I always forget how school absolutely annihilates my reading pace, reducing it to near nonexistence. I started this book -- Atonement by Ian McEwan -- in early August and got through it in tiny installments until last night.
It was superb. I particularly loved it in the summer when I could actually read chunks of it at once, whereas once the semester only let me squeeze in a few pages at a time, maybe every few weeks. So I forgot and reread a lot, exceedingly inefficiently. But I also think the beginning was better. McEwan is awesome at development and building the story up -- if he can do one thing (with plot and organization set aside), this guy can write.
I'm giving it an A-, but only to stay consistent: I've thus far been rating not only the book but also the reading experience for me personally. I think because it took so long, some parts of the novel just felt unnecessarily drawn out -- come to think of it, a large sector in the middle definitely dragged on, and would have even had I read it straight through.
I can't pinpoint anything right now. Sigh. It's Thanksgiving, and my brain isn't supposed to be working. Reviewing books is (ironically) really difficult for me, because I always feel like I need to justify myself about my feelings, but can't, really. This read is a fine one: the beginning is good, the ending is excellent, the middle is worth the time.
There was just an article in the New York Times -- "Your Cheatin' Listenin' Ways" by Andrew Adam Newman -- about audiobooks and the controversy around them. More than having anything to say about it, I thought I'd share the link because it pertains to this blog's general subject.
I posted my initial thoughts on audiobooks after listening to Water for Elephants a few months ago, and I have an even stronger opinion of them now. I don't buy into the idea that listening to books on tape (or CD, or iPods, or whatever) is necessarily "cheating."
Well. Now that I've got myself all worked up about it, I'm going to try to compile a list of my own, personal, pros and cons.
Pros
- Audiobooks are excellent for multitasking. For me, this usually means listening while a) shelving books for my job at the library, b) doing other solitary tasks involving hands, like cleaning, knitting and (hah!) "working out," or c) just walking around campus. The third one's really rare, because I hate the antisocial implications of someone walking around plugged in.
- They give you a feel for a book otherwise unattainable. (At this point in the list I realize that I'm probably not the best person to be making it, having listened to only one book. But whatever. Too late.) This is especially true -- I suppose, anyway -- if the narrator's a good one.
- All foreign, slash would-be foreign but really just intelligent words you don't know, are pronounced correctly.
- They're easy.
Cons
- As Mariam once pointed out to me, they lack the great, inimitable effect of real, tangible paper and ink. You can't flip through and read the table of contents and admire the cover when you're bored. And you can't go back and reread your favorite parts half as easily.
- For me, a big one is I can't write in them. I have a constant fear of forgetting things -- not just things, like dates and names, but thoughts, my own thoughts. It's why I have so many blogs and journals and a big part of why I take notes in books. For this reason, even though I have 11 more audiobooks to pick up from Audible, I have a really hard time deciding what books to listen to, because I'm afraid it'll have such a big impact that I'll regret not being able to annotate. I know. This con is nerdtastic lykwoah.
- They do encroach on the Imagination Territory a little. As I said before, not nearly so much as movies and other adaptations based on books, but still. Voices and accents count for something.
- When other people tell you they've listened to a book you spent hard-earned time and concentration actually reading, you get miffed. It's 'cause they're easy.
Uhh. So, I got pretty much nowhere with those lists, but whatever. Audiobooks are no replacement for "real" reading, but people who use them aren't cheaters. Guess what! All the words, printed or spoken, are the same. You're not necessarily any smarter for reading a book as opposed to listening to it; it just shows that you can read.
After all: in a perfect world, words, whether taken in by the ears or the eyes, should be processed the same way, so what's the difference?
I think the stigma surrounding audio-reading is basically just nostalgia. People don't like the idea of doing something so institutionalized, so dependable, in any other way. My own reservations about it have to do with this, as do, I'm pretty sure, most arguments attacking it.
This discussion excludes, of course, abridged books. That is a different topic altogether and yo, I'm not in the mood. :)
What's your stance on audiobooks?
