bookshelves of doom

Jennifer Government -- Max Barry

It's not that far off. For real!

Steve will have to remind me how he felt about Jennifer Government, because I LOVED it.

It certainly helped that I began the book with a great attitude about it, after having read the 'About the Author', which starts:

Max Barry is an Australian, for which he apologizes. He is the author of the cult hit Syrup, although he spelled his name "Maxx" for that novel, "because it seemed like a funny joke about marketing, and I failed to realize everyone would assume I was a pretentious asshole."

There was also Author's Note before the actual novel starts, in which he covers his butt from lawsuits. So the author himself seems like a good egg.

The story is set mostly in Australia in the not-so-distant future. Taxes have been abolished throughout a good half of the world. The Government exists, but in a crime-prevention capacity. If someone wants the Government to go after a murderer, thief, etc., that person has to fund the operation. People take the last names of the companies that they work for. Schools are run by companies like Mattel and McDonald's. No job, no last name, effectively not a real person in most people's eyes. After all, who's going to protect you if you don't have your employer to turn to?

Everything starts when Hack Nike, a lowly Merchandise Distribution Officer, (who I pictured as the main character in Office Space--the similarities become more apparent later on in the book) is approached by two guys, both named John Nike, and railroaded into signing a contract without reading it first.

"Now. What do you know about Nike Mercurys?"

Hack blinked. "They're our latest product. I haven't actually seen a pair, but...I heard they're great."

The Johns smiled. "We started selling Mercurys six months ago. You know how many pairs we've shifted since then?"

Hack shook his head. They cost thousands of dollars a pair, but that wouldn't stop people from buying them. They were the hottest sneakers in the world. "A million?"

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred million?"

"No. Two hundred pairs."

"John here," the other John said, pioneered the concept of marketing by refusing to sell any products. It drives the market insane."

"And now it's time to cash in. On Friday we're gonna dump four hundred thousand pairs on the market at two and a half grand each."

"Which, since they cost us--what was it?"

"Eighty-five."

"Since they cost us eighty-five cents to manufacture, gives us a gross margin of around one million dollars." He looked at Vice-President John. "It's a brilliant campaign."

"It's really just common sense," John said. "But here's the thing, Hack: if people realize every mall in the country's got Mercurys, we'll lose all that prestige we've worked so hard to build. Am I right?"

"Yeah." Hack hoped he sounded confident. He didn't really understand marketing.

"So you know what we're going to do?"

He shook his head.

"We're going to shoot them, " Vice-President John said. "We're going to kill anyone who buys a pair."

Awesome. Awesome, awesome book. I loved it, I'm going to hunt down Syrup ASAP, and I'm going to hopehopehope that they make this one into a movie. Because it would be a kick-ass movie.

The Sunday Philosophy Club -- Alexander McCall Smith

I've given in to peer pressure. Everybody else reads them, so I decided to finally try an Alexander McCall Smith book.

Granted it wasn't one of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency books. I read the new one, The Sunday Philosophy Club, which is also the beginning of a new series about a woman named Isabel Dalhousie.

It took me a while to get into--I'm not really used to mysteries (with a few exceptions, of course) in which the main character/detective is soooo emotionally connected to the crime. Not in a 'someone killed my wife/husband/kid/second cousin' kind of way, or in any of the other normal ways that mystery authors connect their characters to the crime. No, Isabel goes to the opera and sees a young man fall from the top balcony. And they make eye contact as he falls, and she knows that he was pushed. It wasn't the connection itself that bothered me--the set-up was fine--my problem was that she spent so much time being depressed and philosophizing about this poor, squished boy that it took quite some time for things to get going.

At first, Isabel really irritated me--again, the constant philosophizing. (Yes, I realize that the title maybe should have tipped me off). But she grew on me. Pretty early on, actually, when I realized that despite all of her pondering about morality, etc., she could be plenty nasty (granted, only in her head, but somehow that's even funnier) when confronted with someone she didn't like:

"Max and Morris," said Isabel. "Two German boys. The very first comic-book characters. They got up to all sorts of mischief and were eventually chopped into pieces by a baker and made into biscuits."

She looked at Toby. Max and Morris had fallen into the baker's flour vat and had been put into a mixing machine. The biscuits into which they had been made were eventually eaten by ducks. Such a Germanic idea, she thought; and for a moment she imagined that this might happen to Toby, tumbling into such a machine and being made into biscuit.

