Books I'm Reading and Justified Finale
Apr. 6th, 2013 11:05 am1. Lovely if chilly morning. No clouds. Bright blue sky. And yes, you can tell I've been writing formally all week long, poetry escapes me. Time was I would wax poetic about a sunny day, now I can't be bothered. Work...stop sucking the poetry out of me, it's just rude.
Speaking of writing or rather reading...I am attempting to read The White Forest by Adam McOmber which has admittedly gotten mixed reviews. Most of the reviews however rave about how beautiful his prose is and what a treat it is to read such good writing, the story however...they aren't all that certain about. Which is true, it is well-written, although I would not go so far as to say it was beautifully written - I've read better. And so have you. Making me wonder about the reviewers on Amazon amongst other sites...what are these people reading? Stupid question - the best-seller list. And yes, in comparison to the best-seller list - it is beautifully written. If you've never read Edith Wharton, Henry James, Bram Stoker, Ray Bradbury, the Brontes, amongst others...I guess I can see why you might be blown away by the style.
The problem is not enough contemporary prose writers have taken poetry classes. Somehow they skipped those in school. Their prose, as a result, lacks poetry, so it also lacks emotional resonance. Reading it feels a bit like eating a french fry or a puff pastry, afterwards you forget what you've read.
My difficulty with The White Forest is not in how it is written, so much as in its tonal quality, which is rather passive as are the characters. Granted this is to a degree the Victorian Style - which is why I don't tend to enjoy books published in the mid-late Victorian period. Repression bores me. Although I admit to liking Edith Wharton - although I'm not entirely sure Wharton counts as Victorian, so much as post-Victorian? Can't remember dates any better than I can remember names - it is pathetic and most likely why I did not become a historian. But here...it is more than that. The writer writes around things, alluding to them, but not directly discussing them - to the point that you sort of want to kick at the prose to see what surfaces. I began to skim after a bit.
It's also hard to care much about the characters. They aren't so much flat as feather-like, as if they might float away with a puff of air from the reader. And a tad self-absorbed. None of the characters really appears to care about anyone outside of themselves, and all have a cold almost ice-like veneer. I just don't care what happens to any of them, and I'm about 30% of the way in to the novel. Note - I don't have to necessarily like a character to continue reading - or I wouldn't be reading GRR Martin, he has a lot of characters that I don't necessarily like but find interesting (ex: Cersie and LittleFinger), but I do have to care. For me - it really begins and ends with the characters. If I do not care a whit about the characters, it doesn't matter how beautiful the prose is (and frankly I've read more beautiful prose - Proust comes to mind as does Edith Wharton - or even for that matter Jeffrey Eugendis - who I despise, but can definitely write well.)
Anyhow, I think I may either jump back to Dance of Dragons (and just skip the rest of Quentin's chapter - he's on a boat, day-dreaming about marrying Dany, and I just want to say - Dude, so not going to happen. Do us both a favor and go home. After a certain point, you can predict these things. No one gets what they are after in Martin's books - they all set off on journey's that don't lead to their planned destination.) I think this is how my friends are getting through Martin's books so quickly - they skim. But here's the thing, skimming Martin's books means you miss key plot points, such as how so and so got killed or brought back to life as the case may be. The writer is adept at burying this sort of information in places you would least expect to find it. OR I will jump back into Ellen Kushner's Privilege of the Sword - which is the one I own, although I'm guessing my mood is probably more for Swordspoint. Wonder if I can just get a sample on the Kindle and see?
My tendency to jump in and out of books based on mood is why I don't bother with libraries any longer - I'd end up paying exorbiant rental fees. There's also the fact that I'm hard on my books and carry the book I'm reading everywhere I go. So rental fees plus damages. Add to this - quirky tastes - which mean most of the books I read are hard to find in libraries.
2. Watched The Justified Season Finale last night. (Note not the series finale. Even though I felt at times the series was on its last legs, no one else agreed with me, besides my mother. So it's been renewed.) The season finale was actually amongst best episodes in an otherwise uneven and at times lacklustre season. I didn't find this season as engrossing as the previous seasons. But the whole protagonist could potentially become a noir anti-hero, with the love of a good woman and child being the only things that may keep him on the straight and narrow, bit has admittedly gotten a bit old in the tooth for me. (We've done this too many times on TV now. See Angel, Rescue Me, House, amongst others..) That said, any episode that explored the Raylan/Boyd Crowder friendship was interesting. Because the two men are echoes/mirrors of each other. As Boyd more or less tells Raylan - the only thing separating us is you think you are the good guy (although he doesn't say it that directly).
