Here's a post I should have done about a month ago, but there have been some ups and downs (quite a few downs, actually) that made me want to wallow and read but not write. Books have been a good companion these last few months. So, here are the books I read to close out 2012.
34. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
This was the first of my commute audiobooks, and it was an excellent choice because it kept me awake. Driving back and forth to Evansville (IL 13 to Harrisburg, then 45 through Eldorado, then 141/62 all the way to USI) didn't afford much scenic entertainment, and scanning through the radio stations got old fast. So what better way to spend 3 hours a day than wandering through a post-apocalyptic America with a non-descript father and son, referred to merely as "the man" and "the boy"?
Something terrible has happened. The earth has been ravaged and decimated. And all the reader can do is wander and starve with the two main characters, wondering when (and what) their next meal will be, whether the various evil factions will catch up with them, whether disease or a simple mistake will be the end of the father and son. Their anonymity makes the story universal: they could be any father and son. They could be your brother and his child, they could be your neighbor, your coworker, an acquaintance. A stranger.
I could call the book suspenseful, but the suspense was not about the events of the narrative so much as a quiet, all-consuming dread for the fate of the characters. I had no illusions about whether they would survive; it was more about the drama of not knowing exactly how or when they would die. But I wanted to know what would happen. Having the story read to me, though, meant I had a harder time anticipating the really devastating moments, like when the boy would ask, once again, whether or not he was going to die. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, because there were days I couldn't stop myself from crying over the horrors of the book. I'd read it again, though.
35. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote
This is a case where the title is simultaneously apt and lacking: the book recounts the true story of the murder of 4 members of the Clutter family of Holcomb, Kansas in 1959, a cold-blooded crime; however, at the same time, the phrase has become so cliche that it doesn't do justice to just how senseless the act was, or how cold the killers. The storytelling was disarming, in that it seemed so casual, so clearly fictionalized--I had to keep reminding myself that the events were real, that this was a real family brutally killed in the the night in their own home.
I've never read this kind of true-crime book, but I tend to watch these kinds of television shows and documentaries. Reading it was somehow worse; reading it before bed each night was probably incredibly foolish. I had some pretty gruesome murder nightmares, but they were in the same matter-of-fact style as the book, which was even more unsettling.
36. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
My next audiobook selection was a lush gothic suspense story with quite a bit of book-love in it. A bookseller's daughter and novice biographer gets the chance to hear the life story of a famous and reclusive author, who has a history of lying about her past. The book unfolded with a satisfying number of plot twists and haunting (but not quite ghostly) elements, and some really beautiful language that helped me get through some of the grayer days of my drive.
37. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
I'll admit it: I'm a bad English major, because I had never read Frankenstein before. I was fascinated by the concept, and how a young writer in the 19th century would explain a reassembled, reanimated corpse. But I'm an even worse English major because I was so bored with it. I understood the reason behind the epistolary form, but reading it was tedious and drawn out. I frequently fell asleep after reading only a few pages. I struggled to keep going. And although I read 3/4 of this admittedly short book, I didn't finish. If anything, though, it helped me understand what might make high school students permanently turn away from reading: if everything they read are canonical classics from the 19th and early 20th centuries, of course they're going to assume that books are full of antiquated, stilted language--that books are boring. That books can offer them nothing.
38. The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak
If anyone is looking for a young adult book that's not sci-fi/fantasy and has some historical elements to it, I'd definitely recommend this one. Set in Nazi Germany and narrated by Death himself, the book follows Liesel Meminger through early adolescence. In addition to the larger turbulence of the war, the story shows Liesel becoming an orphan, learning to read, dealing with school, and beginning to ask questions about humanity on both a small scale and in a broader sense. I expected it to be emotionally charged, since it takes place during WWII, but I didn't expect it to be so funny at times. Liesel's relationship with her best friend, a boy named Rudy, is both endearing and tragic. I think this one deserves a place alongside the Diary of Anne Frank in terms of teaching middle schoolers about life during WWII.
39. My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler
After reading/listening to so much "heavy" material, I needed something lighter--something that wouldn't give me nightmares. It was 25 cents at the Carbondale Public Library book sale, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. But here's the thing: I don't find Chelsea Handler particularly funny. I've only seen her a handful of times in various contexts on TV, and I've never been too impressed with her brand of humor. While I did laugh from time to time while reading the ridiculous descriptions of her sexcapades, I also felt like I must be a slut-shaming prude or something for thinking she's basically a crass, attention-starved bag of sadness. I kept mentally saying to her: You have a lot of unapologetic one night stands. I get it. Good for you, if that's what you're after. I can't relate too much. Where's the funny? At least I never have to read it again. Anyone want a book? FREE!