"You're smiling," said Cat.

"Not intentionally," said Isabel hurriedly. Did one ever mean to smile?

Eventually, though, things do get going. Stuff happens, Isabel investigates. I liked the characters, and I'll definitely read the next book in the series, when it comes out. Really, all the book suffered from was the 'pilot episode' problem--too much time introducing the characters and their motivations and problems and beliefs and interests and blah blah blah, and not enough actual story. At the beginning, anyway. By the end, I really did like it. Really.

Hot Six -- Janet Evanovich

Can't... Stop... Reading Stephanie Plum books.

It's true. What is it with these books? They're like crack.

This time, it's Ranger that's FTA. Yeah--like Stephanie has a prayer. High points: more with Joyce Barnhardt, Stephanie and Lula catching an FTA at a Trekkie party, lots of dog poop, and Stephanie's new roomate, Grandma Mazur.

More books should contain this sentence:

The next morning, Grandma and I were both hung over.

It made me do the laugh-so-hard-that-I-shake-the-bed-and-wake-Josh-up thing. Actually, so did the poop parts. What can I say? I'm immature.

Princess in Pink -- Meg Cabot

Whatever. I'll read the Princess Diaries books, but what I really want is the new Mediator.

Princess Diaries #5, or Princess in Pink took a while to get going. It was only around page thirty or so that Grandmere made her appearence. (At this point, she's the main reason that I keep reading this series. She's so horrible--I love her).

"You cannot ask HIM," Grandmere said. "How many times do I have to tell you, Amelia? Men are like little woodland creatures. You have to lure them to you with tiny breadcrumbs and soft words of encouragement. You cannot simply whip out a rock and conk them on the head with it."

(See? She rules).

So yeah, Mia wants to go to the prom, Michael doesn't. Blah blah--oh, the agony.

Once all hell breaks loose at Mia's birthday dinner due to Grandmere's hairless dog running around the resturant and everyone thinking he's a rat, leading to a busboy getting unfairly fired, leading to some entertaining Lilly action, things get crazier and more entertaining. Less whining and more doing. Also, Mia refers to Pretty in Pink a whole lot--and she agrees with me about Molly Ringwald's horrible destruction of the wonderful Annie Potts dress:

Pretty in Pink: Will Molly Ringwald go to the prom with the cute rich boy or the poor weird boy? Whichever one she goes with, does she really think he's going to like that hideous pink potato sack of a dress she makes?

It's always nice to find out that you weren't the only one who felt the pain.

Ibid: A Life -- Mark Dunn

Disastrous Reading - or, What caused my reading slump.

Quite a while back, I read and loved Mark Dunn's Ella Minnow Pea. Imagine my happiness when I discovered that the library had another book by him--Ibid: A Life. Imagine my dismay when I discovered, 76 pages in, that I just couldn't read another page.

I should have known better--any book that consists only of footnotes of another (fictitious) book is bound to be annoying. It did have some really, really funny moments--looking back through the book, I marked a lot of pages. But ultimately, even with all of the funny bits, I wanted to find Mark Dunn and shake him. Or throw the book across the room. (Neither of which I did, because a) I don't know Mark Dunn, and b) it was a library book). I settled for returning the book to the library.

It wasn't that it was badly written. I just usually can't stand books that seem to be aware of themselves. (This is also why I can't stand Denzel Washington--I always get the feeling that he is playing Denzel Washington playing someone else. Hmmmmm. I might not be explaining this very well). I don't like it when I can imagine the author sitting at his desk, looking at a finished page, and chuckling, "I am so bloody clever. This will slay my readers." (This is why I can only read Tom Robbins once in a very great while. And Kurt Vonnegut, for that matter. Although Vonnegut strikes me as extremely crotchety, and less pleased with himself, so I don't find him as annoying).

Maybe Welcome to Higby will be better.

Nothing to Lose -- Alex Flinn High Five -- Janet Evanovich

Two books that were just more of the same.

