again, i have completely devoured a series of books in record time. i can’t help it, i get lost in a story and don’t stop until i’m through. then, i want more. my appetite is insatiable, and each of these books is a particularly tasty treat. i would be in fantastic shape if i could live off of books alone…or i would be a roly-poly glutton with the way i go through them…
what i’ve read in the last 2 weeks (my amazon.com order arrived on the 15th):
Good in Bed — by Jennifer Weiner — i always see this book in the stores, on shelves, everywhere. i kept passing it by, occasionally reading the book jacket and thinking “am i interested?” i think i saw something about it on jen lancaster’s site and finally i thought, i should read this book. so i ordered it (on sale) and there you go.
the story is cute, though not exceptionally engaging. you feel for the protagonist, but as with most of these “chic-lit” books, she doesn’t stand up for herself enough. she’s plagued with “body issues” and thrown into unbelievable circumstances and full of baby lust. even if it is an unplanned pregnancy. also, everything works out in the end, as if by magic. so…hrm…dunno. i liked the main character well enough, but her name bugged me. also, you get tired of seeing these women characters wilt under the force of the ‘evil men’ around them. and even more tired of seeing men villanized. some women, believe it or not, have fabulous fathers. chic lit seems to think all their “heroine’s” issues start with “daddy”.
interestingly, i’m far more intrigued by the sequel of this book. i did not hate it, but some things could have gone differently, i think. a good first effort by the author but i feel like i’ve read this same story over and over again.
Blood is the New Black — by Valerie Stivers — DEFINITELY recommended by jen lancaster, and quite the hilarious tale. i think i devoured it in a weekend afternoon (much to the boy’s chagrin). it’s very campy and upbeat (but, you know, with vampires and murders and mysterious danger). very ugly betty + devil wears prada + buffy the vampire slayer. and yet, it didn’t make me want to stab my damn eyes out with a couture stiletto.
it was, nearly sugary sweet fluff, but actually a spot-on commentary on the ridiculousness of the fashion industry (and the equally vicious fashion magazine industry). of course, after a while you want to play “spot the brand name” because it seems every other page has a designer or label mentioned. that’s another thing about ‘chic lit’ that bugs the ever livin’ shit out of me. it’s always what brand someone is wearing, where they bought their furniture/electronics/beauty products, what insane beauty procedure is being done. it gets old after a while. i mean, i want to read a book, not a god damned advertisement.
and i’m getting off the point right now because that didn’t happen as much in this book — which was all about fashion (and vampires) — as it did in other books. all in all, i enjoyed this book and will most likely read it again.
Possible Side Effects — by Augusten Burroughs — oh mr. burroughs how i utterly love you. and how much more do i love that i can get hardcover (but not signed, first-edition, drat!) copies of your books on amazon for only $5. since running with scissors i have been a huge fan. and sometimes, i wish there were a followup to sellevision, because it was so witty and hilarious that i truly think a world of augusten burroughs fiction could be quite fantastic. however, possible side effects was awesome all on its own.
you jump around back and forth from the embarrassing to the hysterical to the heartwarming (in a screwy, messed up kind of way) all in one book. young augusten, older augusten, single and partnered…all painting the picture of the slightly off-kilter guy that everyone knows and loves. though, i’m convinced if i saw him on a plane that he’d look at me shrieking with joy and think, “man, what a freak!” and then it’d end up in a book and i’d be mortified.
plus, he named his dog “Cow”, aka “The Cow”. which is adorable and kind of makes me want a cow of my own…
Grotesque — by Natsuo Kirino — this book was the one i was most most most excited about. in fact, i “saved the best for last” but in the process ended up plowing through the other three books in record speed just to get to it. i took my time with this book, savoring every moment of it, but honestly i plowed through it as well. i just can’t help it! plus ms. kirino’s books are so fantastic (all two that i have read…) and her writing is so intriguing, so stark, so raw that you can’t help but lose yourself to it.
a marked difference from out, grotesque takes a different turn entirely but keeps the same writing style. written in the first person, switching between an array of truly fascinating, flawed and “grotesque” characters it’s a change from the mysterious drama of out but still with a uniquely unfolding story. instead of murderous mayhem and a bit of action, this follows the seedy underbelly of japan’s world of prostitution. and actually, it’s a bit of a feminist manifesto on the culture of japan, the elite classism and sexism in the workplace. but with a riveting twist.
as usual with kirino’s work, everything is very stark and grim, but nonetheless fascinating. i must have more of her books. or learn to read in japanese.
Dirty Girls On Top — by Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez — i waited for this book, and knowing i would be bored and bookless after going through the last four i broke down and bought it. now, i’m considering returning it. or selling it or something. i dunno. i had a soft spot for the author and her first book, the dirty girl’s social club. because on a lot of levels we agree on a number of things, and it’s a boston-transplant viewpoint that i can get in line with. however, sometimes she takes things too far. she wants to be a ‘chic-lit’ author but is so wrapped up in this whole ‘latina’ identity that she can’t just write for the sake of writing, even going so far as to call her work ‘chica-lit’ yet getting up in arms when reviewers and such call her a latina author. so much that she’s going to start writing under a pen name with non-latina characters. why all that extra trouble, i’ll never know. a character is a character, a writer is a writer, end of story.
but for some people, i guess that is not so. and all that other garbage aside, it is refreshing to see some work about some strong, intelligent, successful latina women. until you open the book and realize all the sucias are emotional/physical wrecks and really not all that likable. most of them are ignorant of basic truths and more than a little bit racist. they’re very real, very messed up, and very out of hand. the big thing that must be driven home is they are “latina” like it’s a shield you can hold up against yourself and declare to the world. really, they’re just a bunch of out of hand women. it wouldn’t matter if they were white or haitian or indian or swedish or korean or whatever. the author constantly harps on equality and how mistreated her latina protagonists are in the face of racism and people who can only see color, but she paints some seriously misguided pictures of the world at large. and in her quest to make sure latinas are treated equally, she’s awfully racist and anti-white. or, “non-hispanic-white”. meh.
also, this book had some glaring mistakes compared to the last one. a few spelling errors, and completely was rushed and disjointed. there’s a lot of backstory and a LOT going on with the sucias (sucia = dirty girl) but in much less time, it seems. the book is much weaker than it’s predecessor and doesn’t have a decent framework. plus, she introduces a new character voice and abruptly drops it, out of nowhere! it feels rushed. things that have been building up since the first book are swept aside or hastily resolved and it leaves you feeling ripped off (especially if you paid for a lousy hardcover).
all in all, i’m conflicted. a lot of the author’s characters are the standard chic-lit ladies who cannot be satisfied without a man/baby and were most likely mistreated by their fathers. it’s the eternal chic lit cliché. and it’s tiresome. also, worst offender EVER of the whole brand-name, product-placement, materialistic shout-out. sigh. dirty girls on top is largely an advertisement.
