Jeffery Harvey

Just finished this book for the second time...my did I get much more out of it this time than when I was 17 years old!

Still continually amazed at the level to which Faulkner can immerse himself into a literary character. I made the comment in a book club that his treatment of Benjy, Quentin (son), and Jason was like an actor preparing for a movie role. There was very little, if any, stylistic carry-over from one section to the next, which made the reader feel like he/she was in the head of the individual narrating that particular section.

This time, I picked up more on the racial themes as well as the struggles states like Mississippi had in the generation following the Civil War. I especially liked how the part of the Compson family that tended to side with Jason (father) - i.e. Quentin (son), Caddy, and Quentin (C's daughter) - were ultimately set free from the deteriorating family through death or relocation. Jason (son) and Caroline (i.e. the Bascomb side) were left to continue deteriorating into obscurity. Benjy was simply caught in the middle with no choice but to watch it happen.

Again, great book. I would not change the five-star rating. My only qualm with it was the jarring transition to third person narration in the Dilsey section. I wish it would have stayed in first person...I just grew too attached to the first person upon this reading. Still, though, an excellent read and re-read.

Here was a book for which I liked the idea of reading much better than the actual novel. Goolrick gives us an account of Ralph Truitt, a turn of the century industrial tycoon from Wisconsin, and Catherine Land, the woman who answers Truitt's personal ad for a “reliable wife”. The back cover of the book promised intrigue and murder, ominously hinting that the “lonely Ralph Truitt had a plan of his own”. Sounds interesting, right?

Not really.

This book had all of the elements of a great one, and that's why I'm being a little hard on it now. There were flashes of brilliance; obviously Goolrick can write. Overall, though, for what could have been an in-depth, mind-bender type of thriller, perhaps even a top-notch psychological thriller, the reader is given page after page of laborious description for minimal action. It was almost 30 pages in before the first real action occurred.

Furthermore, the author teetered on spending too much time crafting the small details, but seemingly glossed right over the major events in the book. We learn in the matter of one page that Catherine and Antonio had jointly hatched the plot to kill Truitt. We learn in a matter of two sentences that Larson cut off his hand. Parts of the book read like a list poem when Goolrick tried to depict the thought of “things just happen”.

But then again, there were very eloquent sections that left the reader longing for that type of prose. The exchange between Catherine and Antonio at the end of Part II was straight out of a play - well written, easy to which to relate, and easy to visualize - indeed the reader could almost empathize with the characters at that point. (Thanks to Dave Brown for the “out of a play” idea.)

Goolrick dabbled with the theme of a sort of insanity thanks to the long Wisconsin winters. This theme could have added an interesting element to Truitt and Catherine's relationship. It could have provided a context for the horrible things that the characters were doing. Goolrick's theme of redemption and forgiveness is obviously present but made to feel so ordinary that the reader dismisses it as a potentially-central premise of the book. Perhaps the most successful theme is the pervasive power of love, even when one doesn't want to give in to it. Catherine's realization of her love for Truitt, built on the simplicity of daily companionship and comfort, is a nice contrast to the blinding love Truitt felt for Emilia, the maternal love Mrs. Larson felt for Truitt, and the intoxicating, passionate love Antonio came to feel for Catherine.

I wanted to like this book...I really did. I nominated it for my book club. I liked the cover, the feel of the book, the promise made by the back flap, the teaser quotes from the expert. But I just couldn't fall in love with the book.

In a sentence, I enjoyed this book, but for me, the hub-bub surrounding it wasn't warranted.

At a time when post-apocalyptic has become chic, it's not surprising that The Road would cross my path. The text is narrated well, and McCarthy struck a nice balance in his descriptions. I was appropriately “in” his world without having to be brow-beaten by flowery adjectives. With the writing, I appreciated the focus on a sense to orient the reader. I felt empathy for the main characters, and of course, I was glad to see the boy have a chance to soldier on.

The language effectively puts the reader on notice at times when the man and boy are alone, seemingly waiting for something to happen. McCarthy puts me on-guard, waiting for something to happen on the next page, just as the characters were waiting for something to befall them just around the next bend. While that was effective, it muted the action that did occur. The horror of knowing the people in the basement would be eaten - bland because the reader is the keyed up for the entire trip leading up to exploring that house. In this sense, art mirrors life (as any of us living through the Covid-19 pandemic can attest), but it put the book at a steady flat-line for me.

Overall, I'm glad I read this, and I'd recommend it for anyone who wants to build up their contemporary classic repertoire. When all is said and done, though, I just wanted a little more.

Thomas Hoover's The Zen Experience is a solid introduction to Zen as a spiritual practice. Candidly, it was much more history than I expected. The book focuses solely on Zen's beginnings and its evolution through China and into Japan. There is no discussion of the practice of Zen. As such, I am glad I have it as a resource for a baseline as I choose other selections on Zen.

Ever wonder what would happen if you threw Ian Fleming's James Bond, Dan Brown's Robert Langdon, and Steig Larsson's Mikael Blomkvist under one cover? Read Tom Cain's “The Accident Man” and you'll find out.

Tom Cain takes us on Samuel Carver's journey on one last hit that turns out to be Princess Diana. With the factual event as the backdrop, we're free to let the conspiracy theories run wild. Enter corrupt British spies, the Russian mafia, some greedy Frenchmen, etc. This book was, at times, predictable, at times, unexpected, altogether entertaining. The sexual tension between Alix and Carver is believable and the way that Cain depicts Carver's vulnerability is a welcome addition to the standard tough-guy spy character. And while I can certainly say that I enjoyed this one and that I would sometime entertain reading the subsequent Samuel Carver novels, I can't say that I was completely blown away.

The second half of the book definitely read much easier than the first half...such is the case in a novel with a number of characters.

I must also admit that this novel made me want to do a little research. I know shamefully little about the fall of Communism in the Soviet Union and eastern Europe and the subsequent formation of Russia and the Baltic states. While my wife knows a good deal about Diana's death, I do not and realized that I should at least understand the basics.

So, as a good friend (@Dave Brown) said in a recent post about this one, “It's a good story that makes us think, what more could you ask for in a summer read?”

~J.