Disclaimer

These are reviews originally posted to Amazon as customer reviews. They're intended for entertainment and informational purposes only. (Apologies for any typos, bad grammar, or offensive language.) This isn't sponsored by Amazon or represent them in any way, although they do have a very nice site and I recommend checking it out for your next book purchase. Feel free to comment on the books if you've read them or tell me how much my reviews suck or whatever.
That is all.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Hyperion

Hyperion

by Dan Simmons

(4/5 stars)


I can honestly say it took me seven years to read this book. Not because it's extremely long--though at 482 pages it's not short either--or because it wasn't interesting--once I started reading I could hardly put it down. The problem was I originally bought the book, but before I could get around to reading it I moved and the book was in a box that was misplaced for four of those seven years. After the box was found I just didn't get around to reading it, in part because my reading tastes had changed away from sci-fi and in part because I worried this would be one of those dull "hard" science-fiction novels that spend more time on discussion of astrophysics than characters or story. I could not have been more wrong.

Nothing much actually happens in the actual story of "Hyperion." Seven different people from around the galaxy--known as the Hegemony of Man--are brought together by the mysterious Church of the Shrike for a pilgrimage to the Time Tombs on the backwater world of Hyperion. Other than what appears to be a murder of one pilgrim, there's not much else involved other than travel arrangements.

The far more interesting part of the book are the stories within the stories. "Hyperion" is a sci-fi update of the classic "Canterbury Tales" where each of the six remaining pilgrims tells their story to the others of why they're on the pilgrimage. The Catholic priest Hoyt needs to get there before he dies from something that happened last time he was on the planet, the warrior Kassad needs to go there because of an encounter with a mysterious woman, the poet Silenius because the strange planet is the muse for his greatest work, the "Wandering Jew" Sol Weintaub to save his baby daughter, the detective Brawne to complete a case she took up, and the Consul, well, I won't spoil that surprise.

The mystery of what everyone wants and what exactly is going on with the Time Tombs and the mysterious creature known as The Shrike makes it hard to put the book down even though not a lot is happening. There are hints of a destuctive war to come, but that's saved for the sequel. I was disappointed after seven years to find out I need to buy the sequel to find out what happens to the pilgrims; I know it won't take seven years to read that.

My only real complaints are first some of the descriptions are a bit purple, especially the erotic encounter between Kassad and the mystery woman. Also, I wasn't happy with the order of the tales. Especially Weintraub's being in the middle of the book. It's such a great emotional tearjerker story that it should have been placed second-to-last in front of the Consul's nearly as emotional tearjerker story. Putting the hardboiled detective story of Brawne between the two takes away some of the flow. Still, maybe that was to keep with the form of "Canterbury Tales"; I wouldn't know because I've never read it.

In any case, even if you're not an avid sci-fi reader this is still a great book. You'll probably be a little confused about what a "farcaster" or a "Hawking drive" or a "fatline" is or how a "time-debt" works, but so was I and I've read a bit of sci-fi. Beyond that, the stories and characters are so classic to appeal to every reader.

That is all.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Discworld: Volumes 1-6

Discworld: Volumes 1-6

By Terry Pratchett

I recently bought most of Pratchett’s Discworld series off Ebay and began reading them in more-or-less chronological order, instead of the hit-or-miss order in which I read six other ones. The first six books come in at about 250 pages or less and that’s with easy-to-read print, so it doesn’t take look to read--I read half of one in two hours at a Starbucks. It seems most economical then to just review these first six all in a bunch instead of one-at-a-time.

The Color of Magic (Or Colour of Magic if you prefer the UK spelling): This is the first Discworld novel, published originally in 1983. I doubt Pratchett thought he’d still be writing the series 25 years later. This first novel serves mostly as a send-up of fantasy epics like “Lord of the Rings” and such and lays out the unusual geography of the Discworld, that being a flat world carried by four elephants on the back of a huge space turtle. The novel deals with Rincewind, a dropout of the Unseen University for wizards, who knows only one magic spell and makes a living on the streets of grubby Ankh-Morpork as best he can. When he is employed by a rich tourist from the far-off Golden Empire, Rincewind thinks he’ll make a quick buck. Little does the cowardly would-be wizard know that he’s gotten himself entangled in a quest that will take him to (and over) the edges of the Disc.

As I said, this largely lays out the geography of the world, with lots of explanations of how the Disc and its various societies, gods, and so forth work. (This includes the “color of magic” to which the title refers; that color is octarine, an eighth primary color.) On its own it’s an amusing novel, though not great. Having read future installments of the series, everything seems a bit off in this first installment. It’s like watching season 20 of “The Simpsons” and then going back to watch an episode of season 1 where the voices of some characters (notably Homer) aren’t quite right. Had I started with this one, I’m not sure I’d have been keen to read 30 more. (3 stars)

The Light Fantastic: This is a direct sequel to “The Color of Magic” and possibly the only direct sequel in the series, though if I’m wrong I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. Anyway, Rincewind thought he was through with crazy adventures, but an even crazier adventure beckons as the great space turtle seems to be on a collision course with a sun. It just might be the one spell Rincewind knows can actually help save the entire Discworld.

Like “The Color of Magic” before it, this one is good, but not great. I think Pratchett had begun the process of settling in more to creating a series instead of just one book. It’s still an amusing read if you have a couple hours to spare. (3 stars)

Equal Rites: This is the first Discworld novel to expand the universe outside of Rincewind. In this case the story revolves around a witch named Granny Weatherwax, who lives in the isolated Ramtop Mountains. On general principles Granny doesn’t like associating with non-witches, but finds herself becoming a mentor and guardian to a little girl named Esk, who seems destined to become a wizard. Just one problem: there’s never been a female wizard before.