1. One book that changed your life: Such a toughie. I've already answered this question once (1984 by George Orwell); this time around, I'll go with The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. I've been meaning to reread this for a long time; when I do, I'll write more about it.
2. One book that you’ve read more than once: Among others, Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine. One of the favorites of my childhood.
3. One book you’d want on a desert island: Probably the Qur'an. And a journal.
4. One book that made you laugh: About a Boy by Nick Hornby. I started reading this book in the powerplant Barnes & Noble at the Inner Harbor in Baltimore, and then finished it in segments at various other bookstores over some months. The quote that I still remember, and will love forever:
Life took up so much time, so how could one work and, say, take a bath on the same day? He suspected that one or two people he knew were making some pretty unsavory short cuts.
5. One book that made you cry: They don't do it very often. I remember tearing up, though, when I read Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech in middle school.
6. One book that you wish you had written: What an interesting question. Probably the Harry Potter series; that imagination is not one to be cast aside. :)
7. One book that you wish had never been written: There are a lot of less-than-spectacular books out there, but none of them like, encroach on my personal living space. So I'm not pining for the extinction of anything.
8. One book you’re currently reading: A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn.
9. One book you’ve been meaning to read: Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.
10. One book you liked reading as a child? I was a big fan of Goodnight Moon. I had a huge board version that was like, as tall as I was, at three. And I could relate to it so completely!
Thanks E for the meme. :)
Most people feel comfortable in a large group of like-minded people. It's got a solidarity, like. You know the next person over is entertaining the same feelings -- in this case, feelings of indomitable excitement -- as you are.
Now that I type it out, same here, except not always. In the case of Harry Potter, for some reason, I feel threatened.
I don't know why, either. Maybe it's some complex I've got and should get rid of. I used to love it, after all: few people still remember this, but for two years of middle school I upkept a pretty extensive, mildly popular Harry Potter fansite. It was a Hogwarts simulation (and the Internet was full of 'em even then), complete with a Sorting Hat and accomodations for time-wasters galore. A good part of my childhood was spent online in those days, if not tending to the website or answering emails then writing in Harry Potter message boards and talking to their participants on AIM. It was quite, er, my life, back then.
Perhaps because of my once-great fandom involvement, perhaps entirely independently from it, I've found that my affection for Harry Potter has become more private than ever. (Not creepy.) Someone once told me that reading the books when they come out is only half the fun; she then equally enjoyed chewing them over with other fans, reading reviews and theories (will there be theories, now that it's over? ...what am I thinking, of course there will) for days afterwards. Not the case, for me. I love reading the books -- absolutely adore the experience -- but pretty much despise the aftermath. Most of my acquaintances know I like Harry Potter, and most of them do as well. And so an inevitable consequence during the month or so following a book (or movie) release is that there's no lack of conversation starters. And by no means do I speak generally! There are loads of people with whom I would gladly discuss the books for hours without getting bored.
For the most part, though, it seems that people don't understand the sport of it anymore. People talk about the books as if they just want to prove that they've read it, to share their opinions to prove that they're capable of making them. Those conversations -- the ones that stay within the confines of Small Talk, without delving into anything deeper -- often give me the feeling that I'm just hearing things be repeated, from other people's thoughts and online analyses. It's something that happens a lot -- with any insanely popular new movie, or book, or band. Maybe it's because Harry Potter hits home so hard that I'm particularly irritated by it. But it's no longer "cool" to say you're a fan of Harry Potter -- to some people, it never was -- no, now it's just proof of the fact that you're a sane, well-functioning human being.
That was far more rambley than I intended. :x Apologies.
Since I got home last Sunday, I read six books.
I won't, however, be posting my thoughts on them, and I don't expect to write much about the next one either.
Those lovable little leaflets, of course, are the ones that have changed pop culture forever over the last ten years.
