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shadowkat[I changed my default icon -- it is the three-headed dragon that I drew last year, that I made hot pink. Because...I think dragons, particularly my dragons, should be hot pink. I mean, why not?]
In the past two years, I have read over a million book reviews, and written a scant 100 or so. I like reading reviews, always have, whether they be book, film or television.
There's an odd thrill to looking a work of art through the eyes of someone else. Used to read Publisher's Weekly, Library Journal, New York Review of Books, The Times Book Review, and various others cover to cover. And I remember picking up Premiere Magazine for the film reviews.
With the internet, I tend to read Amazon, Good Reads, Smartbitches.com, and various livejournal book review posts.
But here's the problem with reviews -- regardless of what they are for, they tend to tell you more about the reviewer than the product, book, film, television show, or item being reviewed. I know, I was recently scanning reviews of air conditioners in order to buy an air conditioner. Every product had about four or five reviews. And no matter what it was -- it had at least two horrible reviews from dissatisfied customers. One reviewer stated that the air conditioner was "too loud" and didn't cool things at all.
While five other reviewers said the exact opposite - that it was quiet, and cooled their entire apartment. Who to believe? Eeny-Meeny-Miney-Moe. I found myself critically analyzing the reviews. I decided if the review ratio was three positive reviews (ie. 4-5 stars) vs. one negative review. I'd ignore the negative review. Most likely a fluke or bad luck. And I think we can all agree that air conditioners aren't necessarily something you'd review subjectively. There's objective criteria. Facts. Figures. They either cool down the room or they don't. How loud they are -- now that might be a bit subjective.
Books, on the other hand - there's really no objective criteria available. You can't even use technique, writing style, or grammar. Mainly because - the English language is tricky. Not helped by slang, and in fiction - you can break certain rules for a more conversational style. (Like I'm doing now. It's deliberate. I'm breaking all sorts of rules by design. Probably annoying the beejesus out of the folks who have English as a second language and learned "text-book" English. I feel for you. I learned text-book French in high school and found myself in the middle of Bretagne, where they did not speak text-book French (actually does anyone outside of American high school students?), and was a bit lost.)
So when people write book reviews...they often tell you more about themselves as a reader than they may intend to. For example? "It was an amazing book. I read it in one sitting." Okay, they probably skimmed half of it. Not necessarily that amazing. And a page-turner. Didn't require too much attention. Or time. "It was a long book, beautifully written, but took too long to read." This reviewer prefers quick reads. They don't want to spend too much time on one book. "This book was overly detailed. Too many descriptions. Wordy. The writer is clearly a recluse and paid to type. I was bored." The reader struggled with the style, possibly dislikes long sentences and prefers short ones. Might be a fan of a more simplistic or minimalistic writing style. Does it tell you whether you want to read the book? Probably not. Because your idea of overly detailed or wordy, is not necessarily the same as mine.
Television is similar. A lot of people viewed Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a cheesy teenage gothic soap opera with little value outside of that. I'm not saying they are wrong or right for that matter, just that this is one perspective in a multitude of possibilities. Others, saw the series as a meaty meta-philosophical discourse on adolescence and growing up that subverted various gender and genre stereotypes.
What you brought into the series as a watcher, was in the end what you took out of it.
It wasn't going to be the same for everyone.
Below follows a series of book reviews that I randomly selected from Amazon and Good Reads from amateur reviewers. I post the negative or one star review above the five star review. In each review, we learn more about the reader's preferences, how they read, what intrigues them, than we learn about the book. Making book reviews in of themselves highly unreliable ways to choose what to read next.
1)
Neil Gaiman's Ocean at the End of the Lane:
The negative review:
I don't get it. This is a book that 10-15 year olds MIGHT enjoy, except for one too-adult scene, so you wouldn't give it to them. But other than that, it's good against evil, childhood innocence against adult cluelessness or corruption, and a bunch of one-dimensional supernatural beings. There are some poetic and touching passages, but I still can't give it more than 1 star . I wouldn't have finished this book if it wasn't so short.