I read the newest Alex Flinn book, Nothing to Lose a little while ago. It was good, but honestly, how many domestic abuse books can one person write? (Actually, she's only written two that I know of; Breathing Underwater is the other one. Breaking Point looks completely different--and really good). It isn't that they're bad books--they're well written, plotted, etc. But they're somehow still the same. It's weird that Chris Crutcher can write book after book, all of them dealing in some way with some form of abuse, and every single one of them is different and wonderfully good.

I did like the stuff about carnival folk and the way they create family. I'll have to read Geek Love soon.

The fifth Stephanie Plum book, High Five, was just more of the same. More of the funny, crazy, totally entertaining same. I was not happy to see that Ramirez made a comeback. Ick.

Chasing Vermeer -- Blue Balliett

Da Vinci Code for kids, minus the controversial religious stuff.

I read Chasing Vermeer quite a while ago, and I've kind of been putting off writing about it. It was good, sure, but I didn't love it--I certainly didn't think that it was mindblowingly great or anything. What it really made me want to do more than anything else was read Girl with a Pearl Earring. Or watch the movie again. (Mmmmmmm... Colin Firth...)

This is the letter that starts it all:

Dear Friend:

I would like your help in identifying a crime that is now centuries old. The crime has wronged one of the world's greatest painters. As those in positions of authority are not brave enough to correct this error, I have taken it upon myself to reveal the truth. I have chosen you because of your discriminating eye, your intelligence, and your ability to think outside of convention.

If you wish to help me, you will be amply rewarded for any risks you take.

You may not show this letter to anyone. Two other people in the world have received this document tonight. Although you may never meet, the three of you will work together in ways none of us can predict.

If you show this letter to the authorities, you will most certainly be placing your life in danger.

You will know how to respond. I congratulate you on your pursuit of justice.

The book is full of codes, puzzles, and I didn't figure out the answer before reading the solution. There is quite a bit of discussion of Picasso's quote, "Art is the lie that tells the truth," which was great. Even though it wasn't my favorite book ever, it would made a good book group or classroom choice because of all of the possibilities for discussion.

(The website is pretty fun--you can play pentominos, which figure into the story pretty heavily). I do think it's worth reading, but maybe not worth running out and buying the hardcover.

Away Laughing on a Fast Camel - Louise Rennison

More on Enid Blyton.

In the newest Louise Rennison book, Away Laughing on a Fast Camel (which was wonderful, by the way, and if you like the Bridget Jones books at all you should read them), Georgia talks about Enid Blyton in the glossary:

japes : Enid Blyton wrote children's books about the Famous Five in the 1950s. These five complete wets had lots of "japes" and "jolly wheezes." If, for instance, they hid behind the door and then leapt out to surprise their parents, that would be a "wizard jape." I think you get the picture of what extraordinarily crap books they were.

She's so right. They are totally crap books. Yet, they have this crazy, crazy rabid following. Of course, I should probably admit that whenever I find Blyton books at used bookstores, I buy them. But mostly I do it out of spite, so that the Blyton fanatics can't get them.

I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith (cont'd)

I am no longer a Bad Person.

I finished I Capture the Castle. And I continued to love it, all the way through. Not only will fans of the Anne books like it, but also fans of Austen. There are quite a few mentions of our Miss Austen (particularly Pride and Predjudice) in Cassandra's journal--not surprising, considering everything that happens. Plotwise, I think that Dodie Smith might have been (up to a point) channeling Jane Austen. How lovely. Sigh. They really don't write 'em like this anymore.

Cassandra is seventeen years old, and determined to be a writer. She is keeping a journal, partly to practice speed-writing, and partly to teach herself how to write a novel. She lives with her father, who wrote a critically acclaimed book called Jacob Wrestling, but who hasn't written a line since. Everyone blames his inability to write on his brief stint in jail:

We were living in a small house by the sea at the time. Father had just joined us after his second American lecture tour. One afternoon when we were having tea in the garden, he had the misfortune to lose his temper with mother very noisily just as he was about to cut a piece of cake. He brandished the cake-knife at her so menacingly that an officious neighbor jumped the garden fence to intervene and got himself knocked down. Father explained in court that killing a woman with our silver cake-knife would be a long, weary business entailing sawing her to death, and he was completely exonerated of any intention of slaying mother. The whole case seems to have been quite ludicrous, with everyone but the neighbour being very funny. But father made the mistake of being funnier than the judge and, as there was no doubt whatever that he had seriously damaged the neighbour, he was sent to prison for three months.

