Thursday, September 24, 2009

17) Marisha Pessl's "Literary Pyrotechnics"



Book Read: Special Topics in Calamity Physics
Author: Marisha Pessl
Pages: 514
Method of Acquisition: Harrison was over one night. We were pre-drinking some lousy wine left over from my wedding (Vat #7, if I recall correctly.) She passed me Special Topics ("I liked it! I want it back!" she said) and What is the What? ("Blegh. Just keep it," she said.)
As I Write This Hasty Blog, I Am Listening To: The Wind Whistles.

Blue van Meer is a reclusive, brilliant teenager who moves to a mountain town in North Carolina with her eccentric, mysterious literary giant of a dad. She develops a strange and instant connection with her beautiful, mysterious English teacher Hannah Schneider, who invites her to her own personal version of the Algonquin Table with a quirky cabal of kids she quickly dubs "The Bluebloods." The events that follow are rendered in joyfully reference-laden language (every chapter is named after a Great Novel and references to both high and low culture are sprinkled through the narrative like blueberries on cornflakes, and yet the story never feels dated---an impressive achievement in itself.) I found that mentally I needed to be firing on all cylinders in order to unearth the intriguing plot---this is a novel where truly nothing is as it seems. Although the end of the book is a little unsatisfying (MAYBE SPOILER ALERT: After nearly 400 pages of buildup, I was expecting some bigger revelations about two of the book's key characters) the journey is rich and delightful, and you'll linger over some of the book's more humorous and elegant passages for long minutes, wishing you had the same ability to turn a phrase so cleverly.


I've reached my word limit, and I think this was kind of a sucky review in terms of letting you know what you're in for, so I will let a passage from Pessl's tome speak for itself. Here, Blue describes her childhood crush on her dad's gardener, Andreo. Here, you will see an example of the embedded referencing that takes place throughout the novel (using both real and invented books by experts.) You can see how it would be exhausting, but it's also wholly unique and kick-starts the reader into wakefulness.

His name was Andreo Verduga, and he was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen (see "Panther," Glorious Predators of the Natural World, Goodwin, 1987.) He was tan, with black hair, gypsy eyes, and from what I could deduce from my upstairs bedroom window, a torso smooth as a river rock. He was from Peru. He wore heavy cologne and spoke in the language of an old-fashioned telegram.
HOW DO YOU DO STOP NICE DAY STOP WHERE IS HOSE STOP.


It's cute, right? Special Topics is for all the weirdo, bookish girls who wore the wrong clothes in high school, and the pale boys who made fun of the jocks but still secretly wished they had more friends. This book will make your fine hearts sing.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

This Slow Tomato's Gonna KETCHUP!

I realized if I keep writing these long essay-style reviews and boring you to death, I will never get caught up on the hideous backlog that trails me around this apartment like my cats when I forget to feed them. It's a prison of expectations, people, and I'm getting locked in by FAILURE. So I decided it would be best to do bunch of mini-reviews in order to play catchup. I decided I would limit myself to five sentences per book - a bit like Ten Word Reviews, but more long-winded, completely unedited, and emphatically BLARGH-y. I hope to have them all posted by Thursday. There will be an update about where I'm at, reading-wise, at the end of the last mini-review, because I know you're hanging on tenterhooks in WAIT. OKAY. LET'S DO THIS.

16) Life Is A...Highway?




Book Read: The Road
Author: Cormac McCarthy
Pages: 287
Favorite Line: "You're kind of weirded out, aren't you?"

I won't bore you with a plot summary (you can Google it) but everyone I know who has read this has loved it. I suppose, in regards to The Road, love isn't the right word. As you trudge bleakly through McCarthy's ruined, ashy landscape full of cannibals and people blinded by their own need, his twisting, broken, glittering prose will hypnotize and save you. His similes float up to the surface of this black, gory mess like bits of carrion, and bring you to the surface, fortifying you just as you reach the brink of your own horror and despair as a reader. It doesn't matter if the forthcoming movie adaptation doesn't work, because The Road is one of those very specific reading experiences that will be burnt into my brain forever.