Wilkinson88
This had a charm up to a certain point, attempting to recapture the FA Cup giant-killing magic or how a team from a tiny village known for its sugar beet farming pulled off the unthinkable and won the FA Cup. It would make one yearn for the days of men in sheepskin coats huddling together with their tweed caps and clutching a cup of Bovril in their hands, enduring a dismal 0-0 draw. Or as Carr points out, “ They bellowed disbelief at incompetence, cried scornfully to the grey heavens in godlike despair, clamoured angrily for revenge. For 20p, they did all this and were not held to account.” Eventually, the repetition of the humour became a bit grating, but I enjoyed what was there.
It reminded me of a Coen brothers film in how it explores the absurd reality we often find ourselves in, but it's also tinged with a sprinkle of sadness. The Logan brothers constantly reminded me of criminals from a Coen brothers film like Burn after reading. I don't completely love the conclusion to this, but I did appreciate how Brautigan successfully blended the varying tones and created something compelling. Looking forward to reading more of his stuff.
I really enjoyed the first part, with a good range of characters, atmosphere and setting adeptly established. Even a three-page story of creating a sign on the grounds outside the Hat Creek Cattle Company was entertaining. It's just a shame that the second part foregoes any continuation of character development and opts to introduce yet more characters, whose purpose - it turns out - is to simply run into the characters from the first part.
It works as a counterpoint to the over-romanticization of the wild wild West in examing the brutality and unforgiveness of the landscape that Gus, Call and many others encounter. Underneath it all, there isn't much of a plot, though. Much of the book seemed to consist of an expositional backstory where McMurty elected to describe a character's origins and thoughts in great detail at the expense of the story.
Also, that dern ending. I expected a much stronger conclusion than whatever that was!
Overly vigorous and mundane examination of John James Todd (Hey, three first names!) and his various encounters throughout life, from the battlefront in the trenches during world war 1 to his filmmaking attempts to make a nine-hour epic of Jean Jacques Rousseau's the new confessions culminating in him being a victim of McCarthyism. The biggest issue here is that Boyd assumes the reader has an intricate interest in Rousseau's life and the filmmaking techniques he used to make a grandeur epic, but in reality, this took up half the book for me. If I wanted to read about the making of a silent film epic, I would just read production stories of Napoleon (1927), which Boyd was clearly inspired by.
If John James Todd was a fascinating character, all the overwriting could be forgiven, but he isn't lacking the self-awareness you think might have come in abundance during his later years.
Boyd seems to adore writing fictional biographies about people, but based on my personal experiences with this one, I won't be rushing to read them anytime soon.
I'm a chionophile (Cold weather lover), so I was predisposed to like this anyway. Still, Vesaas enhances a reasonably familiar story with his lyrical description of the frost, icicles and snow that engulf this rural Norwegian village. Vesaas describes Unn's enchantment with the ice palace with such beauty that I'm giving this an extra star just for that. I think the character development lacked a bit, which disconnected me a little from the plot.
A heartwarming, sweet tale depicting long-lost summers on an island in Finland. The central theme is the poignant relationship between a grandmother and a small child, revealing the similarities and differences! between growing up and growing old. The story is an easy read, with little plot, but is rich in its descriptions of nature and, at times, is quite funny
I went in expecting a light read, and while I mostly got that, I also didn't expect a sometimes tender, delicate portrayal of a middle-aged man struggling to cope with the failure of a marriage and the death of his only child. A bit overstretched for the most part; however, there's a really good novella to 200-page story here, but certainly not a 350-page one.
An intimate look at a Shaquille O Neal sized human who spends his days working at a pants factory, selling hot dogs and communicating with Myrna, a New York beatnik friend? Not as funny as I was expecting; a sense of comedic repetition can drag the story down, but Toole does have things to say about capitalism, consumerism and race that ultimately make it more than just a laugh-out-loud type book.
I liked the Stone Diaries a lot, although I'm wondering is it because it's one of the only books I've read that creates a juxtaposition between reality and fiction. As the omniscient narrator, Daisy clarifies that her accounts of events are sometimes exaggerated and often unreliable throughout the novel. Usually, an autobiography is accurate in telling the truth about one's own life. However, throughout the book, presumably Daisy's autobiography, we see letters and monologues from other characters, varying and contradicting points of view, and each character's inner thoughts, which someone writing a typical autobiography could not know. I did admire how Shields portrayed this.
