Sick Puppy

In what I hope is my final installment of Catching up on posts that are two weeks late due to procrastination, I bring you a review of Carl Hiaasen's Sick Puppy. 

Best described as "an environmentally-focused mystery thriller," Sick Puppy follows Twilly Spree, an eco-terrorist hell bent on teaching those who would deface the planet "a lesson."  After Twilly begins to stalk a perpetually littering Florida lobbyist named Palmer Stoat, he becomes embroiled in a political affair that threatens the environmental integrity of a small island off the coast of Florida named Toad Island. 

With it's breezy prose, fast pace, and hilarious characters, Sick Puppy is, simply put, a riot.  It's an exercise in absurdity, as well - none of the characters are particularly likeable (except for a large black Labrador named Boodle), and the antics of these individuals rank from absurdly corrupt to corruptly absurd.  Everything that happens is fantastical...at yet not.

Hiaasen's writing is strongest when he's talking about politics.  There is no political agenda that gets any reprieve from him; he tackles corruption in politics, lobbyists, and yes, even environmental action.  Hiaasen is no fan of extremism, and therefore while Twilly is a fun character to watch, even if you agree with his politics, you cannot condone his actions.  Everyone in this book is fair game.  Hiaasen is merciless in his handling of politicians and political figures.  And that's what makes it fun. 

Now, Sick Puppy isn't revolutionary or world-shattering.  And that's okay.  It's a fun, easy, and quick read for when you have some downtime or just want a good laugh.  And if you like political intrigue, murder, and mystery, it's got it all here, too.  Either way, it's a good book, and hopefully, you'll enjoy it just as I did.

Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard

I missed yesterday's post, mostly because I was lazy, but also because I went to Zachary's, had a few Ace Pear Ciders and a slice of Pepperoni, and was pretty much done for the night (worth it). So I'm making it with a surprise Thursday posting! Whoot!

A little while ago, I read Switch, a nonfiction book I had purchased as part of my professional development. Being a grad student working for a large university, the title drew me in, mostly because I was interested to see if it could offer me any advice (or confidence) about working with a large department and making substantial, meaningful contributions.

Switch is a summary of the work of Chip and Dan Heath, two brothers who have studied large businesses and organizations and tried to create what is, in essence, a formula for enacting organizational change (in addition to familial and personal change).  

The book itself was pretty accessible - the writing was clear, and I did like the presentation of many examples and thought questions that allowed the reader to sort of 'quiz' themselves on how to change the presented situation. The examples were also encouraging to a grad like me - Chip and Dan provided plenty of scenarios where change was brought on by a lower-ranking employee. To be completely honest, it wasn't a mind-blowing text that instantly revolutionized my world, but it's simple advice is easy enough for me to implement (and I've been working to use their advice in every interaction I've had - when I've remembered to).  But, overall, it's a nice, fairly enjoyable read that helps pass the time, if nothing else.  Will it allow me to enact large-scale changes from my position next year?  Who knows?  I suppose only time will tell, but I will be referring to the book as the year goes on, to help me as a professional.

PREVIEW: hopefully, by Saturday, I'll be all caught up with reviewing books and then can get back to a regular schedule on Wednesday.  But it may not happen.  Because it's me.

-Alex

The Road

Firstly, an update - my blog has changed YET AGAIN. I was having technical difficulties with the other one, so I transferred to a new account with a slightly modified domain name. If you were following me before, please follow me again! I promise this is the last time!

Also, I missed Wednesday's post, due to helping my boyfriend move, and then I had car issues this week so I thought, "Screw it, I'll post it next Wednesday."

So, today's post is going to look at the next book on my list: Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

What is there to say about this book? Well, I can say with absolute certainty (forget 'certitude,' Anthony Weiner...) that this book is one of the most gripping I think I've ever read.  This was a book that got under my skin in a profoundly disturbing way.  Simply put, this was a book that was hard for me to read, yet even harder for me to put down.  I knew that when I started tearing up 10 pages in, I was in for a difficult read.

Set sometime after an unnamed apocalyptic cataclysm that has left the Earth rotting and decayed, a father and son make their way south to try and find some way of surviving along the coast.  The earth is entirely scorched, the wildlife and vegetation nothing more than dust.  The man and boy have to avoid "the bad guys," cults of ruthless cannibals who are constantly making their way down the road, looking for flesh.  There's hardly any food and water remaining, the days are always cold, and the world is covered in ash and darkness.  The only thing the two of them has is each other.

McCarthy's prose is at times breathtaking, though I personally think he relies a little too much on antiquated words; in a way, it forced me to brush up on my vocabulary, so not too bad, but annoying when you're trying to stay immersed.

Yet, the writing to the point, minimalist in form, which is appropriate for the style of the book - even quotation marks and apostrophes aren't included.  It's bare bones, and this is a style that I think really complements the overarching theme of the novel - when the world is ending, only the bare minimum exists. 