There was some good potential for this story in the beginning, but the end never really lived up to it. For one thing, the story focuses itself on too narrow a timeframe, so that we don’t really get to see much of Esk’s challenges in trying to become a witch or her relationship to Simon. That they haven’t reappeared to headline any of the other 30 books probably says something about the author’s detachment to them. On a positive note, though, getting away from Rincewind allowed more of the Discworld universe to evolve. None of the Discworld books are probably essential reading, but this one even less so. (2 stars)

Mort: This is the first Discworld novel that focuses on DEATH as a main character. He appears in most every novel, at least in a cameo, but this novel really fleshes out (bad pun since he hasn’t got any flesh) Death’s world. Death becomes fascinated with humanity and so decides to experiment with human pleasures like drinking and eating, though fortunately not that other human pleasure. Meanwhile, he recruits a young man named Mort to cover for him. When Mort falls in love with one of his victims, the consequences are dire.

Maybe it’s terribly morbid, but DEATH is probably my favorite character in the series to this point. (Second is the Librarian, an orangutan who answers everything with a hearty “Ook.”) I’m pretty sure this laid the groundwork for the Susan character featured in future novels in the series, though I haven’t got to that point yet. Anyway, on its own I liked this novel, though not as much as the later “Reaper Man” that also focuses heavily on DEATH. Still, I’d have to say that of the first group it’s the one I liked best. (4 stars)

Sourcery: After two books Rincewind returns and once more the cowardly non-magical wizard has to save the universe. This time it’s not a collision with a sun about to put an end to the world, but a powerful ten-year-old sourcerer, so called because he serves as a “source” for raw magic—it’s a little complicated. A magic war breaks out among the wizards that threatens to destroy the fabric of reality unless Rincewind can save the day. (So everyone is pretty screwed.)

The Discworld universe continues to evolve with this book, especially the wizards. Rincewind is probably at his best of the three he’s featured in at this point and is forced with a real issue other than survival when he has to take sides against his fellow wizards. The only flaw is at the end some of the characters were left with little to do but stand around and watch the fireworks, so to speak. That’s a little slack storytelling. (3 stars)

Wyrd Sisters: This is the last of the six I’ve read and this time we’re back to Granny Weatherwax last featured in “Equal Rites.” Granny’s got a couple new friends to form a coven—of sorts—that soon finds itself embroiled in political strife involving the assassination of a king and his newborn successor. Much of the story is modeled after works of Shakespeare like “Macbeth” and “Hamlet,” which would probably be more humorous to me if I’d read (or watched) much Shakespeare.

I can’t say I’m overly fond of the Granny Weatherwax character, but I think if you like “Wicked” (the Gregory Maguire book or the musical) you’ll probably enjoy Pratchett’s less-than-fanciful account of witches—and it’s worth noting this came along seven years before Maguire’s book. As I said above, if I knew about Shakespeare I’d have liked it more, but that’s my fault not the book’s. (4 stars)

I got myself a big box of Discworld books for Christmas, so after the holidays I’ll get into that and post some more reviews when and if I feel like it.

That is all.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Hogfather

Hogfather

(A Discworld Novel)

by Terry Pratchett

(4/5 stars)

In the fictional Discworld, which is carried by four elephants atop a giant turtle floating through space, what we would consider Christmas is known as Hogwatch. The jolly, bearded fat man in the red suit we would associate with Santa Claus is known as the Hogfather and drives a team of four boars instead of eight reindeer. This year, though, something has gone amiss--mainly the Hogfather himself--and so if the Hogfather looks as if he's lost a lot of weight it's because Death is standing in for him.


The plot itself for "Hogfather" sounds like one of those cheesy Christmas specials we used to see more of on television like "The Flintstones Save Christmas" or "Ernest Saves Christmas" or even "The Santa Clause" where some ordinary klutz has to fill in for Santa and bring toys and cheer to the good little boys and girls. But things are never that simple or straightforward in the Discworld. While the Grim Reaper is filling the Hogfather's boots, his "granddaughter" Susan goes in search of the Hogfather, which ultimately involves assassins and The Tooth Fairy. Meanwhile, at Unseen University, the school for wizards, strange things are happening like gods and fairies appearing out of thin air. (It makes slightly more sense when you read the book.)

The story centers not so much on "saving Christmas, er, Hogwatch" as on the nature of belief and how it changes over time. In particular is the concept of old gods serving new purposes. If you look back through history you can compare the roles of old gods like Zeus or Odin with the Christian God (or Jesus) or Hindu gods, and so forth. No matter the society or the religion humans have always had a need for belief in something, even if it's something ridiculous like a jolly fat man and a team of flying hogs.

There's a good moral as well in the story of Death learning to be Santa, er, Hogfather in that Christmas, er, Hogwatch doesn't always mean getting everything you want. Even as children a little disappointment is necessary to help us mature into adults. (You've seen what happens to people who get everything they want growing up with the Paris Hiltons of the world.)

So really what could have in lesser hands been rendered into a cheap, sappy Christmas special has been given far more meaning by Mr. Pratchett. Not to mention the book is hilarious and a breeze to read. Some of the things near the end were a little confusing, but overall this was a great read for the holidays.

