Well, I finished it. 6 days. Not bad, all things considered. It had a bit of an addicting effect on me. I truly couldn't do much else until I finished it. Click on "More" to read my thoughts.
*WARNING: CLICKING MORE WILL GIVE AWAY MAJOR PLOT POINTS!!!!!! DON'T READ WHAT I HAVE TO SAY IF YOU PLAN ON READING THE BOOK BUT HAVEN'T YET*
Well, I liked it, especially compared with The Goblet of Fire The thing that drove me nuts about TGoF was all of the Quidditch at the beginning. I am not really into Quidditch. I always want Griffyndor to win, but beyond that, I don't care. So, the fact that Harry was banned for a while from the game was conducive to my enjoyment.
So, Sirius is dead. Frankly, that's okay by me. He was never my favorite, and I do think he was a bad influence on Harry. But, if someone had to die, it's fine with me that it was Sirius. There was a moment of time when I thought it was going to be Mrs. Weasley, and I didn't like that notion at all. I think my favorite characters really are Hermione (who finally had a book where she wasn't shuffled off someplace to be inconsequential for many chapters), Mrs. Weasley, and McGonnagall. Love those spunky women, especially Hermione.
I was glad to see the Harry/Cho Chang thing pretty much stall. I'm not a huge fan of Cho, and this book didn't endear her to me at all.
Compared to TGoF, I didn't think this one was quite as scary. I remember being truly afraid during TGoF. The last few chapters of this one were a little anticlimactic to me, but I think it's maybe because I was expecting so much.
All things considered, a great 800+ pages, and a worthy addition to the series. I think my having read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series has jaded me a little. Those are so scary, and so dark, that this HP book, reported to be so incredibly dark, came off as slightly tame.
The view down the beach on the stormy evening in Hilton Head. I really like this photo. I wasn't sure about the black and white at first, but I think it worked so much better for the stormy dusk shots than the true color did.
The ocean is such a funny thing in my mind. I grew up landlocked, and never saw the ocean until I was 14 or so, and have only been to the Atlantic, but every time I'm on the beach, it's the most relaxing thing in the world. I can't decide if that's because I want it to be normal, or because we've got "ocean=peaceful" so ingrained in our national psyche, or because it actually, legitimately relaxes me.
An interesting short memoir about dating a famous author (who can only be Jonathan Franzen, who wrote The Corrections, one of my favorite books I've read this year).
I just finished Cicero: The Life and Times of Rome's Greatest Politician by Anthony Everitt. This was the first Classics-related book I've read since earning my degree in Latin in 2001, and it was great to get back into the ancient world for a bit. Everitt's book is a broadsweeping look at the life of Cicero, and serves as a good, populist narrative of Rome's time between Republic and Empire. I thought that Everitt could have included more of Cicero's own words (and Everitt's right when he points out that they are less vivid in translation than in the original Latin) in order to round out the portrait, but other than that, I thought the book was quite solid and very interesting. I don't know if I've ever read another historical biography. I read tons of nonfiction, but this was the first biography that I can remember reading of someone who's been dead for more than fifty years. One other minor qualm is with the fact that because Everitt's scope is so wide, one never gets to read any of Cicero's famous invectives in some of the cases he tried that didn't have huge historical implications.
And, in one of those little "That's cool" moments: the translator of Cicero whose translations Everitt uses was the professor of one of the professors I had at Bryn Mawr. That professor was also briefly a member of the Lemonheads. The mind reels.
I've returned from a week on lovely Hilton Head Island, SC. The weather was about 90% nice, with no rainy days, only a few thunderstorms. The below photos is one I took on the beach at dusk on a stormy evening. Quite a change from the hustle and bustle of the beach crowd during the day.