(Did you know, all this time, I hadn't known they were only first published in 1997? I started reading The Sorcerer's Stone in fifth grade, 1998, but thought I was a lot later at coming to them, more like four or five years. Now that I think about it, I have no idea where I got this idea. Hm.)
I hadn't been planning on doing a full rereading until afterwards, but I was persuaded otherwise and rather pleased to discover that I still, in fact, possess "the 13-year-old megafan’s ability to inhale the book in a weekend" (NY Times).
It's a funny thing, rereading books. No matter how many times you've read them before, you still have that tiny sliver of hope that maybe, somehow, they'll turn out some other way. You're left just imagining the possibilities before the story's set in stone; how nice it would have been if Wormtail was killed in the Shrieking Shack and Sirius set free, or if the dementors had been prevented from kissing Barty Crouch, Jr. You know it won't happen, but it's nice to think about it anyway.
I was more conscious of than ever during my voyage of the possibility of sneaky, underhanded involvement of Dan Radcliffe, Emma Watson and all the rest. The first three books, for me, were untainted: with the exception of Mary Grandpré's illustrations (which, I might add, I'm a huge fan of), I was left to my own imagination thinking up all the characters' appearances. What surprises me, then, is that after so many years of having images of the actors who portray them ingrained into me, I can still remember those depictions. Not as clearly, maybe -- they're more like shadows, now -- but definitely enough not to imagine Rupert Grint instead of Ron Weasley (who, in my opinion, look nothing alike).
What really shocked me, though, was how incredibly little I remembered from the fifth and sixth books. I'd only read them once: the fifth, "inhaled" in the night after its release; the sixth, read at a considerably slower pace (three days) because I'd forced myself to. Neither left a very deep mark in my memory, because rereading them was almost like they were new. Sure, I remembered the big things -- the stuff you'd call spoilers -- but a lot of the time I was reading in suspense, not quite remembering what would happen next.
So that's it for now. I'm not big on plot theories, but I'll ramble a bit more before the book release. Sorry if you're, uh, not much of a Harry Potter fan.
A few months later, though, I was surprised to find not a pamphlet, but a book in the mail. It was an advanced copy of The Lost Painting by Jonathan Harr. (I haven't read that one yet.) Then, sometime last year, the same thing happened with Snow Flower & the Secret Fan (Lisa See). Seeing as I'm a big one to judge books by their covers, and this one was pretty aesthetically appealing, I actually read it.
I loved it so much that I was really excited about the next, and most recent, free book I received in the mail. I guess I figured that if The Virgin of Small Plains, by Nancy Pickard, was being sent to me like Snow Flower had, it was bound to be just as good. (It only occurred to me later that this probably has very little to do with it compared with the publishers' financial backing.)
It was a disappointment. I won't pretend it was boring -- it read extremely quickly and it was gripping, so I read it all in one night. The story is definitely interesting enough: it's about a 30-something, Abby Reynolds, born and brought up in Small Plains, Kansas -- the ultimate Midwest small town. She's still pretty distraught about her high school boyfriend (turns out to be the love of her life -- who would've thought?) who abandoned her years ago, the day after a teenage girl's dead body was found in a field. Mitch comes back in a shocking turn of events, and a lot of plot twists later, they solve the mystery.
Pickard did a pretty good job foolin' me -- I didn't figure out the culprit until close to the end. The thing is, though, she can't write. I spent a lot of that night wincing, and had I a theoretical desk, I would done a lot of theoretical headdesking. It reads like something written to entertain a middle schooler -- and I'm not talking about YA classics, either. C+.
I guess I was just expecting so much more out of the book. You can see multiple perspectives in the book, but it's not spread out evenly at all; I thought I'd really like reading something set in a small town, but it wasn't woven particularly effectively into the story.
It receives an A. It was fantastic. The writing style took a little getting used to; it was pretty different from the other things I'd been reading, and I certainly haven't read anything written from the point of view of Death before. It's full of little footnote-like notes, except they're embedded right into the text of the story.