I bought the British miniseries of this off the Amazon Black Friday sale; I hear the miniseries sticks pretty close to the book, which would be a good thing. Once it arrives I'll have to find out.

That is all.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Moving Pictures

Moving Pictures
(A Discworld Novel)
by Terry Pratchett
(3/5 stars)

I'm going to be lazy here and borrow heavily from the review of the last Discworld book I read recently because really, it's about the same thing.

When it comes to some airplane/beach reading, Terry Pratchett's Discworld books are definitely not a bad choice if you're a sci-fi/fantasy fan. They're light, not too long, and funny in that British kind of way. They'll make you think a little bit, but not too much to make your head hurt. The mixture of comedy, action, and a little romance is just right for when you want an enjoyable book that isn't too heavy and overbearing.

That said, "Moving Pictures" is the fifth of Pratchett's Discworld novels I've read and it didn't really make much of an impact on me. It killed a couple hours at the airport, on the plane, and later at work but that was really about it. Mostly, this felt the same as the other Discworld books I'd read where some seemingly innocuous thing created by some fringe character threatens to destroy the universe until a ragtag bunch of non-heroes band together to stop it.

In this case an alchemist is conducting one of his idiotic experiments when he lo and behold SUCCEEDS at making something useful! What he invents is the Discworld equivalent of film. Before long he and his fellow alchemists head off to an abandoned place called Holy Wood and begin shooting silent movies that are made by imps quickly painting images onto the film while one of the alchemists turns a handle that "motivates" the imps to keep working.

Meanwhile, Victor is a wizard student at Unseen University who because of his uncle's will doesn't want to graduate and doesn't want to drop out either; he just wants to coast along like a less wild "Van Wilder." But when he sees a "click" as the silent films are known as, he heads off to Holy Wood along with thousands of other starstruck humans, trolls, and even dogs. Victor becomes a moving picture star along with a woman named Ginger.

Before long a former sausage salesman becomes a big-time movie producer and endeavors to put on the mother of all clicks--with a thousand elephants! But all this meddling with mysterious forces in abandoned places is bound to lead to trouble--trouble fit for a click!

All these different plot threads come together fairly well in the end as all our non-heroes battle weird Things for the fate of the Discworld. Still, as I said, even though I've only read four of these it felt like I'd read most of this before with only the specifics changed. I suppose when you write as many of these as Pratchett has it's easy to fall into a formula, albeit an enjoyable formula.

I did enjoy this one slightly more than the previous one I read if only because it was fun to play "spot the reference" in terms of real movies like "Gone With the Wind," "King Kong," "Lassie," and "Casablanca" among others. The real film industry was about as primitive as the Holy Wood version early on, only without the imps and trolls.

As I said at the beginning though, if you want some light reading that is a little more substantial and enjoyable than the latest Nicholas Sparks or James Patterson rag, Pratchett is your man. It just probably doesn't matter WHICH one you read.

That is all.

Thief of Time

Thief of Time
(A Discworld Novel)
by Terry Pratchett

(3/5 stars)

When it comes to some airplane/beach reading, Terry Pratchett's Discworld books are definitely not a bad choice if you're a sci-fi/fantasy fan. They're light, not too long, and funny in that British kind of way. They'll make you think a little bit, but not too much to make your head hurt. The mixture of comedy, action, and a little romance is just right for when you want an enjoyable book that isn't too heavy and overbearing.

That said, "Thief of Time" is the fourth of Pratchett's Discworld novels I've read and it didn't really make much of an impact on me. It killed a couple hours at the airport, on the plane, and later on a train but that was really about it. Mostly, this felt the same as the other Discworld books I'd read where some seemingly innocuous thing created by some fringe character threatens to destroy the universe until a ragtag bunch of non-heroes band together to stop it.

In this case, Jeremy Clockson is an orphan adopted by the Clockmaker's Guild who is obsessive about making accurate clocks. A strange but beautiful woman named Lady LeJean comes into his shop one day with the challenge to make the Ultimate Clock. Jeremy takes this on with the help of his rented Igor and some inspiration from his dreams for a glass clock.

Unbeknownst to Jeremy, this has already been done before and the fallout required the mysterious History Monks to patch Time back together into something resembling a plausible reality. Sweeper Lu Tse was the one who nearly stopped the last clock and vows to stop it this time with the help of his new assistant Lobsang Ludd. Meanwhile, Death realizes the universe will end on Wednesday and is preparing for the Apocalypse by rounding up the other three Horsemen: Pestilence, Famine, and War in a style reminiscent of the "Blues Brothers." In the meantime he tasks his "granddaughter" Susan to look into what will bring an end to life as we know it.

All these different plot threads come together fairly well in the end as all our non-heroes battle the bureaucratic Auditors for the fate of the universe. Still, as I said, even though I've only read four of these it felt like I'd read most of this before with only the specifics changed. I suppose when you write as many of these as Pratchett has it's easy to fall into a formula, albeit an enjoyable formula.

As I said at the beginning though, if you want some light reading that is a little more substantial and enjoyable than the latest Nicholas Sparks or James Patterson rag, Pratchett is your man. It just probably doesn't matter WHICH one you read.

That is all.

The World According to Garp

The World According to Garp
by John Irving
(4/5 stars)

I first read this book about five years ago when I was just exploring the works of John Irving, who has since become my favorite writer. I tried to post a customer review on Amazon back then but through some glitch the review never posted, so I can't be sure what I thought of the book back then, except I know I enjoyed it.