The positive review:
When I was a little girl, I loved my world. I loved the fresh gingerbread the Mrs Piper, old lady down the street, would serve to neighborhood children who came to see the train she set up in her house at Christmas-time. I loved the sun-warmed feel of my brother's broad shoulders, when he carried me piggy back, or the combination smell of starch and cigar that haunted my father's shirts when he hugged me. I loved the sound of a saxophone, when my other brother was practicing, or the way my mother, curled up with a book and a bowl of polly seeds* would scooch over so I could nestle in at her side, cracking the black and white shells for the seed inside.
I love my world now, too. And I love the world Neil Gaiman created in The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
I'd read that this book started as a short story, and couldn't be stopped. It grew. And it grew into a wonderful tale. Some of it, I feel sure, has deep roots in Gaiman's own childhood. The descriptions ring so true. And while I've heard him talk of his childhood, he's not necessarily mentioned magic, but undoubtedly that was present, for is there not a little magic everywhere, for those who care to look? This is a fairy tale -- not the sanitized, politically correct ones that are circulating today, but a real one, with good and bad, hope and fear, monsters and Hempstocks. Yes, Hemstocks. Lizzie Hempstock, who may, or may not be eleven, her mother, and Old Lady Hempstock, who remembers when the moon was made. And these Hempstocks may be distantly related to Daisy Hempstock in Stardust and Liza Hempstock in The Graveyard Book, or so says neilhimself (though in his blog, not twitter.)
I happily immersed myself in this small volume, delighted to be reading my favorite author again, his first adult book in ages, while also begging myself to slow down, because the next book, adult or children's, may be a long time coming. But I couldn't help myself. I gobbled it up, and sighed with contentment. He did it again. A wonderful, scrumptious book. The man is an artist, a magician, a teller-of-tales, and if all the accounts I've heard are right, he's altruistic and a truly decent man.
I think I love Neil Gaiman even more than Mrs Piper's gingerbread. And that's saying a whole lot.
Read the book.
Note - the first reader was alienated by the fairy tale aspect of the novel, and in particular the writing style and the lack of a clear tight plot. They felt it was cliche and lacked depth. A children's novel, little more. The second reader - was charmed by the fairy tale aspect, related to the characters, and adored the writing style. They felt it was an adult novel with deep meaning and gobbled it up.
2)
The controversial 50 Shades of Grey by EL James from Amazon:
Negative Review:
I downloaded the book to my Kindle because it was on the best seller list and had 4 stars overall rating on Amazon. I wish I'd taken the time to read some of the reviews. As it turns out I agree with the negative.
I found myself thinking "Twilight, plus some spanking, minus the sparkly vampires." Here, I'll save you all some time (SPOILER ALERT):
Once upon a time...
I'm Ana. I'm clumsy and naive. I like books. I dig this guy. He couldn't possibly like me. He's rich. I wonder if he's gay? His eyes are gray. Super gray. Intensely gray. Intense AND gray. Serious and gray. Super gray. Dark and gray. [insert 100+ other ways to say "gray eyes" here]
I blush. I gasp. He touches me "down there." I gasp again. He gasps. We both gasp. I blush some more. I gasp some more. I refer to my genitals as "down there" a few more times. I blush some more. Sorry, I mean I "flush" some more. I bite my lip. He gasps a lot more. More gasping. More blushing/flushing. More lip biting. Still more gasping.
The end.
The bad:
It was an interesting concept - for a romance novel. However the story is weak, the pace is slow and awkward, the characters come through as more schizophrenic than complicated, the "romance" is a juvenile and dysfunctional crush, and the "erotic" scenes alternate between Penthouse Forum and something that sounds like it was written by a painfully shy and sheltered 13 year old. I have now read through some of the rave reviews and I have to assume that these were posted by people easily shocked and/or titillated. I can't imagine what fans are comparing this to when they describe this as "good."
The good:
Nice cover art.
Positive Review:
Okay one thing is clear about `50 shades of grey', you either love it or hate it. I read the book on impulse after a friend recommended it as `similar to twilight', so mind you I had no idea the book dealt with BDSM. My first reaction was `what the hell?!', I have to say it was clearly a surprise and not one I was entirely content with but 50-75 pages in why not continue?