I also hadn't read anything about such a young person in a while either. Liesel, the main character, is only 11 when the novel starts, and it only takes place within the next few years -- again, at the heart of the Second World War, this time in Himmel, a suburb of Munich. Her story's about book-stealing, but a lot more too.
I'm growing pretty fond of books set during of World War II. I want to read Catch-22 before the end of summer, and maybe look into some more...
When it comes to books, I'm a pack rat. I never know for sure what, exactly, I'll be in the mood for, feverish in the airplane's cabin, or sitting on vacation somewhere with nothing to do. And so I pack myself some variety, a small array of selections for me to call upon when the time comes. I almost always pack too much, and bring a few books back, a little more beat up than before but otherwise untouched.
Wasn't the case this time, though. Maybe because I had an uneventful visit, and had more reading time than usual, or maybe because once I got in the swing of reading again, I did it faster, I actually got through all the novels (4) I brought with me on my trip. I'm a slow reader, so I don't generally average one new book a week, especially while traveling. But it hasn't been summer for so long, either...
I started the first one, Suite Française, in Arlington, VA, at the end of a two-week-long adventure along the east coast traveling with/visiting friends from school. It was recommended highly by my dear friend Meg Schroth, who had to read it for her French class last semester. I read it through the three-day beach vaca with family in Delaware, and then on the plane to Bangladesh.
It was phenomenal. The book's about a series of characters -- of all shapes, sizes, and (very importantly) social classes -- that are faced with circumstances unlike any that they've known; that is, the invasion of Paris by Germany during World War II.
I really like books told from the viewpoints of different people. They usually end up being connected, somehow, in the end, and I love the feeling of a newly finished puzzle. For some reason -- I doubt they were my first experience with this style -- I always associate it with Tracy Chevalier, who writes a lot this way. That's definitely why I enjoy her books so much.
It has the distinct taste of an unfinished book, but if any case should be forgiven for it, it's this one. If you ever end up reading it, take the advice Meg gave me and, when you're finished, read the appendices and all the rest. I can't even begin the fathom how Némirovsky, who was deported to and killed in Auschwitz before she could finish, could have written one soft, quavering note* given her circumstances. Definitely hidden treasure. A.
*Fawkes inspired me on that one. It's not plagiarism, I swear!
Next up, something very different: Como agua para chocolate by Laura Esquivel. This is the first full-length, untranslated novel that I've read entirely in Spanish; I never quite made it through the translated Alice and all the stuff we were assigned in class were either short stories or never, ahem, read completely.
In terms of reading in Spanish, I learned a lot. I stupidly forgot to bring my dictionary with me, so the first couple of chapters were killers, but my aunt bought me a pocket-sized one soon enough. I like to think my vocabulary was boosted considerably, if only in the kitchen. I spent more time looking up cooking terms and ingredients than anything else; by the end, I'd decided it wasn't terribly important anyway and skipped a lot of the recipes.
The story itself receives a B+. Even without the linguistic benefits, it's worth reading. The only word I can think to describe it is, uh, strange. It's about Tita, the youngest daughter of woman who, following a long family tradition, forbids her at a young age to marry Pedro, her fawning sweetheart.
Pedro marries her sister instead, and then a lot of weird stuff happens. Seamlessly incorporated into the family's daily activities is magical realism, something I've always been rather fond of. The tale is spun in an unorthodox way, perhaps only unexpected because I'm not used to reading in another language.
On the other hand, I really realized, for once, how difficult translating must be. There were some phrases in Spanish that I couldn't even imagine construing the same way in English, without sounding hackneyed and out of place. I was also drawing from my experience with Suite Française (which was translated from French), in which there were a few things that I'm sure were mistranslated.
I read two more books in Bangladesh, but I'll review them later. And then, of course -- the obligatory Potter post. :)
It was a fun read, or listen, or whatever. The story is cute and touching, predictable and pleasantly surprising at the same time. The two narrators did a good job in their own characters (young and old Jacob) as well as those around them; it definitely set a different tone to the story than if I had been reading it myself.