Both men lose what they cared about most through a series of career related decisions throughout the season. And in the final sequence, you see that understanding dawn on both their faces. They are their own worst enemies, created by the fathers they both scorn and the coal mines they worked inside of, side by side.
With a ditty humming in the background..."You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive Raylan stares at the gravestones in his family's backyard, specifically the new one marking his father's grave, and Boyd stares at the garden and house he may have had once with Ava.
In the deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my bloodline, and it's there that I read on a hillside gravestone, you will never leave Harlan alive".
Haunting ending. I felt sorry for both. Boyd Crowder who inadvertently sent the mob after Raylin Gibbons, so has to leave Ava to help Raylin. Although - I don't think his being with Ava would have changed anything. Raylin who inadvertently sent the mob after his family by insisting on taking point on Shelby and Ellie May. So at the end, Winona leaves Raylin and Harlan for her mothers, where she feels safe even though she knows he's made her safe again - she can't be with him. And Ava is taken into custody for killing the man, that Ellie May helped her bury and has told the cops about.
In their discussion previously...Boyd asks Raylin if he really that different. How can you go to sleep at night and continue to tell yourself you are the good guy? And his actions don't necessarily contradict the sentiment. He sets up Nicky, who went after his family, so the man is killed by the mob - although to be fair Nicky did it to himself - telling Raylin he planned on killing Sammy (the new mob boss) and Raylin's whole family. Nicky talked too much. But Raylin tells Sammy, I'm suspended and off the job. If Nicky turned himself in - put himself in my custody, that would be one thing. He didn't. I don't care what you do, it's not my problem. When he returns - his boss believes the mob took care of the problem and Raylin had nothing to do with it. But he does more or less lose Winona.
Meanwhile Boyd arrives to late to save Ava, Ava had decided to dispose of the body herself, without help, and is caught by the cops who set them up. They'd intended to grab Boyd.
He's told later by Detroit Mob that they are moving down to Mississippi, but they'd like to have him handle the heroine trade in Harlan, if he's willing. He nods. It's what he wanted, that deal. It will make him rich. But at what cost? At the end he breaks into the house that he and Ava wandered through, with the beautiful garden, and stares off in painful reflection.
And Raylin goes back to his father's old house, fixes the hole in the wall, and takes a beer out to the backyard, where he sits in stony reflection - staring at his father's gravestone.
One wonders sometimes if we are doomed to make the choices we make...driven to them somehow, or if we actually made them? Is life luck and happenstance...or is it cause and effect, a series of choices unfurling like a ribbon to their conclusion?
Speaking of writing or rather reading...I am attempting to read The White Forest by Adam McOmber which has admittedly gotten mixed reviews. Most of the reviews however rave about how beautiful his prose is and what a treat it is to read such good writing, the story however...they aren't all that certain about. Which is true, it is well-written, although I would not go so far as to say it was beautifully written - I've read better. And so have you. Making me wonder about the reviewers on Amazon amongst other sites...what are these people reading? Stupid question - the best-seller list. And yes, in comparison to the best-seller list - it is beautifully written. If you've never read Edith Wharton, Henry James, Bram Stoker, Ray Bradbury, the Brontes, amongst others...I guess I can see why you might be blown away by the style.
The problem is not enough contemporary prose writers have taken poetry classes. Somehow they skipped those in school. Their prose, as a result, lacks poetry, so it also lacks emotional resonance. Reading it feels a bit like eating a french fry or a puff pastry, afterwards you forget what you've read.
My difficulty with The White Forest is not in how it is written, so much as in its tonal quality, which is rather passive as are the characters. Granted this is to a degree the Victorian Style - which is why I don't tend to enjoy books published in the mid-late Victorian period. Repression bores me. Although I admit to liking Edith Wharton - although I'm not entirely sure Wharton counts as Victorian, so much as post-Victorian? Can't remember dates any better than I can remember names - it is pathetic and most likely why I did not become a historian. But here...it is more than that. The writer writes around things, alluding to them, but not directly discussing them - to the point that you sort of want to kick at the prose to see what surfaces. I began to skim after a bit.
It's also hard to care much about the characters. They aren't so much flat as feather-like, as if they might float away with a puff of air from the reader. And a tad self-absorbed. None of the characters really appears to care about anyone outside of themselves, and all have a cold almost ice-like veneer. I just don't care what happens to any of them, and I'm about 30% of the way in to the novel. Note - I don't have to necessarily like a character to continue reading - or I wouldn't be reading GRR Martin, he has a lot of characters that I don't necessarily like but find interesting (ex: Cersie and LittleFinger), but I do have to care. For me - it really begins and ends with the characters. If I do not care a whit about the characters, it doesn't matter how beautiful the prose is (and frankly I've read more beautiful prose - Proust comes to mind as does Edith Wharton - or even for that matter Jeffrey Eugendis - who I despise, but can definitely write well.)