As for the content, there are times when the book is downright gruesome, with violent images and sometimes horrific passages.  Without giving anything away, I came to a point in the book where I had to put it down, because the visual imagery was just too awful for me to continue that I just couldn't go on.  I decided to go to bed, only to open the book 5 minutes later when I realized - "I can't go to sleep with that image in my brain. I have to keep going."

That was a common motif for me - I had to keep reading.  It was so bleak, so dreary, so hopeless, but I had to keep going because I needed to know something good was going to happen, and if it didn't, my heart would break.

There's very little that is happy about this book.  Time and time again, our protagonists are left hopeless, and at the back of my mind, I kept having niggling little thoughts that they weren't going to make it - that there was no way that anything good would happen. 

I was mostly right.  Within the last 10 pages of the book, I was bawling so hard I had to put the book down to compose myself.  There is a glimmer of hope in the end, but the weight of the oppressive sadness of the book is unrelenting.  After I finished, I could only think about all I had read and seen in my mind, and I was disturbed to the point of not sleeping that night.

I told my boyfriend this and he asked me, "Was it worth it?  If you could go back, would you still read it?"  At the time, I answered that, as far as literature goes, it's beautifully written.  And it is, and this is something that does help cushion the blow of the impact, I think.  McCarthy will include throw away lines references Joyce, Dickens, and other authors. Some people have criticized the book for this (along with stylistic choices), saying that the novel is pretentious or overwrought.  Maybe that is the case.  And that's okay.  But, I actually read it differently - as a sly reassurance.  Everything in the world is gone, but language, and more importantly, literature, still survives in these characters - civilization is gone, but narrative will live on, in some way.  McCarthy places a large emphasis on the fact that the father tells the boy stories - that's an important point.  As long as people still live, narrative still lives.  It's all very meta, I suppose.  At least, that was my take-away. 

But going back to the question, "Was it worth it?"  I thought a lot about this question.  In the end, I think what The Road does best is it provokes the critical thought: what would I do?  This is both a good and bad thing to contemplate.  What would I do if the world were utterly destroyed, and there was no hope left?  How would I manufacture hope?  Would I even be able to?  Would it be better to go on living in such a place, or not?  This is the question that kept me up for a week, that made this read so difficult for me.  How does one fathom the unfathomable?  Am I worse off for thinking about this topic?  I've been told, "it's not going to happen," in an attempt to be reassured.  But that isn't the point.  I think what the book's goal is to get you to think about humanity - your humanity, to be more specific.  What lengths would go to in order to survive in such situation?

Do I recommend The Road?  From a literary standpoint, yes.  I think its themes, its style, its characters are all important to read.  Even for those who don't like it, I think it's important to analyze.  From a personal standpoint, I think this is a book that people should read, yes, but they have to be prepared to really ask themselves the hard questions after they do.

As for me, I can't say I enjoyed the book so much as others.  But I do think that it's had a profound effect on me, and I think it's just as valuable to read books that make you contemplate yourself and your life choices.  To contemplate what it means to "live" and to be "humane."  It's a book that I know will probably haunt me for a very long time.

The (non-)power of Persuasion

At the beginning of my summer break, I picked up the first book I could find and just began reading. That book was Jane Austen's Persuasion.  So here I am, using my first real blog post to review Persuasion and attempting to persuade you to continue reading my blog (oh-ho, see what I did there?).

My edition of Persuasion includes an introduction by literary professor Susan Ostrov Weisser.  In it, she says: “Just as Jane Austen is the favorite author of many discerning readers, Persuasion is the most highly esteemed novel of many Austenites…[and] has often been seen as the thinking reader’s Pride and Prejudice.”

Well, that bruises my self-esteem.

Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite novels.  And to think, all this time, I’ve been enjoying the ‘non-thinker’ Austen novel.

I understand what Ms. Weisser is saying.  Persuasion is certainly different from Austen’s earlier novels.  It’s darker, more dreary, and misses out on that “light, bright, and sparkling” prose for which Pride and Prejudice is so famous (though Austen herself used that phrase as a pejorative).  That’s not to say it’s not an enjoyable read – its wit is certainly more cutting, more scathing, and at times more delicious than previous Austen novels.  But, the overall product just doesn’t seem as polished to me. And yes, I'm aware that this makes me a bad Austenite; don't worry, I'm working through this.

Persuasion was written before Austen’s death, and scholars believe she did not have the time to carefully revise her work as was her usual way before submitting for publication.  I can tell.  While Persuasion is a nice read, its pace is much slower than earlier works, and a lot of the action takes place off-page, so to speak. This makes for an anti-climactic read.

For those who have never read Persuasion, a brief summary is in order: Anne Elliot is the middle child of Sir Walter Elliot, a pompous, vain man whose self-perception of grandeur could span the Pacific ocean three times over.  With his equally vain daughter, Elizabeth, Sir Walter overspends his income, and is forced to undergo the degrading process of letting his manor out.  Walter and Elizabeth care little for Anne, who is just a sad middle child, and often forgotten by her family.  The youngest sister, Mary, rounds out the Elliot family, and everyone save for Anne is fodder for Austen’s biting critique of 19^th century English social class structure.