On the other hand, I felt a slight removal from the story, possibly because there was a bit of warmth missing in Daisy's life; every critical incident seemed to be one tragedy after another, or it ended in tears. The prose was beautifully written, but when the story is grim to the point of parody, then I became disinterested.
Lovely ending, though.
It does what it says on the tin, and for that, I find it very useful. Still, I wish Penguin classics would have taken a leaf out of the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die collection by including a small essay with each title and why they believe it was worth adding. It's pretty barebones, just having the A-Z of author and title.
I'll give it an extra star just for that, though, since it's reminded me that Goodreads desperately desperately needs a sort by option on lists created on the site though it likely won't happen anytime soon.
A thorough and compelling read about one of the NBA's greatest dynasties. What puts this book into the category of great sportswriting IMO is it focuses on some of the lesser-known names associated with Showtime, like Jack McKinney to even the draft busts like Billy Thompson. Showtime understandably gives the well known names of the 80's Lakers like Magic, Kareem, Riley, Buss and Worthy its fair share of attention, but it also excels in presenting insights and anecdotes from almost everyone associated with the organization over the period.
The only slight niggle is that I would have loved a little section on Chick Hearn, the voice of the Lakers and the demise of Showtime lacks considerable detail, but these are only slight issues in what is an excellent read.
Published in 1947 but is still completely relevant in today's society. The concept of a married couple owning a radio which allows them to overhear other people's conversations reminds me of the very nature of social media. Scrolling through a person's Facebook or Twitter feed, no matter how idealized they make their page, is similar voyeuristically.
Written in 1962 and semi-autobiographical, I have to give The Pumpkin Eater credit for a few things. It provides a pretty unique insight into the complexities of mental illness, marriage and the desire to find oneself. The protagonist Mrs. Armitage finds herself drifting through three marriages and an abundance of children before discovering her life has been enraptured by boredom and frustration, being slowly stifled by domesticity and colluding (sometimes quite happily, sometimes feeling she has no choice) in her own oppression. A affecting scene in Harrods where she has a nervous breakdown illustrates this perfectly.
However the book meanders and the last section of the book isn't as tightly written. It made me wish that Mortimer could have achieved the richness of a narrative like Mrs Bridge a book where it felt Connell perfectly captured what he was trying to say within 117 short vignettes. Apart from a few well done passages The Pumpkin Eater didn't have the emotional impact for me unfortunately.
Communication and the lack of it is, for me, the central theme of On Chesil Beach. The idea that Edward and Florence struggle to express their feelings to each other, afraid of the expectations ahead of their marriage, highlights the dangers of repressed emotions and poor communication, of how events and actions misinterpreted can have devastating consequences.
The prose is lyrically vivid, recounting Edward and Florence's miserable wedding night experience on a summer night in 1962. Florence's possible asexuality is a distinct contrast to Edward's desire to have an immediate sexual relationship. It is ultimately challenging to read since we know from the offset their relationship probably won't work.
Where I think On the Chesil Beach falters a little is the last section. The reader gets a good sense of Edward's later ruminations on the relationship, where he felt it went wrong and his own life. There is nothing from Florence's perspective contributing to my personal feeling that the ending felt rushed. McEwan could have expanded on parts of the story. Was Florence possibly asexual, or was there a hint of sexual abuse from her Dad? It was a bit disappointing this was never properly clarified.
A good read but not a great one.
Thematically there's a lot to unpack here, including gender roles, writer's creativity and sexuality. Tonally it is a little all over the place, sometimes struggling to make a smooth transition between absurdity and tragedy. Yet the book is an interesting character study on Garp himself, showing how life events can change a person like his son Walt's death. The story is ambitious, showing a person's story from conception to death. Irving has cited his admiration for Dickens before, and I can definitely see the narrative parallels.
It didn't always work for me, but after reading 30% of Hotel New Hampshire and finding it insufferable, not to mention A prayer for Owen Meaney was largely dull in its execution, meaning Garp is probably my favourite of Irvings so far.
