The Knife of Never Letting Go - Patrick Ness

For those of you who are still twitter-free, or who were absent from their twitter for that ONE DAY in which I read The Knife of Never Letting Go, allow me to repeat myself. I loved this book so. hard. I wanted to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant and/or put a ring on it.
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And, I mean, there were so many things to hate about it. It's written in dialect! Subtle-like, but it's there IN THE FIRST PERSON, and if there's anything more irritating than reading dialect, I don't know it. But all the 'tho's and 'cuz's and 'izzent's actually added to the story and made it enveloping and real, instead of pissing me off or just being thrown in there like a garnish that no one eats, but that says Here, I made an effort.

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Also, the animals talk, and if that isn't just the stupidest thing I ever heard. But LIKE THE DIALECT, it is no gimmick. It is deeply entrenched and necessary, and more hilarious than not. I would not have silenced the animals for all the world.

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And then there's this one totally devastating moment that is SUCH a raging cliche if you say it out loud, very much the tragic equivalent of '...and then the princess married the prince the end,' but it damn well breaks your heart. If you do not shed hot, fat tears when this Thing happens, then we are quits, amigo.

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AND IT'S YA!! All you YA white knights are pelting me with I-told-you-so's, and you are so right. Because this is...I can't think of words. Un-stupid? Dis-obvious? Non-trying-too-hard?

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Why am I not summarizing plot for you? Because I am drunk on this book and having trouble arranging my thoughts into things that aren't cuss words.

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Ok, so Todd lives in a tiny settlement on some other planet, and something happened so that everyone can hear everyone else's thoughts all the time, and all the women are dead. Also, his dog talks. Also, he makes a discovery that sends him on a quest from which he can never return and which will guide him into becoming a man and see?!?! So cliche. But it is hella awesome and I'm not telling you anymore.

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Oh, except this: the ending = cliffhanger. Not a pansy-ass cliffhanger where the story wraps up nicely and then the last chapter throws in the obligatory wrench, but an honest-injun I-would-sell-a-kidney-to-find-out-what-happens-next-please-do-not-leave-us-here-in-this-abyss-where-we-cannot-find-you-Patrick-Ness cliffhanger. So, heads up.

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Now I must go and slather P Ness with bubble wrap so that he doesn't DIE before finishing the series.

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Also, nine and a half caterpillars. And that's lots.

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Second Opinions

Nymeth

Renay

HORRIBLE DARE CHALLENGE!!! *cackles*

Ok, given the lack of time any of us have to read all of the GOOD books on our tbr pile, it's time I read something (or 3 somethings) truly horrible, and made someone else do likewise. Why?

Because it's a dare!!! *cackles*

I, Raych the Raych, hereby dare you, T Y, to read three of the following books which I guarantee, on my honor as a book reviewer to be So. Bad.

CAN YOU HANDLE IT!??!?! *cackles*

1. Any of the Wideacre Trilogy. You are free to read Books 2 or 3 if I spoilered Book 1 for you. I'm assured they are equally trashilicious.

2. Any of the Baby-Sitters Club books. Really, any of them. Your review must include a detailed account of What Claudia Wore.

3. The Patmans of Sweet Valley High unless you can beg, borrow or steal a copy of All Night Long.

4. Freefall, by JoAnne Ross.

5. Daddy, which google assures me is the worst Danielle Steel.

6. Nerds Who Kill by Mark Richard Zubro

7. The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale, which I know was totally revolutionary when it came out, but when I remember how small-minded and mean it was, that sort of terrifies me.

You must read three-sevenths of this list by...we forgot to set an end date. But since this is a summer challenge, and 3 really isn't that many, I'm saying by September 21st.

DO YOU ACCEPT MY DARE!?!??!?!??!?!?!??! *cackles*

Swish: My Quest to Become the Gayest Person Ever - Joel Derfner

In addition to the many things I am a sucker for (mad relatives, overweight dogs dressed up as people, kettle corn), I am helpless in the face of superlatives. Also, titles with subtitles. Also, quests. Also, when Eva recommends things.

