Her Infinite Variety, by Louis Auchincloss (2000)
This may be a good book or even an excellent book, but I'm so tired of the plot I can hardly process the quality. It's about an ambitious woman who seizes her chances, climbs to power, uses her beauty to get men to do what she wants, and so on. She's poised, beautiful, manipulative, fashionable, thin--and she can't seem to find true love. She wonders if she is in fact able to love, if perhaps she's made wrong for love. A fine character study, but after reading a hundred such studies I could hardly keep my eyes open for another. I'll try another of the author's books, though: from the book jacket I get the idea I should have read something by him before now.
Mr. White's Confession, by Robert Clark (1998)
Many books fall into comfortable patterns. When I begin a mystery book, I know basically what to expect: the establishing of setting/characters, the committing of the crime, the gradual inching towards a solution. This book, however, has its own peculiar pattern, and if you try to read it with a classic pattern in mind you'll find yourself getting lost and frustrated. At first, for example, I found myself skimming through the lengthy and seemingly irrelevant journal entries by Herbert White: once it became apparent they had little to do with the solution of the mystery, I didn't see the point in spending time reading about his day, his religious reflections, his memory problems, his scenic journey, etc. Later I realized that although those entries serve no classic function in a classic mystery novel, this is not a classic mystery novel. The journal entries are to be read as journal entries, not as clues; perhaps you'll find them philosophically enlightening, perhaps pointlessly dull, but they're half the book so skipping them doesn't work. The other half may be about the crimes, or maybe not. Wesley Horner is a police lieutenant who first works to convict Herbert White and then to save him, but he has so little effect either way that perhaps his real story is something else: his dissolved family, his relationship with a 15-year-old girl, his consistently ineffective dealings with the tough people around him. Or perhaps not. I finished the last page with a feeling that I hadn't grasped the point or understood any of the characters, but that like it or not I would be spending the next few days mulling it over.
Remarkable Women of the Twentieth Century, by Kristen Golden and Barbara Findlen (1998)
With its large, squarish cover and appealing cream-and-skin-tones artwork, this book seemed a shoo-in for the Coffee Table Book genre. I expected to half-skim the book, reading only the "portraits" (the subtitle is "100 Portraits of Achievement") that caught my eye or were of women familiar to me. Books that force themselves to use a rounded/catchy number usually contain substantial filler to make the number come out right. Imagine my surprise when I found myself reading each and every essay with great interest, even when the woman involved was someone I'd never heard of who had accomplished things I wasn't interested in. The mini-biographies are compellingly written and the accompanying photos are appropriately chosen. Instead of rolling my eyes at "filler" selections, I found myself wondering if they couldn't have made the book longer if they'd included others: Mother Teresa, Hilary Clinton, Sandra Day O'Connor, Christa McAuliffe, and on and on. A great read--and it would look nice on a coffee table, too, perhaps with a potted plant.
The Country Cousin, by Louis Auchincloss (1978)
As promised in my review of Her Infinite Variety, above, I tried another book by Louis Auchincloss. My opinion remains the same: the writing is good or excellent, but the subject matter isn't interesting to me. I can recommend the author to anyone who likes novels about power and high society (and dissatisfaction/disillusionment with same) set in the 1930s.
To Cut a Long Story Short, by Jeffrey Archer (2000)
According to the book jacket, Jeffrey Archer is known for his surprise endings. After reading this collection of short stories I'd say he doesn't write surprise endings per se but certainly he gradually heightens the suspense until you want to know what happens. Usually it was clear what was going to happen, but the tension remained until the details fell into place. Sometimes, based on the anticipation of a surprise ending, I mistakenly expected something far more surprising and then had a let-down feeling. Once I adjusted my expectations, I thought the stories were good reading and I plan to read his other collections.
The Passion Dream Book, by Whitney Otto (1997)
It's not the author's fault I don't find it fascinating to read about The Artist's Mind, or that I'm not charmed by stories of star-crossed love. The problem with The Artist's Mind is that usually only the artist is interested in the inner workings of his/her own genius and struggle for self-expression; the problem with star-crossed love is that the author needs to work so hard to convince the reader that the love involved is anything out of the ordinary. While reading The Passion Dream Book, I was alternately bored by the lengthy descriptions of the art world and unimpressed by the lengthy hand-wringings about what should be done about the romance.
Asleep, by Banana Yoshimoto (1989)
You may find, as I did, that the theme of sleep is so strong in this book it's difficult to read without feeling like crawling into bed. The title story, about a woman who quits her job to accommodate her married boyfriend's schedule and then finds that she sleeps nearly 'round the clock, is the hardest to stay awake for. If you can keep your eyes open, the three stories are well worth reading.