Anyhow, I think I may either jump back to Dance of Dragons (and just skip the rest of Quentin's chapter - he's on a boat, day-dreaming about marrying Dany, and I just want to say - Dude, so not going to happen. Do us both a favor and go home. After a certain point, you can predict these things. No one gets what they are after in Martin's books - they all set off on journey's that don't lead to their planned destination.) I think this is how my friends are getting through Martin's books so quickly - they skim. But here's the thing, skimming Martin's books means you miss key plot points, such as how so and so got killed or brought back to life as the case may be. The writer is adept at burying this sort of information in places you would least expect to find it. OR I will jump back into Ellen Kushner's Privilege of the Sword - which is the one I own, although I'm guessing my mood is probably more for Swordspoint. Wonder if I can just get a sample on the Kindle and see?
My tendency to jump in and out of books based on mood is why I don't bother with libraries any longer - I'd end up paying exorbiant rental fees. There's also the fact that I'm hard on my books and carry the book I'm reading everywhere I go. So rental fees plus damages. Add to this - quirky tastes - which mean most of the books I read are hard to find in libraries.
2. Watched The Justified Season Finale last night. (Note not the series finale. Even though I felt at times the series was on its last legs, no one else agreed with me, besides my mother. So it's been renewed.) The season finale was actually amongst best episodes in an otherwise uneven and at times lacklustre season. I didn't find this season as engrossing as the previous seasons. But the whole protagonist could potentially become a noir anti-hero, with the love of a good woman and child being the only things that may keep him on the straight and narrow, bit has admittedly gotten a bit old in the tooth for me. (We've done this too many times on TV now. See Angel, Rescue Me, House, amongst others..) That said, any episode that explored the Raylan/Boyd Crowder friendship was interesting. Because the two men are echoes/mirrors of each other. As Boyd more or less tells Raylan - the only thing separating us is you think you are the good guy (although he doesn't say it that directly).
Both men lose what they cared about most through a series of career related decisions throughout the season. And in the final sequence, you see that understanding dawn on both their faces. They are their own worst enemies, created by the fathers they both scorn and the coal mines they worked inside of, side by side.
With a ditty humming in the background..."You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive Raylan stares at the gravestones in his family's backyard, specifically the new one marking his father's grave, and Boyd stares at the garden and house he may have had once with Ava.
In the deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my bloodline, and it's there that I read on a hillside gravestone, you will never leave Harlan alive".
Haunting ending. I felt sorry for both. Boyd Crowder who inadvertently sent the mob after Raylin Gibbons, so has to leave Ava to help Raylin. Although - I don't think his being with Ava would have changed anything. Raylin who inadvertently sent the mob after his family by insisting on taking point on Shelby and Ellie May. So at the end, Winona leaves Raylin and Harlan for her mothers, where she feels safe even though she knows he's made her safe again - she can't be with him. And Ava is taken into custody for killing the man, that Ellie May helped her bury and has told the cops about.
In their discussion previously...Boyd asks Raylin if he really that different. How can you go to sleep at night and continue to tell yourself you are the good guy? And his actions don't necessarily contradict the sentiment. He sets up Nicky, who went after his family, so the man is killed by the mob - although to be fair Nicky did it to himself - telling Raylin he planned on killing Sammy (the new mob boss) and Raylin's whole family. Nicky talked too much. But Raylin tells Sammy, I'm suspended and off the job. If Nicky turned himself in - put himself in my custody, that would be one thing. He didn't. I don't care what you do, it's not my problem. When he returns - his boss believes the mob took care of the problem and Raylin had nothing to do with it. But he does more or less lose Winona.
Meanwhile Boyd arrives to late to save Ava, Ava had decided to dispose of the body herself, without help, and is caught by the cops who set them up. They'd intended to grab Boyd.
He's told later by Detroit Mob that they are moving down to Mississippi, but they'd like to have him handle the heroine trade in Harlan, if he's willing. He nods. It's what he wanted, that deal. It will make him rich. But at what cost? At the end he breaks into the house that he and Ava wandered through, with the beautiful garden, and stares off in painful reflection.
And Raylin goes back to his father's old house, fixes the hole in the wall, and takes a beer out to the backyard, where he sits in stony reflection - staring at his father's gravestone.
One wonders sometimes if we are doomed to make the choices we make...driven to them somehow, or if we actually made them? Is life luck and happenstance...or is it cause and effect, a series of choices unfurling like a ribbon to their conclusion?
no subject
Date: 2013-04-06 04:02 pm (UTC)