Anyway, for reasons that don't need explained right now, I'm rereading all of Mr. Irving's novels starting at the beginning with "Setting Free the Bears" (a decent first novel that displayed the author's potential though on its own it's not the best) to the dreadful "Until I Find You" which I will somehow have to struggle through a second time--or maybe it won't be so bad now that my expectations have been thoroughly dampened.

Right, so "The World According to Garp" was Mr. Irving's fourth book and I'm fairly certain the one that launched his career as a major writer with more than a "small but serious" audience. This is also the first of Mr. Irving's books to use the Dickensian 'cradle-to-grave' method that follows the main character from conception all the way to death. This similar device is later used for varying levels of success in "The Hotel New Hampshire," "The Cider House Rules," "A Prayer for Owen Meany," "A Widow for One Year," and the aforementioned dreadful "Until I Find You."

In this case the character we're following from conception to death is T.S. Garp. What do the initials TS stand for? (No, not Tough Sh*t.) They don't really stand for anything. Garp's mother was a nurse at a Boston hospital during WWII named Jenny Fields and wanted a child without the hassle of having a man in her life. This being before sperm banks and artificial conception, she decides to have sex with a brain-damaged and dying ball turret gunner named Technical Sergeant Garp. This less-than-immaculate conception gives birth to TS Garp.

Garp's mother loses her job at the Boston hospital but eventually finds work at the illustrious Steering School an all-boys school at the time. While growing up there, Garp nearly falls off the roof of the infirmary trying to shoo away pigeons and has his ear bitten off by a dog belonging to the airheaded Percy family. The eldest daughter of those Percys--the very easy Cushie Percy--gives Garp his first sexual experience at eighteen. Meanwhile, Garp also meets the lovely though nerdy Helen Holm, the daughter of Garp's wrestling coach. She loves to read so he decides he'll win her love by becoming a serious writer.

After graduating from Steering, Garp decides to travel abroad to Vienna to work on his writing. (Why Vienna? Because in his first five books Mr. Irving always uses Vienna or the greater Austria countryside as a location probably because he went there when he was about eighteen. Mercifully Mr. Irving grew out of that habit.) His mother tags along to begin work on her controversial autobiography. Meanwhile, Garp learns all about the legal prostitution system in Vienna--prostitution is another Irving staple along with wrestling, private schools, and bears--including a prostitute named Charlotte who dies of cancer. This helps propel Garp into finishing his first major work, a short story called "The Pension Grillparzer."

When he and his mother go back to America, his mother is a major feminist celebrity while Garp marries Helen Holm and the two of them settle down in suburban New Hampshire to raise two boys. There's trouble in their marriage from wife-swapping, babysitters, and a France-loving student, which leads to a terrible tragedy I can't go into without spoiling things.

After this tragedy, the Garps move in with his mother and he writes the book that launches his career from a "small but serious" audience to major commercial success with "The World According to Bensenhaver" an "X-rated soap opera" that explores themes of rape, violence, death, and the need for a parent to protect his children. This book is a direct result of the terrible tragedy I can't describe and afterwards Garp suffers from writer's block for years.

The family moves on to the Steering School, where Garp replaces Helen's father as wrestling coach and Helen teaches English. At the same time a long-standing feud between Garp and a society of women called the Ellen Jamesians comes to a head. The Ellen Jamesians are a fanatical group of women who cut their tongues out to "honor" a young girl named Ellen James whose tongue was cut out by a rapist. What precipitates the feud is Ellen James herself coming to live with Garp and denouncing the fanatics. Again I can't describe what happens next though I've left a clue if you remember what I said about how the book is structured.

Anyway, this was Mr. Irving's first big hit and some might argue his finest work. (I prefer "The Cider House Rules" myself.) Not only does it manage to cover an entire person's life in about 600 pages--depending on the edition--but it covers a broad spectrum of issues from "feminism" to marriage to writing. If you are a writer, like myself, then this book is a must-read for its insights into the fiction-writing process, the most important insight being the difference between what is true in actually happening and what is true in spirit. Mr. Irving uses that archaic omniscient style no one is supposed to use anymore to great effectiveness, though sometimes he goes a little too far in stating the obvious or heavy-handed foreshadowing.

The reason I don't give this 5/5 stars--or a perfect rating on any scale--is because there's one issue that always bugs me. It relates to the Garp Family Tragedy I can't reveal. I can say the problem with that is the setup for it is so obvious, illogical, and contrived that it never ceases to bother me. I'm a strong enough believer in Mr. Irving's work to think he could have managed to get the same result a little more effectively than that.

It's a minor blemish on an otherwise great work that's a good read and an important read that at the same time isn't a complete bore to read--except the wrestling parts. Mercifully unlike his previous novel "The 158-Pound Marriage" there's not nearly so much of that boring wrestling shop talk that bores me to tears. Maybe you'll enjoy those parts more than I do.

Anyway, after first reading "The Cider House Rules" and other works by Mr. Irving like this one I became sort of a disciple of the man's genius to the point where in 2004 I wrote a tribute story called "Spring in the Land of Broken Dreams." You can read that here

Guards! Guards!

Guards! Guards!
by Terry Pratchett
(4/5 stars)

Well this is the third of Pratchett's "Discworld" books I've read and probably the last one I'll read for a bit as I have some other stuff to do. Anyway, "Guards! Guards!" was another entertaining and quick read, though I couldn't help thinking it bore a lot of similarities to the later "Going Postal" which I read first. It wouldn't surprise me if many of Pratchett's nearly 40 Discworld books are very similar because in my experience authors develop a certain way of doing things and so do I, although I don't consider myself a true "author" at this point, just a hack writer.