So here it is, I gave the book a chance and found myself mesmerized by the relationship between Ana and Chris. I found potential in their relationship and the idea that Grey was a haunted soul. What women can resist the subliminal need to nurture a tortured soul? I tried to look beyond the BDSM and found myself getting more and more comfortable with their relationship. The chemistry between the characters is clear and charged with electricity, the explicit scenes often times made me blush.
The story continues to grow throughout the next two books which I already read as well, because quite frankly it's a fun read. If your reading the book its not for its literacy accuracy (for those who want literature read the Bronte or Austen novels) but for the sheer of reading something different that is romantic, erotic and funny all in one. Do I recommend the book? Yes, if your open minded about sex, relationships and willing to read it as fan fiction which is exactly what it was meant to be.
The first reader was put-off by the writing style and repetition. They also were a bit offended by the romantic coupling. Finding it silly juvenile and well, offensive. And could not understand how anyone could possibly like the book. The erotica aspect did not bother them, they just found the style atrocious. The second reader was charmed by the writing style and romantic coupling. The saving of a tortured soul aspect appealed to them. And while they found the sex scenes a bit off-putting, they were ultimately easy to overlook - because of the romance which hooked them from the start.
What we learn from both - is well, it depends on what you want in writing style. The second reader, somewhat defensively points out that this isn't literary -- if you want Bronte or Austen -- go read them. (Actually it's not even on par with Nora Roberts, Anne Rice, Sylvia Day, Courtney Milan and Danielle Steele...but let's not get nit-picky.) What's interesting about the 50 Shades reviews is a lot of reviewers assume that writing styles need to be uniform. That there is actually an objective criteria regarding a writing style that makes it good or bad. This is simply not true. (Forget what your stodgy English Lit teachers taught you. There are multiple writing styles, folks.] I learned this a long time ago - having read multiple writing styles and having written in multiple styles. My online style is nothing like my style at work, etc. Also, we all have our preferences - often, it is what we were taught or conditioned to prefer. The only objective criteria in regards to style - is: is it consistent, and does it fit the story, genre, and characters. Would the characters think and talk like this? For example a gritty urban character is not going to talk like Henry James, any more than a character in the 19th Century is going to talk and think like Nick Hornby or Helen Fielding or Stephen King.
50 Shades has a deliberate style. The writer is consistent throughout. It's so deliberate that I often found it to be satirical in character - as if she was deliberately poking fun at various romance novels and tropes. (I don't know if that's true. I think it may be -- the writer has a snarky wit in interviews.) But it is admittedly horrid and jarring, and insanely repetitious. Also the romance at the center of the book - is offensive if you look at it from a certain perspective. I found it offensive from that perspective. But if you look at it from another angle, it is touching, tragic, and moving. Which I also found. I've read worse and seen worse -- so from my perspective this was a relatively tame and somewhat funny book -- but again I'd read books that I couldn't finish. (The infamous "Story of O" (which was written in the 1960s or 70s) comes to mind - couldn't get past the first twenty pages.) Both reviewers are honest and correct in their perspective. The first reviewer is angry and condemns the second reviewer's taste, while the second reviewer is defensive, and almost apologetic, feeling the need to justify why she enjoyed the book.
If 50 Shades still offends you, particularly its success, due to the questionable and offensive content, instead of taking out your rage on the people who enjoyed the book -- please contribute to a domestic violence charity in your area or volunteer at a shelter, or contribute funds to victims of intimate violence. You'll achieve your goal far quicker. Blasting 50 Shades --- is a bit like beating a brick wall with jello.
3) :
Negative Review:
This was a huge disappointment for me. The opening New York sections were excellent, the description of the museum bombing and the whole Mansfield Park thing Tartt has going with Theo and the Barbour family, all of this works beautifully. I was excited to keep on reading to see where it all ended up, but once things move to Las Vegas the story takes a seriously wrong turn. I seem to be a minority opinion here, but there you have it. I do remember sitting up all night in 1992 reading The Secret History. But this is something else...
I have to wonder for whom Tartt thinks she's writing. Does she really imagine that intelligent adult readers are going to be enthralled with hundreds of pages detailing the antics of a pair of burned-out druggie teenagers who spend their time smoking weed, swilling vodka, and dining on packets of sugar and whatever junk food delicacies they can boost from the local supermarket? Well, perhaps they will, the book *is* on the NYT besteller list. But once all the hype and interviews die down...who knows?