Cause Celeb, by Helen Fielding (1994)
It seems impossible that a book could be about the horrors of starvation and disease in Africa and also be funny, and yet here is the book sitting right in front of me. I can hardly believe that a book can be so relentlessly researched and informative on the subjects of charitable organizations and relief workers and celebrity dos and still be entertainment fiction, and yet it was and it was. I laughed, I wanted to know what was going to happen, I looked forward to getting back to the book when I had to put it down, I loved the main character almost as much as the author's better known character Bridget Jones--and I was moved by the stories of conditions in third-world countries, not enough to get my shots and pack my snakebite boots but enough to feel like writing a check. I was a Helen Fielding fan already, but even readers who find the Bridget Jones books silly/pointless should give Cause Celeb a try.
Don't Tell Anyone, by Frederick Busch (2000)
I read thirteen of the seventeen short stories in this collection before I'd had enough: the stories are fascinating, but at the end of each one I thought, "Wait, I don't get it." Story after story I'd get deeply involved in figuring out what was going on, and then abruptly the story was over and I didn't know what I'd missed. This is a chronic problem I have with short stories, however (apparently I need plenty of pages before I can absorb a point), so if you don't find yourself running into this problem I can at least recommend the quality of writing and the high interest level of the plots. For example, in one story a family of three is dining out with a dead fourth member, and the restaurant owner has all his own issues with a dead ex-girlfriend and a doped-up waiter. In fact, that's another chronic problem I have with short stories: with particularly good authors who think of particularly good plots, it's frustrating to think that each story contains enough material for a whole book--and yet instead of the satisfaction of 300 pages, we get the skimpiness of 10 or 20. If I had my way, I'd want Frederick Busch to write seventeen books instead of seventeen stories, and use the extra room to spell everything out so there's no way I could miss it.
Beacham's Sourcebooks for Teaching Young Adult Fiction: Exploring Harry Potter, by Elizabeth D. Schafer (2000)
The plural "sourcebooks" might lead you to believe that this is a series; it is, but this is the first book in it and there aren't any others yet. The concept of the book is terrific: if children love the Harry Potter books, why not use the Harry Potter books as a teaching tool? The sourcebook, then, is for teachers, parents, librarians, and anyone else who might like to use a child's sudden interest in Harry Potter to teach the child a thing or two on related topics.
That's where it all falls flat, because the book is poorly written. It isn't just a matter of the style, which I found difficult to slog through since sentences didn't seem to flow into each other but rather just sat independently in little rows, but also of basic proofreading problems such as unparallel phrases and dangling participles and the same sentence printed in two consecutive paragraphs. It's as if they were in such a hurry to get the book out they didn't bother to screen authors or edit copy. Giving weight to this theory is that only four of the seven Harry Potter books have been released as of the publication of this book; it would have been far more appropriate to wait until all seven were published before writing a sourcebook on the series. Instead, practically every page refers you to the website where you're to go for more information as each new book is published. That's a little like publishing a dictionary that covers A-O and telling readers they need to go to a website if they want to look up anything between P and Z.
After struggling to read the first few chapters and getting frustrated with the style, the errors, and the endless space-filling repetitions reminiscent of a student trying to get a 2,000-word essay out of 500-word material, I skipped around to the parts that most interested me, such as the lists of characters at the back. The lists were badly organized or confusing, or again there would be that "unedited" feeling, such as when in a list of names there would suddenly be a job description, or when a character who was both a Muggle and a Relative would be listed only under Muggles. The sections on mythological and Biblical references can be described with one word: "reaching." For example, Harry Potter is like such-and-such a mythical character because the mythical character got confused and killed her own son, and Harry Potter is sometimes confused about what is the right thing to do. If all this wasn't bad enough, the book isn't even attractive: illustrations are of clip-art quality, and the "Not Approved by J.K. Rowling" label on the front cover gives the whole thing a Kitty Kelly feel.
Zelda's Cut, by Philippa Gregory (2000)
This peculiar novel begins as an exciting and delightful story of what happens when a 50ish straight-laced author of intellectually moral stories needs to make money fast and goes completely undercover to write a trashy sensational novel. Isobel doesn't just use a pen name, she also transforms her appearance and personality. With the help of her 30ish and possibly gay agent Troy, she ditches her cardigans and comfortable shoes and brown ponytail and puts on a yellow-blonde wig, gold high heels, a shocking pink designer suit--the works. She becomes a creature called Zelda and sashays around flashing her legs and expecting other people to bring her champagne. It's so cute, and we're happy for Isobel's discovery of another side of herself. Then, gradually, the plot deepens and darkens. At first it's just a few innocent things: just for fun, Isobel encourages Troy to try on the wig. Then Troy feels himself drawn more and more into Zelda's personality, and Isobel becomes more and more encouraging, until the point when both of them are dressed up as Zelda--and having an odd, passionate affair. Troy and Isobel both feel emotional and confused about the situation, leading to arguments such as who owns the right to be Zelda, and whether one of them can dress as Zelda without the other one's knowledge/participation. Before long, all the delight is gone and everyone is unhappy all the time. Meanwhile, Isobel's invalid husband has found a new lease on life, and his renewed spirits give Isobel even more role changes to make. As her world tips around wildly beneath her, she struggles to find a happy medium between her old unhappy existence and her new one. The ending seemed abrupt and unsatisfying--and yet, upon further consideration, probably correct for the story.