But enough about me and vague generalizations. "Guards! Guards!" is about the laughably inept City Watch, who work the graveyard shift ringing a bell, shouting "all is well," and trying to stay out of the way. This is because the Machiavellian head of the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork, Lord Vetinari, has essentially legalized crime by unionizing thieves and assassins and giving them strict quotas. The head of the City Watch's night shift, Captain Sam Vimes, comes from that Bruce Willis mode of cops in that you can usually find him in a bar or in the gutter afterwards, stinking like a bar.

Things begin to change when a "dwarf" named Carrot arrives from the mountains. Carrot really isn't a dwarf, he's a human taken in by the dwarves since he was a baby and his parents were murdered. When he arrives in Ankh-Morpork he starts throwing the book (figuratively and literally) at the criminal element in the city despite Vimes and his lieutenants telling him to chill out. Meanwhile, a real crime is being purpotrated by a secret society trying to take control of the city by summoning a dragon. They get a lot more than they bargained for and now the only ones who can stop it are the City Watch with the help of the Lady Raskin, one of her pet swamp dragons, and an orangutan librarian.

I think the good thing about this off the bat is that while the book is funny and the cops are inept, they aren't really "Keystone Cops" so much as guys who really don't have an important job and are well aware of this so they just don't care. Some of the plot is predictable but the main twist at the end I didn't really see coming. Like the other two Discworld books I've read (and I'll bet it is the same for most) it features a lot of subtle comedy that makes it laugh out loud funny. As I said earlier, at some point I'll get around to reading more of these because they are high-quality reads that are fun and cover serious topics as well.

Also, as far as comparing this to "Going Postal" they both start off with the "hero" who isn't a hero by any stretch (drunken cop vs. con man) who is embroiled in a much larger game and somewhat reforms, in the process meeting a lady who isn't necessarily a "lady" in terms of decorum. Like I said, I'll bet a lot of the other books in the series follow a similar pattern, but it's a good pattern so that's not really a bad thing.

That is all.

Star Wars: Thrawn Cycle

It was way back in 1991 or 1992 when I first walked into the local Waldenbooks and saw the display for "Heir to the Empire" by Timothy Zahn billed as "the official continuation of the Star Wars saga!" My first reaction was skepticism. I mean, did we really need a continuation to the Star Wars saga? Was this going to be some really lame sequel like "Godfather III" or "Scarlett" (the sequel to "Gone With the Wind")? Turns out the answers are not really and no. We certainly didn't NEED a continuation to the Star Wars saga as most of us who grew up with the movies had been doing that on our own for over a decade with our action figures and friends and fanfics. Still, if there was going to be a continuation, the three books by Timothy Zahn were a good choice.

(With all apologies to the purists I have no idea what the technical title for this trilogy ended up being. Let's just call it the Thrawn Trilogy for lack of a better name.)

So then, "Heir to the Empire" picks up five years after our favorite heroes from a galaxy far, far away destroyed the Death Star, killed Darth Vader and the Emperor (indirectly), and toppled the evil Galactic Empire. Now Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, Han Solo, and the rest of the gang are putting together a government called the New Republic to bring peace and freedom to all the peoples of the galaxy.

But the Empire is not finished yet by any means. The brilliant strategist Grand Admiral Thrawn has taken the reins of power over what's left of the Empire and he aims to bring it back to its glory. But to do this he's going to need some help from a cloned Jedi Master named Joruus C'Baoth, who agrees to help so long as Thrawn delivers Luke, Leia, and the Jedi twins she's carrying in her belly. As well, Thrawn is planning a little Attack of the Clones of his own.

The main purpose of this book is mostly to familiarize readers with all the new characters who will play prominent roles not just in the rest of this trilogy but in many of the future books as well. Besides the aforementioned Thrawn and Master C'Baoth, we also have Talon Karrde the gentleman smuggler who knows everything that's going on in both the New Republic and Empire but refuses to take sides in the struggle, though like Han Solo in "A New Hope" (the original 1977 movie if you're not a nerdy fan like me) he eventually has to make a choice. And more importantly there's the enigmatic Mara Jade, a young woman who was known as the Emperor's Hand and has a personal grudge against Luke Skywalker for bumping off her boss.

All our old favorites like Lando, Chewie, C3PO, R2D2, and Wedge Antilles (I'm just throwing him in there because he's my brother's favorite character) show up as well. What Mr. Zahn does well (unlike George Lucas' childish attempts in the woeful prequels) is to mix political intrigue into the action so there's more depth than the good guys are Good and the bad guys are Evil. As well, I think he does a good job in keeping the established characters more or less the way we remember them except, as five years have gone by and Han and Leia are married now, a little bit more mature. In some of the sequels that followed over the years under other authors there were times when you thought, "Han wouldn't say that." Or "Luke wouldn't act like that." But that doesn't happen here. As well, Zahn keeps Luke Skywalker's Jedi powers consistent with the movies so while he can block laser blasts with his lightsaber and confuse weak-minded stormtroopers, he can't fly or bring down whole buildings with his mind or anything like that. There was a tendency in later books (after Luke unilaterally decides he's a Jedi Master, which always seemed completely out of character to me) to make him a superhero with a lightsaber only without the tights and cape. The new characters fit right into the story and with the existing characters. I have to say Thrawn is one of my favorites because he's as smart and evil as a Bond villain but unlike a Goldfinger or Dr. Evil he doesn't have that blind arrogance; he wouldn't play some idiotic game to kill our heroes like dangle them over a shark pit or whatever. His only mistake was underestimating the colossal good fortune of the heroes. (If you know Luke Skywalker is on a planet, just bomb the whole thing from orbit until there's nothing left but ashes--and even then he'll probably find the one rock or cave or something to hide under.)