The comparisons to Dickens are particularly inappropriate. Dickens wrote about orphans and other unfortunates who are on the receiving end of undeserved bad luck, but his characters struggle *against* degradation and dissipation. Poor little Joe the crossing sweeper sleeps in Tom All Alone's because he has no other choice. But here Theo and Boris revel in their squalor and dissipation . (Boris is the kind of character who seems to exist only in books and movies: the burn-out loser druggie who is failing all his classes in school but is really a secret genius who reads Dostoevsky and Thoreau in his rare sober and lucid moments. Yeah...right. I've been to high school. Burn outs are burn outs).
Nor is there any hint of Dickens' rollicking and life-affirming humor in the book. In fact there is no humor of any kind whatsoever (at least not as far as I read). Not a drop of wit. No one even cracks a halfway decent dirty joke.
And then there is Theo's father, an inveterate gambler deep into the loan sharks, and his aging sexpot girlfriend Xandra...both potentially interesting characters, except they are presented in one-dimensional terms throughout their stay in the novel, and really exist for no other purpose than to end up the way they do (at least in the case of Theo's dad). Wasted opportunity.
Too bad. I gave up halfway though the book. There is just such an incredible ugliness about all (or almost all) of the characters that I found I didn't care a damn what happened to them and certainly didn't want to spend any more time with them. The ironic part is that Tartt is an incredible writer, a master of descriptive prose, attentive to detail and able to create a truly believable world on the page. Too bad it's such a rotten world.
While I enjoyed Tartt's first two novels, The Secret History and The Little Friend (see my review), there was something missing from each that held me back from thinking they were great. I have no reservations here.
Though this is not a novel of 9/11, I can't help but wonder if it is (partly) Tartt's response to it. It certainly seems to be informed by the event, as it details and describes a character (actually two characters, though the other is in the 'middle-ground' of the story) who has survived a catastrophic event in NYC and suffers from PTSD, how his life is irrevocably altered by one event, spiraling out of control and into choices that are unconscious and perhaps fated. The prevalence of drugs in the world -- and the results of their easy access -- is also a relevant, contemporary topic.
When the story would become almost unbearably bleak, the subtle allusions to Dickens' works was exciting (at least, to me, a Dickens fan), causing me to smile, especially the last one when Theo wakes up in his hotel room and realizes ... well, I won't give it anyway. While grasping these literary references isn't essential, they are more than just for fun: they fit an overarching theme about the relationship of art, any kind of art, to the individual, a theme beautifully described in the last few pages, pages that brought tears to my eyes, even more so when I reread them this morning. Theo has The Goldfinch in the same way I believe Donna Tartt has Dickens.
The first reviewer enjoyed the book to start, but gave up halfway through. And felt the Dickens references were inappropriate. This reviewer also had issues with the lack of humor in the novel and unrelenting bleakness. They felt it dragged, and was a waste.
While they loved The Secret History, Tartt's prior novel, they couldn't finish this one.
The second reviewer is the polar opposite. While they enjoyed the Secret History, they felt it lacked something -- while this novel contained everything they wanted. They felt the Dickens references were "exciting" and " amusing". That Tartt had Dickens down. And while the story was almost unbearably bleak at times -- the Dickens bits made them smile.
It's important to note that both reviewers were fans of the writer's style, and fans of Dickens. But they had completely different reactions to the plot, characters, and how Dickens was referenced. A reader who is not a fan of Dickens, may or may not based on these reviews like the book. I read the reviews -- and thought, okay, I loved the Secret History, but I hate Dickens writing style -- so, this may not be the book for me.
How they related to the book -- had more to do with their personal preferences, experience, mood, etc than it had to do with the book.
If I were teach someone to write a review - I'd advise them to write a constructive critique, that provides the reader with just enough information to determine if they should read it, and the writer, should they happen to stumble across it, just enough information to know if the book worked for the reader or didn't and why. I would also advise not to be cruel, to handle the critique the way you might critique your own child's work. Or someone you loved. To be kind. Which is hard -- I think. It's something I'm working on. And do not always succeed in. But I can't go backwards and fix what happened yesterday, all I can do is work on today, this moment. And let tomorrow bring what it will.