Cassandra also lives with her older sister, Rose, who is very beautiful, but who is very unhappy with their living situation.

I have just remarked to Rose that our situation is really rather romantic--two girls in this strange and lonely house. She replied that she saw nothing romantic about being shut up in a crumbling ruin surrounded by a sea of mud.

The household is rounded out by Topaz, the stepmother (who is wonderful), and Stephen, the boy who does work around the place for room & board. Stephen, incidentally, is amazingly handsome, devastatingly poor, and madly in love with Cassandra.

As if things aren't entertaining (or confusing--for the characters, I mean, not the reader) enough, the owner of the castle (they are just renting it) dies. And the man who inherits it is young, rich, brilliantly witty, very handsome and every other good thing. To make things even more interesting, he has a younger, not-rich, brilliantly witty, sarcastic (and yes, handsome) brother.

I am so glad that I own this book. I'm going to read it over and over again until it falls apart. And then I'm going to buy another copy.

The Well of Lost Plots -- Jasper Fforde

Why do I keep reading the Jasper Fforde books when I really, really don't care about the main character?

Because of all the other stuff. And I'm going to warn you right now, these books are so amazingly book-geeky that I'm almost embarrassed to admit to reading them.

In the third installment (and I will warn you right now--DO NOT try to read these books out of order) of the Thursday Next series, Thursday is hiding out in The Well of Lost Plots, due to events in the previous book. To add to this difficult situation, she is pregnant, her husband no longer exists, no one even remembers that he DID exist except for her, the book that she's hiding in is scheduled for demolition, and someone may be trying to kill her.

Like I said, though--I couldn't care less about Thursday Next. (Although, I will admit, she's growing on me). The fun thing about these books is that all of the people she works with are fictional characters. Her mentor in Jurisfiction is Great Expectation's Miss Havisham (who has a few on-going feuds--one with the Red Queen (they have a great fight in the second book over a rare edition), and one with Mr. Toad, who, like Miss Havisham, has a major need for speed).

Even if I had hated the rest of the book, the chapter dealing with Miss Havisham having to run an anger-management session with the characters from Wuthering Heights would have made it all worthwhile:

"The Council of Genres has decreed that you will attend the sessions, Heathcliff," said Havisham coldly. "If this book is to survive, we have to control the emotions within it; as it is, the novel is three times more barbaric than when first penned--left to its own devices it won't be long before murder and mayhem start to take over completely--remember what happened to that once gentle comedy of manners Titus Andronicus? It's now the daftest, most cannibalistic blood fest in the whole of Shakespeare. Heights will go the same way unless you can all somehow contain your anger and resentment!"

"I don't want to be made into a pie!" moaned Linton.

There's also a chapter about Thursday having to patch up some problems in an Enid Blyton novel. (I can't stand Enid Blyton books, and it was perfect. Perfect). I laughed so hard that I snorted, and then Josh asked me what was going on. I explained, and he said, "Well. That is a nerdy book, isn't it?"

So anyway. I refuse to give this series my wholehearted seal of approval, because I still don't think that Fforde's original creations are that great. But, the books are really clever. If you're a huge book-nerd, you'd probably get a kick out of them. And then you'll be addicted. Like me.

I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith

I am a Bad Person.

Most people know that I am not modest about my book knowledge (well, specifically my young adult book knowledge), which makes the following confession all the more difficult.

I have never read I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith.

I started it this morning, and I love it so much that I'm mad that I've never read it before. (Horrors! I could be enjoying my thirteenth or fourteenth reading of the book, rather than constantly kicking myself for ignoring it for so long!)

Although I am only three pages in (and I NEVER do this--except at the moment, obviously), I'm going to tell you right now: this book rules. RULES. If you at all like the Anne of Green Gables series, you will like this book. As I continue to read it, I'm sure that I'll come up with more, but come on, give me a break, I'm only three pages in. And I can't wait to read the rest of it. Thankfully, I have the day off tomorrow.

As I read books, I usually mark the pages (with a torn up piece of paper--I do NOT write in books) that I think might be quote-worthy. All three pages that I've read are already marked. Including the first sentence:

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.

How could that beginning fail to grab? I LOVE this book. More on it when I've finished.