The only thing lacking from "Heir to the Empire" and the two sequels is that while there's lots of space there's not much opera. There's no epic lightsaber duel (which really disappoints me as I love those unless Yoda is involved, in which case it's unintentionally funny) or Death Star or "I Am Your Father" moment to give it the same epic grandeur and spectacle of the movies. But I think the story and characters are interesting enough to more than offset this. And on the bright side there's no Muppets or teddy bears or mildly racist caricatures like the movies either.

The sequel and second one in the trilogy "Dark Force Rising" is kind of dull in places. Mostly this one is designed to bridge the gap between the introduction and the epic conclusion and so the pace at some times suffers while all the pieces are maneuvered into place. Luke goes off to study with C'Baoth until he realizes the Jedi Master is nuts, Leia goes to the planet of the Noghri who are trying to kill her so she can make peace, and Han and Lando race to find a lost fleet of ships before Thrawn.

In the epic conclusion the good guys are on the rope as Thrawn launches his Attack of the Clones and seems on the verge of winning. To stop him, our heroes must find the source of his clones on the remote planet of Wayland and do battle against C'Baoth and his minions. The excitement here definitely picks up, rewarding readers for slogging through some of that setting up in the prior book. I don't want to spoil too much here but it should be obvious the good guys win or how else could they have done about a thousand sequels afterwards?

I kept up with most of those sequels by many of whom I would consider lesser authors over the next ten years or so. I finally got tired and bored during the whole "New Jedi Order" series. I think by now Han is like seventy and Luke and Leia are in their 50s with Jedi grandchildren and the epic struggle is not to wet their Depends undergarments. Sorry, but it's getting a little ridiculous by now with our heroes having foiled more evil capers than Scooby and the gang. No one is that lucky.

One of the things I would love to ask Mr. Zahn about if I went to see him at a convention would be how annoyed he was at some of the sequels that came out. That's probably a discussion that would be better to have at a bar over a few drinks than standing in line at a booth, though. Because about six years later Mr. Zahn returned to Star Wars writing with the two-book "Hand of Thrawn" series that seemed to serve little other purpose (besides making money for the Lucas Empire) than to correct some of the mistakes made in the sequels, most notably the relationship between Luke and Mara Jade.

My personal theory is you can tell which books Mr. Zahn liked and which he didn't by doing a little reading between the lines. For instance characters like Corran Horn from Michael Stackpole's "Rogue Squadron" series are featured prominently while the Solo children are conveniently herded off to some distant planet and none of the Jedi from Luke's Jedi Academy really show up. As well Mara Jade refers at one point to essentially wasting the last ten years of her life (which is the time between the two Zahn series) and Luke decides he ought to rein in overusing his Jedi powers.

The excuse for all this to happen in "Spectre of the Past" and "Vision of the Future" is that Grand Admiral Thrawn has supposedly returned from the dead and is plotting to reinvigorate the little bit of the Empire that remains. There's not quite as much action and political intrigue as the previous three books and really no new characters worthy of note. Still, it was refreshing after all the lesser efforts that preceded it because for my money Timothy Zahn's books are the gold standard by which to judge any other Star Wars novel. Others will disagree--and they will be wrong, wrong, WRONG! but they're entitled to their idiotic opinions (just kidding...maybe)--but as the first one to take a crack at it he set the bar pretty high.

I rented the other two adult Star Wars novels Mr. Zahn has written--"Survivor's Quest" and "Outbound Flight"--from the library so I'll read those as well. They certainly aren't essential reading, but it's a fun way to kill a few hours. And no matter your opinion of his books, one thing is for sure: Mr. Zahn wouldn't have made as much of a hash of the prequels as Lucas did. (I mean, just about any of us geeks playing with our action figures and writing fanfics could have written better scripts than those!)

Sorry to go on so long about this. I am a total nerd about it, but then the Star Wars movies were pretty much the first ones I can remember seeing so there's a lot of love there.

That is all.

Dirk Gently Series

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency &
The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul
by Douglas Adams
(4/5 stars)

I bought the compilation of both books in the late Douglas Adams' (author of the better-known Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series) Dirk Gently series, which you probably can't find in stores, but you can buy it used online or just buy the two books separately. Anyway, because of this I read both books together and so I might as well review them together.

Overall if you like the Hitchhiker's Guide books there's a lot of the same quirkiness to be found in the Dirk Gently series. Dirk Gently (his real name has changed many times to dodge bill collectors and other nefarious characters) is as oddball as Ford Prefect or Zaphod Beeblebrox only he keeps his feet more or less planted on Earth. He runs what he terms as a holistic detective agency in London that investigates the interconnectedness of all things and mostly on the surface would seem to be a way to bilk gullible old ladies wanting to find their cats out of some money. And yet what we find is that through his strange methods (or perhaps in spite of them) he does manage to get results in the two cases of the series.