In the past two years, I have read over a million book reviews, and written a scant 100 or so. I like reading reviews, always have, whether they be book, film or television.
There's an odd thrill to looking a work of art through the eyes of someone else. Used to read Publisher's Weekly, Library Journal, New York Review of Books, The Times Book Review, and various others cover to cover. And I remember picking up Premiere Magazine for the film reviews.
With the internet, I tend to read Amazon, Good Reads, Smartbitches.com, and various livejournal book review posts.
But here's the problem with reviews -- regardless of what they are for, they tend to tell you more about the reviewer than the product, book, film, television show, or item being reviewed. I know, I was recently scanning reviews of air conditioners in order to buy an air conditioner. Every product had about four or five reviews. And no matter what it was -- it had at least two horrible reviews from dissatisfied customers. One reviewer stated that the air conditioner was "too loud" and didn't cool things at all.
While five other reviewers said the exact opposite - that it was quiet, and cooled their entire apartment. Who to believe? Eeny-Meeny-Miney-Moe. I found myself critically analyzing the reviews. I decided if the review ratio was three positive reviews (ie. 4-5 stars) vs. one negative review. I'd ignore the negative review. Most likely a fluke or bad luck. And I think we can all agree that air conditioners aren't necessarily something you'd review subjectively. There's objective criteria. Facts. Figures. They either cool down the room or they don't. How loud they are -- now that might be a bit subjective.
Books, on the other hand - there's really no objective criteria available. You can't even use technique, writing style, or grammar. Mainly because - the English language is tricky. Not helped by slang, and in fiction - you can break certain rules for a more conversational style. (Like I'm doing now. It's deliberate. I'm breaking all sorts of rules by design. Probably annoying the beejesus out of the folks who have English as a second language and learned "text-book" English. I feel for you. I learned text-book French in high school and found myself in the middle of Bretagne, where they did not speak text-book French (actually does anyone outside of American high school students?), and was a bit lost.)
So when people write book reviews...they often tell you more about themselves as a reader than they may intend to. For example? "It was an amazing book. I read it in one sitting." Okay, they probably skimmed half of it. Not necessarily that amazing. And a page-turner. Didn't require too much attention. Or time. "It was a long book, beautifully written, but took too long to read." This reviewer prefers quick reads. They don't want to spend too much time on one book. "This book was overly detailed. Too many descriptions. Wordy. The writer is clearly a recluse and paid to type. I was bored." The reader struggled with the style, possibly dislikes long sentences and prefers short ones. Might be a fan of a more simplistic or minimalistic writing style. Does it tell you whether you want to read the book? Probably not. Because your idea of overly detailed or wordy, is not necessarily the same as mine.
Television is similar. A lot of people viewed Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a cheesy teenage gothic soap opera with little value outside of that. I'm not saying they are wrong or right for that matter, just that this is one perspective in a multitude of possibilities. Others, saw the series as a meaty meta-philosophical discourse on adolescence and growing up that subverted various gender and genre stereotypes.
What you brought into the series as a watcher, was in the end what you took out of it.
It wasn't going to be the same for everyone.
Below follows a series of book reviews that I randomly selected from Amazon and Good Reads from amateur reviewers. I post the negative or one star review above the five star review. In each review, we learn more about the reader's preferences, how they read, what intrigues them, than we learn about the book. Making book reviews in of themselves highly unreliable ways to choose what to read next.
1)
Neil Gaiman's Ocean at the End of the Lane:
The negative review:
I don't get it. This is a book that 10-15 year olds MIGHT enjoy, except for one too-adult scene, so you wouldn't give it to them. But other than that, it's good against evil, childhood innocence against adult cluelessness or corruption, and a bunch of one-dimensional supernatural beings. There are some poetic and touching passages, but I still can't give it more than 1 star . I wouldn't have finished this book if it wasn't so short.