The reader learns that Anne was formerly engaged to a handsome Captain Wentworth.  The engagement was broken off, however, after Anne was persuaded by good family friend Lady Russell that Wentworth was too poor for Anne to marry.  To cut a long summary short, eight years later, Anne still loves Wentworth and by chance, he comes back into her life.  The novel follows Anne as she navigates through dealing with these feelings and Wentworth's seeming lack of interest in her.

That summary doesn’t do the book justice, and I realize I'm leaving a lot out, but if you really want to know the whole of it, well, here you go. To say that it’s difficult to summarize succinctly because this is one of Austen’s more complex novels is apt – there are more characters and more strands of plot in Persuasion than any other Austen novel that I can recall. But let's look at the crux of the novel, the driving force of the narrative: Anne's relationship with Wentworth.

Simply put, Persuasion’s biggest flaw is its romance – unlike Darcy and Elizabeth, or Emma and George Knightley, Anne and Wentworth hardly interact in the text.  Austen doesn’t devote much dialogue for them to share, instead having an omniscient narrator summarize what they say to one another.  There’s no pop, no sizzle – it’s just boring.

Furthermore, the reader never really gets to know Wentworth.  We learn that he’s now a self-made rich man, and very kind and gentlemanly and all that jazz.  But we don’t see his passions, his interests, even his faults.  He’s like a shiny Ken doll that we have to take for granted is totally awesome and a perfect fit for our Barbie even though we’re not allowed to take him out of the box.  Wentworth just isn't as well rounded or interesting as previous Austen heroes.

This really weakens the romance, and the book.  What we know of Wentworth comes primarily from Anne.  When Anne realizes Wentworth still loves her because he acts strangely when with her at an opera towards the end of the novel, we just have to take for granted that what Anne is saying is right – because we don’t know the character well enough to contradict her.  And when Wentworth and Anne finally do reconnect, not only is it two chapters before the end of the book, Austen devotes very little dialogue to the moment, and the result is unsatisfactory.

As a couple, Anne and Wentworth are just boring.  Which is a shame, because Anne is pretty awesome.  Anne is genteel and reserved and a far cry from Elizabeth Bennet, but she’s an endearing character.  The reader really does feel bad for Anne – she was convinced to break up with her fiancé, her family pretty much always ignores her or thinks her not worth mentioning, her fiancé comes back and seems to be totally uninterested in her, and she’s constantly used and abused.  She's not an unlikeable character, and that makes it all the more disappointing when her romance feels so lacking.

We know that Anne’s a very intelligent, well read woman, too; she quotes Byron like there’s none other.  Which makes it a shame that the most invigorated we see Anne is when she’s conversing with another male that’s not Wentworth, a Captain Benwick.  Anne isn’t a boring character – she just doesn’t really have chemistry with Wentworth.

Persuasion’s main villain, Mr. Elliot, Anne’s cousin, also lacks the sting of P&P's Wickham or Sense and Sensibility's Willoughby.  Like Wentworth, all of Mr. Elliot's villainy takes place outside of the text, and we never really feel repulsed by him.  We learn about his misdeeds through a third party, the unfortunate Mrs. Smith, but after this, he never really does anything on-screen that makes us loathe him.  What we do see, a letter from him disparaging the Elliot family - mainly the patriarch, Walter - would be worse if the reader were actually supposed to like Sir Walter.  As it stands, Sir Walter Elliot is a pompous ass, so while the reader understands that Anne is a good daughter and wants to defend her father against this attack, we kind of want to side with Mr. Elliot on this one.

However, the novel really shines when it focuses on its supporting cast.  Mary Elliot, the youngest sister, is a riot and Austen’s resident lady-ditz.  The amount of hysteria and sheer ridiculousness Mary exudes puts Mrs. Bennet to shame – it’s glorious.  Austen very effectively uses Mary, along with Walter and Elizabeth, to attack the upper-class and the conflated, overblown notions of superiority of the wealthy.

This is where the book is enjoyable.  Austen is clearly enjoying herself when she ruthlessly mocks the pseudo-nobility that is the Elliot clan.  And we do to.  At least, I did.  Unlike other novels, Austen firmly embraces the self-made middle class, and her social critique is spot on (and hilarious).  This is where Persuasion is worth reading.

Overall, I wouldn’t say Persuasion is bad – it's Austen’s attempt at a more mature and dark novel.  Perhaps if she had more time, the writing would be tighter, and the romance, more polished.  Perhaps, with time and a second read-through, I'll appreciate it more than I do now. As it stands, its decent, and at times even wonderful, but I’ll take my Pride and Prejudice and 'non-think' my way through it any day of the week.