Ergo, it was ordained in the stars that I would read this thing, and I AM ENDEARED TO THE NINES!!!

Ok, so I don't even really know how to explain this to you. Joel Derfner took up knitting because it was SO GAY and also because his boyfriend just broke up with him and he needed something to do with his hands besides google him obsessively, and so he's telling you about how he took up knitting because this is his Great Gay Adventure, remember, but then somehow it ends up being about his relationship with his mom, who died of the Galloping Diabetes.

And then this one time he became a cheerleader despite never having cheer-led anything in the past AND being a full-fledged grown-up, and DUDEWHODOESTHESETHINGS!! And ha ha, cheerleading, and wheeeeee, hilarious self-deprication, and suddenly we're in the realm of mental illness and while it's still funny as hell, it's also sharp and dark and helpless.

And then one time he went to Camp Camp which is a super-gay summer camp, but for adults, and it's all blase and witty and failed panty-raids and SUPER GAY SUMMER CAMP FOR ADULTS, and then suddenly it becomes this piece about exclusion and acceptance and trust that's just so damned beautiful I could die.

And the whole thing is like this! (Cautionary Whale, the whole thing is also full of boys kissing.) It's SO amusing and SO clever and even while it's tickling your funny bones, it's ripping your heart out and making you ask tough questions.

And there's this bit in The Woman in White where Marian Halcombe (excellent Marian!) scoffs at the idea that all fat people are funny, as though being fat made you funny or being funny made you fat, but I have to ask: does being gay make you HILAROUS!?!?! I know, I'm totally basing this solely on Joel Derfner and David Sedaris and, like, three other people that I can't think of right now. But this leads me to my next question:

Is it totally offensive of me to say that? Would it still be totally offensive if Derfner said that? Because he keeps saying super-stereotypical things like 'If there had been a shred of doubt in anybody's mind that I was gay, my membership in the Charleston Young Musicians' Society should have removed it' and I get that he's hyperbolizing for entertainment's sake, and I have a weakness for hyperboles (add to list above) so I think he's a riot, but when lady-memoirists say similar stereotypical things like Blah blah blah I'm such a bitch I love shoes I treat my husband like dirt (I'm looking at you, Doreen Orion), it makes me want to spit rocks, because while I am also a lady, I do not do these lady-things and would hate for anyone to think that I did.

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SO! Eight and a half caterpillars, and also, what think you? Does it offend you when other people of your gender/race/sexual orientation/handedness speak for you?

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In which I merge my split-personalities

I forget sometimes that my Twittaccount and my blog aren't analogous, and that the things I post there aren't automatically conveyed to those of you who don't twit or who still can't find me here, so I forgot to mention that Colleen (who is HIlarious and whose lines I frequently want to steal and pass off as my own) interviewed me the other day. And then I squeed and then I died.

ALSO, thanks to the help flung my way (in the twittersphere! Is there ANYTHING it can't do?!?!?) you can now subscribe to me in the top right-hand corner, either by feedreader or by email. Also, unless I screw it up horribly, I should have some tasty new tabs atop the screen soon and then the bloggodesk will be less cluttered up with junk. Until I put up other junk.

Tender Morsels - Margo Lanagan

I love me some fairy tales, but I mostly love the ones like Chanticleer and Partalet that end with encompassing, emphatic lines like 'and so all were dead,' or batshit ones like The Mouse, the Bird and the Sausage which, ha ha what? Snow-White and Rose-Red has never been one of my favorites, lacking as it does conversational foodstuffs or a stirring Disney rendition, but it holds up well under a 425-page expansion.
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Which is what Tender Morsels is. I mean, obvs some poetic license has been taken to add those 425 extra pages, but it other ways it adheres so strictly to the original, and I'm kind of down with that.