The positive review:
When I was a little girl, I loved my world. I loved the fresh gingerbread the Mrs Piper, old lady down the street, would serve to neighborhood children who came to see the train she set up in her house at Christmas-time. I loved the sun-warmed feel of my brother's broad shoulders, when he carried me piggy back, or the combination smell of starch and cigar that haunted my father's shirts when he hugged me. I loved the sound of a saxophone, when my other brother was practicing, or the way my mother, curled up with a book and a bowl of polly seeds* would scooch over so I could nestle in at her side, cracking the black and white shells for the seed inside.
I love my world now, too. And I love the world Neil Gaiman created in The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
I'd read that this book started as a short story, and couldn't be stopped. It grew. And it grew into a wonderful tale. Some of it, I feel sure, has deep roots in Gaiman's own childhood. The descriptions ring so true. And while I've heard him talk of his childhood, he's not necessarily mentioned magic, but undoubtedly that was present, for is there not a little magic everywhere, for those who care to look? This is a fairy tale -- not the sanitized, politically correct ones that are circulating today, but a real one, with good and bad, hope and fear, monsters and Hempstocks. Yes, Hemstocks. Lizzie Hempstock, who may, or may not be eleven, her mother, and Old Lady Hempstock, who remembers when the moon was made. And these Hempstocks may be distantly related to Daisy Hempstock in Stardust and Liza Hempstock in The Graveyard Book, or so says neilhimself (though in his blog, not twitter.)
I happily immersed myself in this small volume, delighted to be reading my favorite author again, his first adult book in ages, while also begging myself to slow down, because the next book, adult or children's, may be a long time coming. But I couldn't help myself. I gobbled it up, and sighed with contentment. He did it again. A wonderful, scrumptious book. The man is an artist, a magician, a teller-of-tales, and if all the accounts I've heard are right, he's altruistic and a truly decent man.
I think I love Neil Gaiman even more than Mrs Piper's gingerbread. And that's saying a whole lot.
Read the book.
Note - the first reader was alienated by the fairy tale aspect of the novel, and in particular the writing style and the lack of a clear tight plot. They felt it was cliche and lacked depth. A children's novel, little more. The second reader - was charmed by the fairy tale aspect, related to the characters, and adored the writing style. They felt it was an adult novel with deep meaning and gobbled it up.
2)
The controversial 50 Shades of Grey by EL James from Amazon:
Negative Review:
I downloaded the book to my Kindle because it was on the best seller list and had 4 stars overall rating on Amazon. I wish I'd taken the time to read some of the reviews. As it turns out I agree with the negative.
I found myself thinking "Twilight, plus some spanking, minus the sparkly vampires." Here, I'll save you all some time (SPOILER ALERT):
Once upon a time...
I'm Ana. I'm clumsy and naive. I like books. I dig this guy. He couldn't possibly like me. He's rich. I wonder if he's gay? His eyes are gray. Super gray. Intensely gray. Intense AND gray. Serious and gray. Super gray. Dark and gray. [insert 100+ other ways to say "gray eyes" here]
I blush. I gasp. He touches me "down there." I gasp again. He gasps. We both gasp. I blush some more. I gasp some more. I refer to my genitals as "down there" a few more times. I blush some more. Sorry, I mean I "flush" some more. I bite my lip. He gasps a lot more. More gasping. More blushing/flushing. More lip biting. Still more gasping.
The end.
The bad:
It was an interesting concept - for a romance novel. However the story is weak, the pace is slow and awkward, the characters come through as more schizophrenic than complicated, the "romance" is a juvenile and dysfunctional crush, and the "erotic" scenes alternate between Penthouse Forum and something that sounds like it was written by a painfully shy and sheltered 13 year old. I have now read through some of the rave reviews and I have to assume that these were posted by people easily shocked and/or titillated. I can't imagine what fans are comparing this to when they describe this as "good."
The good:
Nice cover art.
Positive Review:
Okay one thing is clear about `50 shades of grey', you either love it or hate it. I read the book on impulse after a friend recommended it as `similar to twilight', so mind you I had no idea the book dealt with BDSM. My first reaction was `what the hell?!', I have to say it was clearly a surprise and not one I was entirely content with but 50-75 pages in why not continue?
So here it is, I gave the book a chance and found myself mesmerized by the relationship between Ana and Chris. I found potential in their relationship and the idea that Grey was a haunted soul. What women can resist the subliminal need to nurture a tortured soul? I tried to look beyond the BDSM and found myself getting more and more comfortable with their relationship. The chemistry between the characters is clear and charged with electricity, the explicit scenes often times made me blush.