Rented on a lark, Real Women Have Curves is the story of a young Latina woman, Ana, who has just graduated high school in Los Angeles. Her parents think she should work in her sister's dressmaking factory, she wants to go to college. What could have been a typical "Young Adult Breaks Free of Parents' Unfair Rules" story became richer and deeper because of its willingness to steer away from the predictable. When she starts secretly dating a white classmate, I waited patiently a) for her to get caught and b) for race to come into play. Fortunately, the writers knew that in this day and age, young love can often transcend racial issues, doing so even without a heavyhanded, "Look at us, we're transcending race!" speech from the characters.
Pixar totally has me wrapped around its finger. I loved Finding Nemo. It was beautiful and captivating to watch. In terms of story, I still love the Toy Story movies best, simply because the concept of toys coming to life behind my back entrances me. The story in Finding Nemo is a little weaker, and Albert Brooks and his voice are not my favorites. However, the scenes created and the visuals were stunning, and I loved the characters in the aquarium at the dentist's office. It's a great movie for Father's Day, which is this Sunday, of course. I recommend Finding Nemo immensely!
After the reading the dirge that was The Little Friend, I have to say that Running with Scissors was a cathartic relief. Written by Augusten Burroughs, the memoir was funny, sad, and provocative. I had been wary of it, because of all of the media fawning and comparisons to David Sedaris (whose stuff I do adore). Turns out, I didn't find Running With Scissors to be especially Sedarisesque. The stories of childhood are there, and yes, they're both gay, but the similarities do end there. Sedaris' essays about growing up are much more about being an extraordinary, bizarre kid in a "normal" world. Burroughs is writing about trying to be a normal kind in a ludicrous situation, until he finally gives in and find his own brand of normal. Burroughs is handed over by his mother to his psychiatrist to be raised, and the benevolent doctor is portrayed in a light that is first incredulous, then resigned, and then, finally, the reader begins to feel the weight of malice in the air.
I'm a sucker for the "true" story (this applies both to nonfiction and memoir), and I enjoyed Running With Scissors most thoroughly.
I wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Catch Me If You Can. I'm not much of a Leonardo DiCaprio fan, so I was hesitant, but that story really intrigued me. In the end, it's the story that matters. The performances were all admirable, but they're completely overshadowed by the true and remarkable story of Frank Abagnale. I enjoyed the movie quite a bit, and found myself thinking about the story still days later.
Back in January, I stated my goal to read 30 books this year. Here in the first week of June, I've finished 10. I'm not quite on pace where I need to be, but if I read five more books this month, I'll catch up. Since I'm going on vacation soon, and the sheer fact that summer weather leads to more reading (reading on the deck instead of sitting on the couch with a blanket watching TV, not to mention the fact that TV is all reruns), I don't think reaching 30 books is out of the question. I think the dealbreaker will be how fast I can plow through the new Harry Potter.
I finally finished Donna Tartt's The Little Friend. What a chore. I really enjoyed her first novel, The Secret History. TSH was a suspenseful, tight novel, that was easy to read in a weekend, TLF is anything but.
Click "More" to read more, including some spoilerish information.
The whole book is centered around the mysterious murder of a nine-year-old boy, Robin, who is the brother of our protagonist, Harriet. She spends the whole book chasing Danny Ratliff, a boy her brother's age, who she thinks is the murderer. We also spend time with the terribly stereotypical trailer-living Ratliff family. Some reviews I read claimed the novel to be overarching and marvelous, that it teaches us all something about ourselves. The truth is that the plot is boring (there are a few sections of suspense, but they are few and far between) and the prose is dull. I was never struck by any turn of phrase or any setting of scene. I was not attached to our main character (who, when described, conveniently resembles the severe picture of the author on the book jacket), nor anyone else, and I've never been so glad to finish a book in my life. I threw it across the couch.
Drumline is an interesting film, in a The Karate Kid feel good kind of way. It manages to make marching band cool, which I didn't realize was possible. A lot of the plotting was predictable, but as entertainment, this one wasn't bad. The sequences of performances were pretty gripping and cool. I thought the movie was going to be a little less sincere and a little more Bring it On, but even though I was surprsied by that, I wasn't disappointed.