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Onward and upward. Tender Morsels is an agony-sandwich. Horrible things happen at the beginning of the book, and horrible things happen at the end. I don't think any of us are disillusioned anymore about how...unsterile fairy tales are (the little mermaid spends the whole time walking around on sharp knives, and then she dies!) but Chapter One of Tender Morsels has a young couple dooooing eet in the hay, and Chapter Two has a man diddling his daughter. This is not a bedtime story.

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Ok, so Liga's dad is diddling her and she keeps getting knocked up and he keeps doing away with the foetusii and I'm only telling you all this because I ALMOST STOPPED READING and I know another few people almost did to, but her dad dies and we all heave a sigh of relief and Liga gets to keep her current baby. But then she gets gang-raped and pregnant again and then, I promise, the bad stuff is over (for a while).

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Because Liga is magicked to a non-place where nothing bad ever happens to anyone and there is never any mischief or hi-jinks and it's mad boring but safe as cotton balls and she raises her two girls in bucolic bliss.

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But as always with other worlds, there are perforations made, and seedy underbellies start creeping into Liga's Blandville and then there is tension!!!

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And Tender Morsels is very much like a traditional fairy tale in that Random Shit keeps happening, and new main characters crop up when many pages have already passed, and that old main characters will be SUDDENLY EATEN while much of the book still remains to the right.

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And you're getting closer to the end and starting to see Happily Ever Afters coming at you from all sides, but then oh noes, it is very late in the game and one of the characters has developed unhithertoforeseen powers! DO NOT DO ANYTHING UNTOWARD!!! But alas, powers must be used for good or for vengeance or for both.

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So things veer sharply off from the live-and-let-live ending that was warming more of my heart-cockles, and explOde in a fury of come-uppances. And I'm all for come-uppances, but somehow I feel that they are more harmful to give than to receive. Do unto others what has been done to you, etc. P.S. this is where the other horrible things happen.

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The general consensus (and by 'general' I mean between me, Eva and Stephanie) is that Tender Morsels takes some getting into. Like, 200 pages worth. But after that it barrels along nicely, and has the stones to peel the labels off not just HORRIBLE THINGS but the consequences of those horrible things.

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So! Eight caterpillars (because sometimes the writing was a little too I AM YE OLDE FAIRY TALE!! And nothing sticks in my craw like that sticks in my craw. Also, because while I liked it, I did not die with love for it. There are no tangibles for this).

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And I know you done read what I done read, so linkity link in the comments and let's do some swapping.

The Double - Jose Saramago

VCRs kind of freak me out already because sometimes you can watch a video on them and then your phone rings and then seven days later you die, right? So I read the back of The Double and it's all, Tertuliano watched a movie on his VCR and then went to bed and then in the middle of the night his VCR started playing the video again and Tertuliano's EXACT DOUBLE appeared on the screen. Eaugh!!!!

So that freaked me out for, like, eight seconds before I got to the part of the book where that allegedly happens and it doesn't happen. At least, not in that freaky-deaky second-tier horror film kind of way where the VCR spontaneously turns on and the double is staaaaaaaring into the roooooooom like he can seeeeeeeeeee you!

Because the double is just an actor, playing a bit part in this movie and looking EXACTLY like Tertuliano did five years ago, and zomg this movie is five years old. Incroyable!

And then about 200 pages go by wherein Tertuliano tries to solve this mystery in the most round-a-bout way possible and it's seriously boring as hell but it's that good kind of boring where you're sort of ok with reading it, and I'm not sure if I have brain damage in this area because I will forgive Saramago things I'd disembowel other authors for, like sentences that go on for half a page (frequently) and a complete lack of dialogue tags, or even line breaks between dialogue so that when a conversation goes on for more than two or three lines I have no idea who's talking, and how he's constantly addressing me, the reader, as though the action in the book were happening in real-time and he had to occupy me while Tertuliano drove his car home and had no real interesting thoughts. These are all stupid and irritating quirks, and I'm totally ok with them.