Book 1: "Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency" focuses on the murder of a software designer. Richard, one of the victim's employees who is also dating the victim's sister, is an old school chum of Dirk Gently and so employs him to help find the culprit. Finding the solution involves investigating a magic trick performed by one of Richard and Dirk's old professors for a little girl at a stuffy dinner. How the two events are interconnected is the real mystery as it's pretty easy to deduce the software developer's murderer in the first third or so of the book.

I found the ending a little confusing and the interaction between Richard and Dirk was perhaps a little too similar to that of Arthur and Ford Prefect in the Hitchhiker books with Richard playing the befuddled straight man to Dirk's wacky troublemaker. Still, with its notions about time and Electric Monks it proves to be a good bridge between the Hitchhiker books and the next entry in the Gently series.

Book 2: "Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul" features more of Dirk Gently than the first book. This time the befuddled straight man is actually an American woman named Kate, who is on her way to Norway to meet an old flame when the airline counter is destroyed and not by Al-Qaeda either. At the same time, Dirk has been hired as a bodyguard to a record producer, an assignment that goes terribly wrong when the record producer is decapitated by a woolly, green-eyed creature with a scythe. Again the real mystery is unraveling how the two events are interconnected, which is the whole point of having a holistic detective.

And again the ending is a little bit confusing. Still, I liked this one better than the first because it featured more of Dirk Gently so that he seemed to becoming more into his own as a character. Unfortunately, Adams was not able to finish any more books in the series--I believe part of a third novel is included in the "Salmon of Doubt" anthology published posthumously.

As it stands, these books are pretty much just as much fun to read as the Hitchhiker novels and just about as short. Of course since both are (more or less) just set on Earth there's not the same opportunity for galaxy-spanning mirth and mayhem, but there's plenty of quirky humor and fun to be had all the same. So no matter how you go about obtaining them, they're worth the read.

That is all.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

By Kurt Vonnegut

(3/5 stars)

This is the fifth Vonnegut novel I've read in about as many months. I enjoyed "Timequake" and loved "Slaughterhouse Five" and "Bluebeard." But the last two I've read just weren't as good. I read "Cat's Cradle" and thought overall it was weird, not in the wacky fun-loving way of a Willy Wonka, more like the creepy way of that guy who sits in a van outside playgrounds. But then I had a head cold so maybe I wasn't prepared to appreciate the subtleties. As for "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater" I just found it to be completely unpleasant and perhaps in this case it was because the novel was telling me things I knew but didn't really want to hear about. The truth hurts.

The book deals with the Rosewater family, in particular two branches of the family. One group is based out of Indiana, but they don't really live there. The father is a senator who visits the county named for his ancestors a couple times a year, which is not unlike most politicians, some of whom (a certain senator representing New York) have even less connection with the territories they represent. Thanks to shrewd dealings in the Civil War by his ancestors, the senator has plenty of money. To keep the government he ostensibly works for from touching the fortune, the senator's lawyers drew up a foundation. The senator's son Eliot comes to be the head of this foundation and he (gasp!) actually tries to use the money to help people! He moves to Rosewater County, where he dedicates himself to helping people by giving them money, medicine, and an ear to talk to while also fighting fires as a lieutenant of the Volunteer Fire Department. In the process of all this good, Eliot drives himself and his wife crazy.

Meanwhile, a greedy young lawyer locates the other branch of the Rosewater family in Rhode Island. In particular, he finds Fred Rosewater, a miserable life insurance salesman with a wife who hangs out with a rich lesbian to lap up some of the golden crumbs. The lawyer concocts a grand scheme to declare Eliot insane so he can get the foundation's money and snap up a few golden crumbs of his own.

What makes this book so depressing is that the only admirable human in the book is also the one accused of being insane. And while he is performing a lot of charitable deeds for the people of Rosewater County, he does it more out of guilt than anything and sees most of the people he helps as a nuisance. The poor people of Rosewater County and Rhode Island are all described as lazy, stupid, and useless. The rich people are also lazy, stupid, and useless, but at least they have the money to dress and smell nice.

So I think you can see what I mean about this being a real downer to read. While I understand much of what the author is saying is true--a lot of people are lazy, stupid, and useless, including Yours Truly--it's not exactly the kind of message I want to hear. As I said, the truth hurts. Maybe if you're secure enough to think you aren't lazy, stupid, and useless then you'll enjoy the book far more than I did.

That is all.

Lamb (The Gospel According to Biff…)

Lamb (The Gospel According to Biff…)

By Christopher Moore

(3/5 stars)

It must have been something about the end of the century that made people interested in looking beyond the Bible to understand the life of Jesus Christ. First we had "The Last Temptation of Christ" in the late '80s, which I've never seen more than five minutes of, that tried to make Jesus seem like a real, flawed person. About fifteen years later came Dan Brown's "Da Vinci Code" that poured existing conspiracy theories about Christ's life into the mold of a standard thriller and subsequently set the literary world on fire—and ensured Brown will never be hurting for money. We also had Mel Gibson's bloody, gruesome "Passion of the Christ" which I've never seen and never want to see. In between all this came Christopher Moore's "Lamb," which like Brown's novel takes existing material and this case pours it into the mold of a comic book superhero, only without the POW! and BAM! sound effects.

Most people, even if they aren't Christians, already should have an idea about the basics of this story. The birth in the stable and all that isn't covered in Moore's book. Instead it starts out in Nazareth when Joshua (his real Hebrew name) is six years old. His best friend is Levi who is called Biff (so at least we get one of those comic book sound effects) who is the Son of God's constant companion throughout most of the novel. At this point Joshua can already bring lizards back to life, but soon his powers grow so he can bring people back to life—almost.

