News for 2/28.

• This is precisely the reason why I attempt to avoid actual sex scenes at all costs. This one is good for a sex scene, which really just means it’s only a little terrible. But while we’re considering it, take a look at this guy… I mean, who wouldn’t want to have even bad sex with Steve Almond, especially being the kind of guy who would write a book entitled My Life in Heavy Metal?

• Raise your hand if you think this is funny. Anyone? Yeah, me either, but I think he had it coming.

• Okay, see, now this is moderately amusing. But really, McSweeney’s does it to me every time.

• A memoir–or is it?–about the lack of relationship between a father and son. I admit, the idea of the book is interesting to me, but this article is highly irritating as it constantly alludes to without every directly mentioning the James Frey scandal.

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Interesting news.

• I voted yes. I enjoy feeling superior to common readers.

• Oh, man… This is so not okay with me… and a bazillion other people. But I always knew Dan Brown would get what’s coming to him.

• What an injustice. Hemingway runs out of stories and shoots himself. Grisham runs out of stories… and turns to non-fiction.

I will shoot the next person to mention Dan Brown James Frey Dan Brown.

JB: Archibald MacLeish

 

It's actually a play, based on the story of Job. I had to read it for Suffering & Evil with Dr. Cain.

All I really have to say about it is that it's pretty fascinating to read an age-old story like that of Job in a new way. It's actually kind of heart-wrenching.

THREE STARS.

The Exorcist (Part II).

Finally, at the age of eleven, my dad allowed me to watch “Psycho“… and I was furious.  My father had informed me that nothing is scarier than “Psycho”, and if that was as scary as it got, what was the point?  Was I already a true badass at the tender age of eleven?  (The answer, by the way, is a big fat no to this day.)  So my parents didn’t stop me from setting up the VCR to record a showing of “The Exorcist” on TV while I was in school… not that they could if they had wanted to, as I was the only member of the family who knew how to use the VCR.  (I swear, my dogs could figure out the VCR/DVD player before my parents could.)

THE EXORCIST: William Peter Blatty (Part I)

 

I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey… But that's "The Rocky Horror Picture Show".

I have a long and involved past with "The Exorcist", much like other people may have with an ex-lover. If you want the long story short–the book review and nothing more–here you go:

FIVE STARS based on "enjoyability". But do not attempt to compare it to the movie. In my personal opinion, it is a wonderful suspense/thriller novel that happened to translate into a stupendous horror movie. I'm almost inclined to say that the book has more depth, or at least more obvious depth to it than the movie does. (Oh, but I could go on about the movie forever.) Admittedly, his dialogue drives me crazy and the scenes where Chris thinks to herself are actually mildly painful for me, but the description I think is fantastic and the plot itself is, of course, mind-blowing. I cried at the end of the book; it's actually quite touching. When it comes down to it, I admit I'm a little biased due to my predisposition to enjoy any- and everything on the topic, but the author's picture isn't hanging in my room for no reason.

Now for my long involvement with Regan Teresa McNeil:

A MOVEABLE FEAST: Ernest Hemingway

 

Another book for Brady's American Literary Autobiography class. I'm sure these are all I'm going to be reading for a while.

Well, serve me up a big ol' slice of humble pie. When I was thirteen years old, I was force-fed The Old Man and the Sea, which of course went right over my head for the most part. I coincidentally happened to learn some very vague details of Hemingway's life around the same time. Having it in my head that he was both a misogynist and a pompous ass while he was alive, I felt justified in despising The Old Man and the Sea, despite the fact that I still didn't have a damn clue what it was about. I never bothered to read any Hemingway again, with the exception of In Our Time years later for Foss's Global Issues in Literature.

Having had a nice, seven-year break from Hemingway, I can safely say that this book kicked ass. My father has always had a problem with the great detail Hemingway uses to describe food and drink–he thinks it's pointless–which he also does in his autobiography, and I actually enjoyed it. You have to give the man some credit when he can make a café au lait sound as fascinating as Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie's wedding cake. I'm not usually big on descriptions, but I love his because they're so simple, yet I was completely drawn in.

Maybe it's because I understand Hemingway better now, or rather I understand what to expect from him, that I enjoyed this book so much. You could say that the "plot" is his struggle to write and survive at the same time, but it's an autobiography. He should be so lucky as to have a plot for his life. But as an aspiring writer, I ate up every single word that had anything to do with how the writing process went for him.

It also amused me when he would make reference to other famous writers as his friends: the oh-so-very-kind Ezra Pound, the glamorous James Joyce, the wise and stodgy Gertrude Stein, and the childish-yet-somehow-endearing Scott Fitzgerald, not to mention an elaborate plan to save TS Eliot from his torturous day job. As one with great interest in each one of these figures, I gobbled up every detail of their adventures.

FOUR STARS

SPEAK, MEMORY: Vladimir Nabokov

 

I read this for Brady's American Literary Autobiography class, which means that it was read with a deadline looming over me. And those who know me know how well I do with deadlines. This is why I despise required reading (though I grudgingly acknowledge that it is necessary): you can either fully enjoy the book or finish it on time. At least, that tends to be how it works for me, as I am a painfully slow reader.

I absorbed enough of the book to know that the writing was beautiful and it was interesting for me as it would be for any fan of his. Not exactly a beach read, it deserves a good deal of time and/or focus and/or patience. It's unfortunate for this very reason that I am unable to reread a book: this would be a book to reread.

THREE STARS

Beginning the second novel… for the eighth week in a row.

Like I keep saying, I can’t wait to start writing this next novel finally. But see, the thing about that is… I would have to… like… write it.

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