But to resume. Tertuliano eventually discovers both the name and the address of his double, and pseudo-stalks him. This is where it gets all soap-opera-y and where Saramago more than makes up for the previous lack of dramadramadrama. I am going to do the Spoiler Dance, but I will do so in white space so if you have no plans to read the book or don't care if I rain on your parade, Select-All this bastard and read on.

Ok, so he finds his double and the double is freaked out and kind of pissed that Tertuliano would bring this upon him so in revenge the double (who is sauntering into Evil Twin territory) goes to visit Tertuliano and is all, I just phoned up your fiancee who you neglected to tell about this whole situation and either you give me your clothes and ID and I go doink her OR I tell her what's what, and so Tertuliano hands over the clothes and ID but the double has to leave his clothes and ID at Tert's house so he can go doink the fiancee, so Tert dresses up as the double and goes to doink the double's wife and then while he's waiting the next day for the double to come home and see how he's been double-crossed (turbo-puns!) he gets the news that 'Tertuliano' and his fiancee were in a car accident AND ARE NOW DEEED! Get out of that, if you can.

So...whew. And ok, my feelings on Saramago are a mixed bag. Blindness was horrifyingly awesome. The Cave was really very good. The Double was totally brilliant, but there were points where I was all, Does this smack of magical realism? Am I hating it?

In the end, I feel that I can say with John Updike in a line I wish I'd written, '...he can bring any impossibility to life by hurling words at it.' Do you hear me, Saramago? It appears that I am your bitch, and will take anything that you toss into the litosphere. You may continue to bring it.

Eight caterpillars.

Don't Call Me A Crook! - Bob Moore

So, Bob Moore was a crook back in the 20s, except that he wasn't really a crook because 'a crook is a man who steals things from people, but I have only swiped things when I needed them, or when it would be wasteful to let slip an opportunity.' Which...I am unclear as to how this makes him not a crook. Like, I am not a sales clerk because a sales clerk sells things to people, and I only offer them things in exchange for money. Right?
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So these are Moore's memoirs of being a marine engineer when he couldn't get any less savory work, and he spends fifteen or so years running around beaning people over the head with wrenches and fleeing town without having collected his wages and accidentally getting married and getting people he doesn't like fired from their jobs and almost dying at every turn but never really being too concerned and I am SO AMUSED! Ludicrous things are happening, and there are almost no consequences!
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Because reading Moore's work is like listening to a boasty, unintentionally (maybe) hilarious child. But an astoundingly racist, misogynistic child the moral development of whom I am definitely not responsible for. So it's kind of fun.
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And I am going to go out on a limb just now, a limb with absolutely no basis in fact, and call this a hoax. I mean, probably there were people that were this anti-everyone-foreign-or-uterused in the 20s (that barbaric era), but when he says things like '"Yo-he-ho" they call, "Yo-he-ho." It is like the voice of China, only you do not like the voice of China when it comes through the window and keeps you awake at night' he sounds less like a person and more like a parody of a person, like the Ukranian fellow in Everything is Illuminated or pretty well everyone in Three Men in a Boat.
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So in three years when this turns out to have been written by some guy in his rec room (probably by the same guy who claims to have unearthed this thing from a public library and zinged it back out into circulation), you can say to yourself, What was the name of that girl back when who cried wolf on this thing? You know the one, had an itchy all-caps finger and a serious problem with irrelevant asides?
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Potential hi-jinks aside, I was totally blindsided by how campy and diverting Don't Call Me A Crook was. You will need a good hefty dose of Not Taking This Seriously to get through it, and if you are a woman or Chinese or a Chinese woman, you will have to take Ignoring Insults to the next level.
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So bad it's good. Thanks to Lisa Roe for l'entertainment.
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Seven caterpillars.
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Done you read what I done read? Let's swap spit links.