The story continues to grow throughout the next two books which I already read as well, because quite frankly it's a fun read. If your reading the book its not for its literacy accuracy (for those who want literature read the Bronte or Austen novels) but for the sheer of reading something different that is romantic, erotic and funny all in one. Do I recommend the book? Yes, if your open minded about sex, relationships and willing to read it as fan fiction which is exactly what it was meant to be.
The first reader was put-off by the writing style and repetition. They also were a bit offended by the romantic coupling. Finding it silly juvenile and well, offensive. And could not understand how anyone could possibly like the book. The erotica aspect did not bother them, they just found the style atrocious. The second reader was charmed by the writing style and romantic coupling. The saving of a tortured soul aspect appealed to them. And while they found the sex scenes a bit off-putting, they were ultimately easy to overlook - because of the romance which hooked them from the start.
What we learn from both - is well, it depends on what you want in writing style. The second reader, somewhat defensively points out that this isn't literary -- if you want Bronte or Austen -- go read them. (Actually it's not even on par with Nora Roberts, Anne Rice, Sylvia Day, Courtney Milan and Danielle Steele...but let's not get nit-picky.) What's interesting about the 50 Shades reviews is a lot of reviewers assume that writing styles need to be uniform. That there is actually an objective criteria regarding a writing style that makes it good or bad. This is simply not true. (Forget what your stodgy English Lit teachers taught you. There are multiple writing styles, folks.] I learned this a long time ago - having read multiple writing styles and having written in multiple styles. My online style is nothing like my style at work, etc. Also, we all have our preferences - often, it is what we were taught or conditioned to prefer. The only objective criteria in regards to style - is: is it consistent, and does it fit the story, genre, and characters. Would the characters think and talk like this? For example a gritty urban character is not going to talk like Henry James, any more than a character in the 19th Century is going to talk and think like Nick Hornby or Helen Fielding or Stephen King.
50 Shades has a deliberate style. The writer is consistent throughout. It's so deliberate that I often found it to be satirical in character - as if she was deliberately poking fun at various romance novels and tropes. (I don't know if that's true. I think it may be -- the writer has a snarky wit in interviews.) But it is admittedly horrid and jarring, and insanely repetitious. Also the romance at the center of the book - is offensive if you look at it from a certain perspective. I found it offensive from that perspective. But if you look at it from another angle, it is touching, tragic, and moving. Which I also found. I've read worse and seen worse -- so from my perspective this was a relatively tame and somewhat funny book -- but again I'd read books that I couldn't finish. (The infamous "Story of O" (which was written in the 1960s or 70s) comes to mind - couldn't get past the first twenty pages.) Both reviewers are honest and correct in their perspective. The first reviewer is angry and condemns the second reviewer's taste, while the second reviewer is defensive, and almost apologetic, feeling the need to justify why she enjoyed the book.
If 50 Shades still offends you, particularly its success, due to the questionable and offensive content, instead of taking out your rage on the people who enjoyed the book -- please contribute to a domestic violence charity in your area or volunteer at a shelter, or contribute funds to victims of intimate violence. You'll achieve your goal far quicker. Blasting 50 Shades --- is a bit like beating a brick wall with jello.
3) :
Negative Review:
This was a huge disappointment for me. The opening New York sections were excellent, the description of the museum bombing and the whole Mansfield Park thing Tartt has going with Theo and the Barbour family, all of this works beautifully. I was excited to keep on reading to see where it all ended up, but once things move to Las Vegas the story takes a seriously wrong turn. I seem to be a minority opinion here, but there you have it. I do remember sitting up all night in 1992 reading The Secret History. But this is something else...
I have to wonder for whom Tartt thinks she's writing. Does she really imagine that intelligent adult readers are going to be enthralled with hundreds of pages detailing the antics of a pair of burned-out druggie teenagers who spend their time smoking weed, swilling vodka, and dining on packets of sugar and whatever junk food delicacies they can boost from the local supermarket? Well, perhaps they will, the book *is* on the NYT besteller list. But once all the hype and interviews die down...who knows?