An argument against audiobooks I've heard is that it takes away your control as a reader, your imagination's ability to shape and create characters the way it would if you were reading it on paper. The stance puts books on tape (the term seems so appropriate now, years after the tape itself is nearly defunct) under the same umbrella as movies based on books. While the inital remonstrance holds true, I disagree with the latter categorization, because I think audiobooks are really a lot closer to reading the books themselves. Sure, you eventually get used to the voices and accents of each character and shape your ideas around them, but still--at least for me--it's easy to visualize their words in your head and imagine the different ways it could have been done. Maybe it worked so well for this because a) it's my first audiobook, so I'm still not very used to it, and b) its storyline isn't so complicated that I have to focus on every detail with no room for contemplation. I don't know.
The grade: A-. A good light summer read, recommended.
Erk. It's been a while.
Not entirely my fault, though. My 2007 finished book list has thus far been nearly nonexistent; I barely have time to shower much less read for pleasure. And for school, I only read passages, whether by assignment or lack of determination. Here are the three I've read this semester.
I should've given this a post of its own earlier, but now that it's passed, there's hardly any need. I have a tradition. Every January, I read a Jane Austen book.
It happen kind of by accident: I read Pride and Prejudice the January of my sophomore year. Twelve months later, I'd picked up Sense and Sensibility, realized it, and decided to make it a habit. Last year, then, I read Persuasion, and for this one I decided on Emma.
I'm not going to try to be contrary and say I didn't enjoy a Jane Austen novel. Nope, I loved it. A+ for me.
Can't really think of anything else to say. I should really get in the habit of posting directly after finishing a book when my opinions are still fresh.
Next, A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine D'Engle. I'd bought a copy earlier this year when Meg S. recommended it to me; it was one of those books I'd always heard of as a kid but never read.
I read it on the flight home for spring break. It was engaging (a good airplane book) and very cute. Some parts bored me--and I don't know whether this is because I'm older than its target audience, or because I tend to get bored with extremely science-fiction-y novels, but those were insignificant; some I enjoyed so much I went back to read them over when I was done (just a few minutes before my second plane landed--talk about whew). Overall: A-.
Third, a book for school: Impro by Keith Johnstone. I read this for my Acting
Impro is not only about the improvisation craft and theater in general but I learned a lot about interaction as a whole; its chapter on Status talked about many examples of body language and positioning that convey "high" or "low" statuses; the Spontaneity and Masks chapters discussed putting yourself out there and getting in character; Narratives gave tips on storytelling and plot-developing. It was a worthwhile read, if a little slow and pretty dense at times. I especially liked it because afterwards we began (and continue still) implementing the ideas from the book in the class itself, in our improv games and exercises. It's fun, as always, but definitely a step up from the games we played before break. :)
I'm getting really excited for this summer, and having time to read again. Meg and I are setting up a long-distance book club of sorts; we want to read a few more children's books and maybe a couple of grown-up ones. I have plans of my own as well; other than Harry Potter (which is a given of the most natural sort), I want to read Catch-22 and maybe, if I decide I have enough time, re-try Les Misérables.
Neighborhood
Explore friends, family, friends & family, or entire neighborhood.
Recent Comments
-
songsaboutrainbows said:
[this is good]I have a hard time listening to audiobooks because I'm a very visually-oriented person. When I'm listening to something, I... read more
on On Audiobooks -
-- said:
[this is good]I love audiobooks. I've probably listened to three or four this year, and all for different reasons. 1. I have... read more
on On Audiobooks -
E said:
[this is good]I've always heard or read positive things about audiobooks. What difference does it make if someone reads or listens to... read more
on On Audiobooks -
Samah said:
No problem! I love that book. I read High Fidelity too, and I don't know if it was the book... read more
on Meme Time!
audiobooks are perfect for melinda's #3. nabeela [my sister] had to read heart of darkness for her summer reading as... read more
on On Audiobooks