned down for jobs and classes she applied for, as she struggles to find a career that she will find emotionally satisfying, she fades. Before long, she is seeing things and having fits and ultimately tries to kill herself -- which ends up putting her into a mental hospital.
I don't want to give away the ending; the book is definitely worth reading. But there is something eerie about this book, especially for me as an aspiring writer. Writing is something that Esther loves and that she is reasonably good at; she can see the connections between things expanding in her mind's eye in a way that is startlingly familiar to a writer like me. So, even though I know I'm not depressed or anything else that she is, the mental impact of that is a little shocking.
43. The Last King of Scotland
43. The Last King of Scotland by Giles Foden (1/15/12 - 1/26/12)
I absolutely loved this book. Having been born in the late eighties, raised largely in the nineties, and having reached some level of self-awareness and world-awareness by the early 2000s, I knew nothing about Idi Amin Dada. (In all of the surprisingly many world history classes I've taken, contemporary African history never seems to be covered very well, if at all, so this book and the research I did while reading it were the first times I encountered the story of this Ugandan dictator.)
The book is written as Garrigan's reflections on his time in Africa from a far-distant future. The world of Nicholas Garrigan as he moves from the UK into the middle of nowhere in Uganda is totally, 100% believable at all times; the horrors he describes treating, the violence he witnesses, and the absolute absurdity of Amin Dada's rule are all perfectly written. Garrigan is a thoroughly likable character, and one whose desires to help the poor of Africa while still being pretty self-centered are extremely empathetic. After all, while I can't speak for everyone, I know that while I want to help people, I would have trouble adjusting to a living in a hut and working in a super dangerous disease-ridden hospital.
And even though some of the things he does are somewhat despicable, I still liked his character. The ultimate plot of the book is how Garrigan became and served as Amin's personal doctor for the final years of his regime. Garrigan is basically forced into this service; Amin was a dictator so obviously he is not easy to say "no" to, not if you wanted to live. So Garrigan becomes his doctor, treating a wide variety of real and imagined ailments in both the dictator and his family. But before too long, Amin's dictatorship starts to decay and Garrigan finds himself on the run from both Amin's personal vendetta against him and the Tanzanian forces that are trying to remove Amin from power.
I sincerely think that this may be one of the best books I've ever read. Garrigan is an incredibly empathetic character; even in the moments when I absolutely hated him, when I wanted to kick him, I still understood exactly why he was doing what he was doing and could feel how scared he was.
If you have any interest in African history -- and really, even if you don't -- read this book. It will blow you away.
I absolutely loved this book. Having been born in the late eighties, raised largely in the nineties, and having reached some level of self-awareness and world-awareness by the early 2000s, I knew nothing about Idi Amin Dada. (In all of the surprisingly many world history classes I've taken, contemporary African history never seems to be covered very well, if at all, so this book and the research I did while reading it were the first times I encountered the story of this Ugandan dictator.)
The book is written as Garrigan's reflections on his time in Africa from a far-distant future. The world of Nicholas Garrigan as he moves from the UK into the middle of nowhere in Uganda is totally, 100% believable at all times; the horrors he describes treating, the violence he witnesses, and the absolute absurdity of Amin Dada's rule are all perfectly written. Garrigan is a thoroughly likable character, and one whose desires to help the poor of Africa while still being pretty self-centered are extremely empathetic. After all, while I can't speak for everyone, I know that while I want to help people, I would have trouble adjusting to a living in a hut and working in a super dangerous disease-ridden hospital.
And even though some of the things he does are somewhat despicable, I still liked his character. The ultimate plot of the book is how Garrigan became and served as Amin's personal doctor for the final years of his regime. Garrigan is basically forced into this service; Amin was a dictator so obviously he is not easy to say "no" to, not if you wanted to live. So Garrigan becomes his doctor, treating a wide variety of real and imagined ailments in both the dictator and his family. But before too long, Amin's dictatorship starts to decay and Garrigan finds himself on the run from both Amin's personal vendetta against him and the Tanzanian forces that are trying to remove Amin from power.
I sincerely think that this may be one of the best books I've ever read. Garrigan is an incredibly empathetic character; even in the moments when I absolutely hated him, when I wanted to kick him, I still understood exactly why he was doing what he was doing and could feel how scared he was.
If you have any interest in African history -- and really, even if you don't -- read this book. It will blow you away.
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