40. American Gods by Neil Gaiman
I probably should have checked out the print version of this, rather than trying to listen to the audiobook, because I got through barely half of it before I had to turn it back in, and I couldn't renew it because it came from an out-of-system library. I think it was something like 19 discs! It's a slow starter, in that the first quarter of the book is so expository and boring. Things were just starting to get interesting and weird when I had to return it. The other issue with this is I love mythology and the idea of cultural archetypes passed down through fantasy stories, but there were so many things I wanted to look up while listening, but couldn't because I was driving. I couldn't even take notes. I have a feeling when I do read it, there will be a lot of marginalia and notetaking. The back stories supporting the larger story were fascinating, and I want to know where it all ended up. Too bad it coincided with a really busy time in the semester.
41. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
I tend to love books about books, reading, writing, libraries, storytelling...you get the picture. One of the big ideas from this one was that if a book has a reader, the author and the story lives on. The main story is that of a young boy, Daniel, who "adopts" a book by an obscure author named Julian Carax. Daniel sets out to learn a great deal about the writer and his life, and ends up becoming dangerously entangled in searching for the truth. The story-within-the-story unfolds as Daniel gets snippets of information about the Carax however he can. The execution of this, however, is quite melodramatic--verging on the kinds of plot devices soap operas use. It didn't help that the audiobook featured schmaltzy piano interludes under some of the narration, which caused me to roll my eyes strenuously. Some of the plot twists felt downright cheap, the whole art imitating life imitating art imitating life, because Daniel's life choices/consequences often repeat or mirror those of Carax, and Carax based his book on his own life. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, but it probably would have been better on the page than in the ear.
42. The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory
Yup, I still get a kick out of hating on Henry VIII and how he was basically a megalomaniac jerk. Gregory's writing isn't great, but it's passable enough that the book was entertaining (and a relatively quick read). I don't know how historically accurate it is in terms of the small details, but that's not why I read it in the first place.
43. Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me? And Other Concerns by Mindy Kaling
I drove to Kansas City for Thanksgiving with my parents and younger brother (Aaron stayed in Illinois because he had to work), so I wanted to make sure I had plenty of entertainment for the hundreds of miles I'd be driving. And I'm glad I chose to listen to this one before I listened to Tina Fey's book, because otherwise I would have been so much more disappointed with Kaling.
A little back story: we watch The Office. We like it quite a bit--to the point where certain bits or jokes or snippets of dialogue have lodged in our brains, but not to the level of frequently quoting to it/referring to it. We enjoy the show, but it's hard to tell how much of it is due to any of Kaling's contributions as a writer or performer. Thus, I went into the experience of listening to Kaling's book expecting there to be funny moments, but not necessarily laugh-out-loud-funny.
While I did enjoy hearing her talk about her path to television writing and comedy, as well as he experiences in the industry, it also felt like she was trying really hard to live up to the hype and not quite doing it. It was good, but not great--like when you run out of everything bagels and have to eat plain instead. And Mindy Kaling knows this: the introduction to her audiobook acknowledges that Tina Fey is ultimately more awesome. But you know what? That's okay. Like her character on The Office, I think she likes to hear herself talk, so I'm sure she thought the book was witty and hilarious.
44. Bossypants by Tina Fey
I think I listened to this audiobook three times all the way through. I had to pause it at times to laugh, once with the horrified thought that I was going to pee my pants because I was laughing so hard. Tina Fey is a hilarious human being, and I have loved her since she started on SNL doing Weekend Update. She's witty, wise, nerdy, and real. I'd pay full price for this book (and I never, ever pay full price for books). And Mindy Kaling was so right to downplay the hilarity of her own book in comparison to Tina Fey's; what Kaling should have said, though, is that she basically used Tina Fey's book as an outline for her own, without having the substance or life experience to back it up. Tina Fey needs to write more books (and stop doing things like Baby Mama--you're better than that, Tina Fey!).
45. Wicked by Gregory Maguire
I don't know how many times I've read this book since buying it for $2 at a yard sale in 2005, but it was so worth it. And this time, I was re-reading it because I finally managed to pick up the sequel, Son of a Witch, at a thrift store while I was in Kansas City. I read a few pages of the sequel and realized I probably should go back to the beginning, since it had been awhile since my last reading of Wicked. It holds up. I think it helps if you spent your childhood feeling terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West by intrigued by her capacity for evil (and bewildered by her aversion to water).
