I don't like to say I 'hate' a book. It seems hasty, even somewhat vitriolic, and sounds like the worst kind of hyperbole. But quite often I meet with books I don't like very much, or don't appreciate, or want to throw against a wall. These are my six for 2006:
- On Beauty by Zadie Smith - I don't think my feelings about this years' Orange Prize winner are much of a secret. When I read it I thought it was pretty rubbish - unoriginal, pretentious and sloppily written - and I said so, loud and clear (...perhaps with some of that hyperbole that I shy away from now?) In the fullness of time, my honesty provoked a comment from Zadie Smith herself, and a smattering of discussion in the blogosphere about the critical role of a reviewer or litblogger. Incidentally, something else I've learnt during my first year as a litblogger is how many authors, including the great and the good, 'google' themselves. I find this both amusing and disillusioning. Could it be that world-famous novelists are human beings, always hungry for praise, ever fearful of censure?
- Dreams of Speaking by Gail Jones - I very much enjoyed writing this post about what I thought was a thoroughly ridiculous novel. Crushed by its own verbiage and solipsistic to a fault, it epitomised my ever troubled relationship with contemporary fiction. As a 'genre' (if it is such a thing) it often walks a fine line between meaning and silliness; Dreams of Speaking is waaaaay over that line, almost as far west as the Realm of Farce. To be fair to Jones I've heard that her first novel, Sixty Lights, is much better balanced and that Dreams of Speaking is something of an aberration in comparison. Not that I'll be rushing out to try it.
- How to Read a Novel: A User's Guide by John Sutherland - Almost immediately after I'd finished reading this poor excuse for a reading companion the name Sutherland was made infamous in litblogging circles by this article about web-reviewing (which appeared in the always-conservative pages of the Daily Telegraph). Safe to say my disliking his book has nothing to do with this display of extroadinary snobbery, although it confirms my first impression of him: Sutherland writes as though he, and only he, were an authority on reading. Assuring his (more than likely well-read) audience that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover (except when you should)? A tad condescending methinks.
- Prep by Curtis Sittenfield - I know that I stand almost alone in disliking this novel, which was hailed far and wide as a fine, precise debut, but nevertheless... I'm indisposed to enjoy novels that glut on teenage angst and then go nowhere; I can observe them as 'portraits' but get little more than that. (I disliked that great classic of teenage alienation, The Catcher in the Rye, too. Ugh.) It's evidently one of reading blindspots.
- Rape: A Love Story by Joyce Carol Oates - Another blindspot perhaps? As I explained in my post on this book, I don't particularly like single issue/diatribe novels; they seem to negate the strength of the form itself, which is to provide various thematic angles. I also found the vigilante ethic very distasteful.
- Finally, Seven Lies by James Lasdun - A short novel, with a spot on the Booker longlist, that bored me so thoroughly and impressed me so litte that I never got around to blogging about it. As it is I remember only the saliant points: a man and his wife escape East Germany and arrive in America masquarading as radicals. Man has not really earned radical credentials; man feels bad; man takes action against his own badness. I dragged myself to the end because it was so short, but was glad I only borrowed the hardback from the library.
And then there are the two books that might well have made the list if I'd had the strength of will to read them to finish them: Claire Messud's The Emperor's Children, which inspired me to put it down after only 50 pages, and Claire Allen's Poppy Shakespeare, which is on the Guardian's First Book shortlist, but left me cold after half a dozen chapters.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If I don't post again until after Christmas (more than likely), I hope you enjoy the holiday season, whether you celebrate a religious festival or not: eat far too much, be merry and get massive piles of books for presents. :-)
~~Victoria~~