No, that's not the title of any book; rather, September has been a terribly unproductive reading month for me. I never like to abandon a book, yet this month I've managed to do that not once, not twice, but three times. Undoubtedly these books will haunt me and I will attempt to read them again, although I really shouldn't. In no particularly order, I present my failed readings:
Emma by Jane Austen
One of my least favorite books of all time is Pride and Prejudice. I can't fathom why I thought Emma would be any better, but I did, or at least thought I should confirm that it wasn't. I confirmed this pretty quickly, then continued reading out of stubbornness.Finally I could take no more.
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
A not-terribly-creative, yet moralizing story that involves time travel. Obviously I didn't do my homework before embarking on this one. At least I like Mark Twain. Did I mention that the free B&N Nook version included a completed garbled line of text every 4-5 pages? Given that one of my only failed books last year was Mark Twain's autobiography, I think there might be a lesson somewhere. He's either not as funny as I remember or I've read everything of his worth reading.
Losing It: In which an aging professor laments his shrinking brain...by William Ian Miller
The UM alumni magazine does not usually lead me astray. This time it failed me. In fairness, the book is exactly as the title suggests - the (whiny) lament of a professor unimpressed with the aging process. Given the title of the book, its subject matter, and the fact that Miller is a long-serving law professor who has taught Icelandic sagas (yes, really), I expected it to be verbose. Even so, nothing could have prepared me for Miller's ramblings. I paid good money for this book so I was determined to see it through...until I remembered the old "time is money" bit and decided my time was worth more than I had paid for the book. Mom, if you still want to read it after this ringing endorsement, I'll hook you up with my copy.
Fortunately, I'm deep into a James Bradley book I've had on my list for months and I'm soon to fly across the country, so there's hope yet I can salvage something this month!
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Royko in Love
For many years, my favorite feature in the mostly-lousy newspaper my parents subscribed to (in fairness it was the paper of record in the mostly lousy town we lived in), was the Mike Royko column. Earlier this year the University of Chicago Press offered Royko in Love as their free e-book of the month and I eagerly downloaded it, then forgot about it, finally reading it several months later.
The book is the compilation of love letters he wrote to his friend/girlfriend/fiancee/wife while he was stationed at the Air Force base in Washington state and she was home in Chicago. The best letter, unfortunately, is the very first one; the humor and observations on life give way, and quickly, to a series of 'I love you, I miss you, only-so-many-days till I see you' ramblings.
The book is the compilation of love letters he wrote to his friend/girlfriend/fiancee/wife while he was stationed at the Air Force base in Washington state and she was home in Chicago. The best letter, unfortunately, is the very first one; the humor and observations on life give way, and quickly, to a series of 'I love you, I miss you, only-so-many-days till I see you' ramblings.
Friday, September 7, 2012
1861: The Civil War Awakening
Oh my goodness, what a disappointment. I had been looking forward to reading 1861: The Civil War Awakening by Adam Goodheart for several months but it just didn't live up to what I hoped it would be. Mainly this is due to three factors:
1) The biggest factor is that the book ends on the eve of the first Battle of Manassas in July 1861. So really, the book should be called 1861: The First Six Months. I understand, I think, why Goodheart chose to end here - he has chosen to write not a military history, but instead simply to attempt to capture the zeitgeist of a nation on the brink of war. Still, I might not have anticipated the book so much had I known it would end before any of the real "action" began.
2) He devotes a tremendous amount of text to James Garfield. Now, Garfield is an interesting guy, but I'm afraid that compared to the portrait of Garfield Candice Millard paints in Destiny of the Republic, Goodheart's Garfield is longwinded and dull.
3) Not surprisingly, Abraham Lincoln is the book's protagonist. Yet, even Lincoln loses much of his eloquence in these pages. Moreover, his life story, especially his rise from poverty and struggles with depression also seems to receive short shrift. (Granted, this book is not about Lincoln, but about how the times made him and he the times, but I still felt these parts of his life could have been handled better.)
My disappointment comes, too, from the fact that the book started so strongly. The prologue is beautiful; I could picture the bundle of letters folded and faded and see the poof of dust released as the ribbon was untied for the first time in a century. In other places, too, 1861 is shot through with brilliance. The comparison of General Butler to the East German captain left holding the phone, literally, as a crowd of thousands pressed against the gates of Checkpoint Charlie in November 1989 is writing at its finest - from one era to the next we see small decisions, little ripples, that grow into tsunamis. Yet, in the end these examples were too few or too far between. Just as I'd become convinced, again, that this really was a good book, the prose would become flat and leaden. Of course, the last time I'd decided I liked the book, it ended abruptly a few pages later.
Whatever its strengths or weaknesses, 1861 does allow the reader to consider whether one would behave in the same manner as the gentleman - and one or two ladies - in this book. In most cases, the answer for me was no, but I believe that might have something to do with the benefit of 150 years of hindsight.
Two stars.
......
A week later I'm still thinking about this book, and how the lens of history changes great events of the times into small ones in history (ever heard of the Wide Awakes? or the St. Louis riots of 1861?) and small(ish) events into great ones.
1) The biggest factor is that the book ends on the eve of the first Battle of Manassas in July 1861. So really, the book should be called 1861: The First Six Months. I understand, I think, why Goodheart chose to end here - he has chosen to write not a military history, but instead simply to attempt to capture the zeitgeist of a nation on the brink of war. Still, I might not have anticipated the book so much had I known it would end before any of the real "action" began.
2) He devotes a tremendous amount of text to James Garfield. Now, Garfield is an interesting guy, but I'm afraid that compared to the portrait of Garfield Candice Millard paints in Destiny of the Republic, Goodheart's Garfield is longwinded and dull.
3) Not surprisingly, Abraham Lincoln is the book's protagonist. Yet, even Lincoln loses much of his eloquence in these pages. Moreover, his life story, especially his rise from poverty and struggles with depression also seems to receive short shrift. (Granted, this book is not about Lincoln, but about how the times made him and he the times, but I still felt these parts of his life could have been handled better.)
My disappointment comes, too, from the fact that the book started so strongly. The prologue is beautiful; I could picture the bundle of letters folded and faded and see the poof of dust released as the ribbon was untied for the first time in a century. In other places, too, 1861 is shot through with brilliance. The comparison of General Butler to the East German captain left holding the phone, literally, as a crowd of thousands pressed against the gates of Checkpoint Charlie in November 1989 is writing at its finest - from one era to the next we see small decisions, little ripples, that grow into tsunamis. Yet, in the end these examples were too few or too far between. Just as I'd become convinced, again, that this really was a good book, the prose would become flat and leaden. Of course, the last time I'd decided I liked the book, it ended abruptly a few pages later.
Whatever its strengths or weaknesses, 1861 does allow the reader to consider whether one would behave in the same manner as the gentleman - and one or two ladies - in this book. In most cases, the answer for me was no, but I believe that might have something to do with the benefit of 150 years of hindsight.
Two stars.
......
A week later I'm still thinking about this book, and how the lens of history changes great events of the times into small ones in history (ever heard of the Wide Awakes? or the St. Louis riots of 1861?) and small(ish) events into great ones.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)