The comparisons to Dickens are particularly inappropriate. Dickens wrote about orphans and other unfortunates who are on the receiving end of undeserved bad luck, but his characters struggle *against* degradation and dissipation. Poor little Joe the crossing sweeper sleeps in Tom All Alone's because he has no other choice. But here Theo and Boris revel in their squalor and dissipation . (Boris is the kind of character who seems to exist only in books and movies: the burn-out loser druggie who is failing all his classes in school but is really a secret genius who reads Dostoevsky and Thoreau in his rare sober and lucid moments. Yeah...right. I've been to high school. Burn outs are burn outs).
Nor is there any hint of Dickens' rollicking and life-affirming humor in the book. In fact there is no humor of any kind whatsoever (at least not as far as I read). Not a drop of wit. No one even cracks a halfway decent dirty joke.
And then there is Theo's father, an inveterate gambler deep into the loan sharks, and his aging sexpot girlfriend Xandra...both potentially interesting characters, except they are presented in one-dimensional terms throughout their stay in the novel, and really exist for no other purpose than to end up the way they do (at least in the case of Theo's dad). Wasted opportunity.
Too bad. I gave up halfway though the book. There is just such an incredible ugliness about all (or almost all) of the characters that I found I didn't care a damn what happened to them and certainly didn't want to spend any more time with them. The ironic part is that Tartt is an incredible writer, a master of descriptive prose, attentive to detail and able to create a truly believable world on the page. Too bad it's such a rotten world.
While I enjoyed Tartt's first two novels, The Secret History and The Little Friend (see my review), there was something missing from each that held me back from thinking they were great. I have no reservations here.
Though this is not a novel of 9/11, I can't help but wonder if it is (partly) Tartt's response to it. It certainly seems to be informed by the event, as it details and describes a character (actually two characters, though the other is in the 'middle-ground' of the story) who has survived a catastrophic event in NYC and suffers from PTSD, how his life is irrevocably altered by one event, spiraling out of control and into choices that are unconscious and perhaps fated. The prevalence of drugs in the world -- and the results of their easy access -- is also a relevant, contemporary topic.
When the story would become almost unbearably bleak, the subtle allusions to Dickens' works was exciting (at least, to me, a Dickens fan), causing me to smile, especially the last one when Theo wakes up in his hotel room and realizes ... well, I won't give it anyway. While grasping these literary references isn't essential, they are more than just for fun: they fit an overarching theme about the relationship of art, any kind of art, to the individual, a theme beautifully described in the last few pages, pages that brought tears to my eyes, even more so when I reread them this morning. Theo has The Goldfinch in the same way I believe Donna Tartt has Dickens.
The first reviewer enjoyed the book to start, but gave up halfway through. And felt the Dickens references were inappropriate. This reviewer also had issues with the lack of humor in the novel and unrelenting bleakness. They felt it dragged, and was a waste.
While they loved The Secret History, Tartt's prior novel, they couldn't finish this one.
The second reviewer is the polar opposite. While they enjoyed the Secret History, they felt it lacked something -- while this novel contained everything they wanted. They felt the Dickens references were "exciting" and " amusing". That Tartt had Dickens down. And while the story was almost unbearably bleak at times -- the Dickens bits made them smile.
It's important to note that both reviewers were fans of the writer's style, and fans of Dickens. But they had completely different reactions to the plot, characters, and how Dickens was referenced. A reader who is not a fan of Dickens, may or may not based on these reviews like the book. I read the reviews -- and thought, okay, I loved the Secret History, but I hate Dickens writing style -- so, this may not be the book for me.
How they related to the book -- had more to do with their personal preferences, experience, mood, etc than it had to do with the book.
If I were teach someone to write a review - I'd advise them to write a constructive critique, that provides the reader with just enough information to determine if they should read it, and the writer, should they happen to stumble across it, just enough information to know if the book worked for the reader or didn't and why. I would also advise not to be cruel, to handle the critique the way you might critique your own child's work. Or someone you loved. To be kind. Which is hard -- I think. It's something I'm working on. And do not always succeed in. But I can't go backwards and fix what happened yesterday, all I can do is work on today, this moment. And let tomorrow bring what it will.