Book review post
Dec. 21st, 2013 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
highlyeccentricThings read of late:
Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall: Wow. This was slow going at first, but increasingly more engaging as it went along - I was carrying it everywhere with my by the last few chapters.
The main thing this book did for me was drive home how little I know about Henry VIII's era, and especially, how little I know about the process by which the Church of England separated from the Catholic Church. It's the sort of thing I *think* I know, historian and anglican-watcher that I am; but I certainly don't know enough to historical error-spot in this book.
Something I loved about the book: the depth of characterisation in most of the peripheral characters, but especially in the women. Helen Barr, for instance, had more interest than her eventual husband Rafe. I was fascinated by the way both Anne and Katherine were characterised, and the depth of engagement with them. There was a little bit of author-character slipping in the narration somewhere where Thomas was mentally mocking people who think women have nothing interesting to say - I am pretty happy to think that's Hilary Mantel digging at her fellow authors as well as Thomas narking to himself about his peers.
Another thing I was quite keen on was the fact that the book took no 'sides' in the Catholic-Protestant conflict. However, I found Cromwell's religious characterisation very... difficult. Religion is far from his mind for most of the first part of the novel, and what engagement he does have with 'bible men' is... elided, never depicted, always offscreen. Why is that, I wonder? I found the choice to keep that secret from the reader as from the public... interesting. Effective, yes, but effective largely in giving the impression that Cromwell is a man who cares more about money than religion - and cares about religion just enough to justify taking sides, when it will simplify administration.
It makes him a religious reformer palatable to the modern reader, I guess. How Mantel is going to make plausible Cromwell's subsequent iconoclastic zeal and his instigation of various high-profile executions, given this soft-touch set up, I am uncertain. I almost wish we had a hardline protestant protagonist instead: I don't think I like my historical male protagonists too easily identified-with.
Brad Boney, The Nothingness of Ben: This was a pretty fun read! I bought it to push my emotional buttons, and it did, so ten points to that. I really like stories about unprepared dudes suddenly looking after kids, and this is a great one. Ben the uptight lawyer faces realistic parenting challenges, while juggling his new relationship with Travis the good-hearted mechanic. Ben's three brothers - especially the older two - are well-drawn characters, and one of my favourite things about this book is the number of times when teenage boys sit Ben down and talk some sense into him on matters as varied as family responsibility and the appropriate time to make great gestures of romantic dedication.
The biggest thing that bugged me was the fact that the book had no really deeply-engaged with female character. Travis' girlfriend appeared early on, with bonus 'oh hey, deaf character'; an aunt appeared early on and reappeared toward the resolution of the plot; eldest brother has a girlfriend who turns up occasionaly (most amusingly, when Ben has to talk to her parents about contraception); and the mother and sister of one of Ben's friends appear occasionally. But part of me wonders why Ben couldn't have been looking after two brothers and a sister - imagine his freak-out about having to parent a teenage girl! If I had the choice I'd have opted for the middle sibling - make the 'protect your gay brother' plot a lesbian sister plot, with added 'oh god i'm going to have to explain periods and shit' hilarity.
A small-scale good thing: the resolution of one small plot point, about schooling choices, landed firmly on 'public schooling is great, but your responsibility to your kids is to find them a supportive/safe environment, and if the public system is failing 'em private is a reasonable option'. This is a point of considerable personal relevance to me.
Another 'hrrm' thing: the book played lip-service to bisexuality, in the form of eldest brother spouting up-to-date facts, but as far as never-slept-with-a-man Travis is concerned, it's all about 'the gay thing' etc. SIGH. I feel like if that's what he wanted to call it, sure, but I think Ben, faced with a partner new to queer things, did him a disservice by not making space for a bisexual identity. And ultimately that's the author's failing. *frowns at author*
Joanne Horniman, About a Girl: I think Clavicularity's inner seventeen year-old needs this book. Me, I'm... it gave me expat feels, which was partly what I was reading it for. I got really annoyed when the narration spoke of doing the HSC in Canberra, though. That's not how Canberra works!
I wasn't quite expecting to be hit in the mental health place with this, but the narration of the protagonist's depressive episode was vr realistic. The plot structure, too, beginning in medias res and filling in with flashbacks, works very well in this regard. Horniman has evidently structured this book very very carefully.
Someone else on goodreads called Flynn the 'ultimate manic pixie dreamgirl', and it's tempting to do the same, except... no, here's a character with ambitions, personal tragedy, and a crisis of sexuality. And our love-hungry protagonist has her HEAD TOO FAR UP HER OWN ARSE to engage with her supposed love at all.
I finished this book feeling glad that Anna had got her life back on track, but wishing that a cluebat had decended from the sky to punish her somehow for the 'if you have to choose you'll choose boys' pronouncement. I'd leave her too, after that! I'm glad she got her shit together, went back to her family, and made plans to move on. I just... think I would've preferred to be reading about Flynn all along.
Charlotte Perkins Gillman, The Yellow Wallpaper: Wooow that was an odd read. Poor wallpaper-lady and her trapped life, and boo, teh patriarchy. The narrative, ostensibly journalistic, resembles stream-of-conscious in many ways - I think 1892 is quite early for such a narrative style, although I'm no expert on modernist modes.
Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall: Wow. This was slow going at first, but increasingly more engaging as it went along - I was carrying it everywhere with my by the last few chapters.
The main thing this book did for me was drive home how little I know about Henry VIII's era, and especially, how little I know about the process by which the Church of England separated from the Catholic Church. It's the sort of thing I *think* I know, historian and anglican-watcher that I am; but I certainly don't know enough to historical error-spot in this book.
Something I loved about the book: the depth of characterisation in most of the peripheral characters, but especially in the women. Helen Barr, for instance, had more interest than her eventual husband Rafe. I was fascinated by the way both Anne and Katherine were characterised, and the depth of engagement with them. There was a little bit of author-character slipping in the narration somewhere where Thomas was mentally mocking people who think women have nothing interesting to say - I am pretty happy to think that's Hilary Mantel digging at her fellow authors as well as Thomas narking to himself about his peers.
Another thing I was quite keen on was the fact that the book took no 'sides' in the Catholic-Protestant conflict. However, I found Cromwell's religious characterisation very... difficult. Religion is far from his mind for most of the first part of the novel, and what engagement he does have with 'bible men' is... elided, never depicted, always offscreen. Why is that, I wonder? I found the choice to keep that secret from the reader as from the public... interesting. Effective, yes, but effective largely in giving the impression that Cromwell is a man who cares more about money than religion - and cares about religion just enough to justify taking sides, when it will simplify administration.
It makes him a religious reformer palatable to the modern reader, I guess. How Mantel is going to make plausible Cromwell's subsequent iconoclastic zeal and his instigation of various high-profile executions, given this soft-touch set up, I am uncertain. I almost wish we had a hardline protestant protagonist instead: I don't think I like my historical male protagonists too easily identified-with.
Brad Boney, The Nothingness of Ben: This was a pretty fun read! I bought it to push my emotional buttons, and it did, so ten points to that. I really like stories about unprepared dudes suddenly looking after kids, and this is a great one. Ben the uptight lawyer faces realistic parenting challenges, while juggling his new relationship with Travis the good-hearted mechanic. Ben's three brothers - especially the older two - are well-drawn characters, and one of my favourite things about this book is the number of times when teenage boys sit Ben down and talk some sense into him on matters as varied as family responsibility and the appropriate time to make great gestures of romantic dedication.
The biggest thing that bugged me was the fact that the book had no really deeply-engaged with female character. Travis' girlfriend appeared early on, with bonus 'oh hey, deaf character'; an aunt appeared early on and reappeared toward the resolution of the plot; eldest brother has a girlfriend who turns up occasionaly (most amusingly, when Ben has to talk to her parents about contraception); and the mother and sister of one of Ben's friends appear occasionally. But part of me wonders why Ben couldn't have been looking after two brothers and a sister - imagine his freak-out about having to parent a teenage girl! If I had the choice I'd have opted for the middle sibling - make the 'protect your gay brother' plot a lesbian sister plot, with added 'oh god i'm going to have to explain periods and shit' hilarity.
A small-scale good thing: the resolution of one small plot point, about schooling choices, landed firmly on 'public schooling is great, but your responsibility to your kids is to find them a supportive/safe environment, and if the public system is failing 'em private is a reasonable option'. This is a point of considerable personal relevance to me.
Another 'hrrm' thing: the book played lip-service to bisexuality, in the form of eldest brother spouting up-to-date facts, but as far as never-slept-with-a-man Travis is concerned, it's all about 'the gay thing' etc. SIGH. I feel like if that's what he wanted to call it, sure, but I think Ben, faced with a partner new to queer things, did him a disservice by not making space for a bisexual identity. And ultimately that's the author's failing. *frowns at author*
Joanne Horniman, About a Girl: I think Clavicularity's inner seventeen year-old needs this book. Me, I'm... it gave me expat feels, which was partly what I was reading it for. I got really annoyed when the narration spoke of doing the HSC in Canberra, though. That's not how Canberra works!
I wasn't quite expecting to be hit in the mental health place with this, but the narration of the protagonist's depressive episode was vr realistic. The plot structure, too, beginning in medias res and filling in with flashbacks, works very well in this regard. Horniman has evidently structured this book very very carefully.
Someone else on goodreads called Flynn the 'ultimate manic pixie dreamgirl', and it's tempting to do the same, except... no, here's a character with ambitions, personal tragedy, and a crisis of sexuality. And our love-hungry protagonist has her HEAD TOO FAR UP HER OWN ARSE to engage with her supposed love at all.
I finished this book feeling glad that Anna had got her life back on track, but wishing that a cluebat had decended from the sky to punish her somehow for the 'if you have to choose you'll choose boys' pronouncement. I'd leave her too, after that! I'm glad she got her shit together, went back to her family, and made plans to move on. I just... think I would've preferred to be reading about Flynn all along.
Charlotte Perkins Gillman, The Yellow Wallpaper: Wooow that was an odd read. Poor wallpaper-lady and her trapped life, and boo, teh patriarchy. The narrative, ostensibly journalistic, resembles stream-of-conscious in many ways - I think 1892 is quite early for such a narrative style, although I'm no expert on modernist modes.