At the age of thirteen, Josh decides it's time to go find his destiny so he and Biff travel to the East in search of the wise men present at Josh's birth. First they go to what is now Afghanistan, where Josh begins to study Confucius while Biff studies the carnal arts with six Chinese servant girls. Eventually they go off to find Wise Man #2, who is a Buddhist monk in China. There Josh and Biff master kung fu while also meditating on the secrets of the universe. Finally they have to go to India to meet Wise Man #3, who is an aesthetic hermit, who teaches Josh yoga while Biff learns the Kama Sutra from a prostitute.

Finally it's time for Josh and Biff to return home and begin the ministry by enlisting disciples and all that. I suppose I'm only spoiling the end for non-believers when I say Joshua is crucified, dies, and rises from the dead on the third day. As for Biff's fate, you'll have to read the book yourself.

I suppose people would (if anyone reads it) disagree with my remarks about this being like a comic book. Actually the first hundred pages is more like a Biblical "Little Rascals" with young Joshua, Biff, and Mary of Magdala getting into mischief in ancient Israel. But it still follows that pattern of first the superhero gains his power, then he has to learn how to control his abilities, then he has to figure out how to battle evil, and then he finally battles the villain. (Alternatively you could also think of Luke Skywalker in the "Star Wars" movies, who realizes he has the Force in the first movie, then goes off to learn from Yoda, and finally uses it to destroy Vader and the Emperor in the last movie. If that works any better for you.) Then there's the snappy one-liner banter, Biff in the role of sidekick, and of course the love interest who in the tradition of Lois Lane and Vicki Vale even has the same letter in both names. All we need are some tights and a secret identity. But then I'm the same one who calls "Fight Club" a Marxist fairy tale, so feel free to disagree with me on this point.

At any rate, probably the most you can get out of this book is a reminder that most religions at their base all teach very similar things about love and forgiveness and being good to fellow man and so forth. Some are a little more strict and have different dietary rules, but the core beliefs are very similar. If we focused on these deeper similarities than the more surface-level differences we'd have a lot fewer problems in the world. But really you could probably figure that out without this book.

Overall the book is entertaining in a blasphemous way. It's as sharp and witty as a "Simpsons" parody, so if that's your thing you aren't likely to get bored reading it. Though as an official reviewer on Amazon noted it can be hard to tell Biff and Josh apart because they sound the same. Also, they sound pretty much the same from age six right on up to age thirty-three with the same sarcastic quips and one-liners. In a way that's all right because if you grow up close to someone for all those years you do develop your own sort of language style with your own in-jokes.

My main complaint is we spend 100 pages on the Biblical Little Rascals, then 200 pages on the gratuitous training montage, and then only a little more than 100 pages on the actual events recounted in the Bible. The crucifixion especially seems rushed and the ending a little abrupt. It'd be like paying to see the latest "Spider-Man" movie and then the final epic battle between Spidey and the latest villains is over in three minutes. You'd feel a little cheated. But at least it saves us from an unpleasant Mel Gibson-style bloodbath. Definitely a bonus.

Should you read this book? Probably not if you're a Republican. If you're a "liberal" and can tolerate a mildly offensive satire then knock yourself out—POW!

That is all.

Bluebeard

Bluebeard
by Kurt Vonnegut
(5/5 stars)

Someone I know said "Bluebeard" was the Vonnegut YOU (and by YOU he meant everyone) didn't like. He couldn't have been more wrong. A lot of people say a book really spoke to them, mostly so they can sound smart, but this is one of those rare occasions where I can truly say this book spoke to me. Though it was written over twenty years ago it felt like it was written for me right this moment. (I've mentioned before in other reviews how important timing is in these things. See "On the Road" and "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius.")

Bluebeard is the story of Rabo Karabekian and it follows the nonlinear storytelling found in other Vonnegut novels like his classic "Slaughterhouse Five." Starting in the present of 1987, Rabo is an old man on Long Island who lives alone in a mansion after his wife died. A younger widow named Circe Berman (who writes controversial young adult books under the handle Polly Madison) appears on Rabo's private beach one day and soon takes up residence in Rabo's house. She convinces him to write his autobiography.

His autobiography begins in California in the late '20s. The son of Turkish Armenians who fled the slaughter of their village, Rabo trains to be a cobbler like his father but discovers he has a talent for drawing. His mother convinces him to write to a famous Russian Armenian named Dan Gregory who's become a famous artist known for his realistic illustrations. (His popularity at that time make him kind of similar to Norman Rockwell, except he's a jerk. Maybe Rockwell was a jerk too. I have no idea.) Gregory's wife Marilee takes notice of Rabo's talent and eventually brings him to Gregory's home in New York. Rabo rides out the Depression under Gregory's mean-spirited teachings, falling in love with Marilee and "Modern Art" (Picasso and his ilk) at the same time.

In time Rabo becomes a lesser-known member of the modern art movement in the '40s and '50s, hanging out with Jackson Pollack and Terry Kitchen and other well-known people who invariably commit suicide. Worse yet, many of Rabo's paintings are destroyed by a very shoddy product so that he seems doomed to be completely forgotten. That is except for a very special item in his former studio, a potato barn on the grounds of his mansion.

For me, as something approximating an artist of the written word, much of Rabo's problems were similar to ones I've faced. I'm certain many artists whether they work with a canvas or clay or marble or paper or words or what have you have felt the frustration and despair at the world failing to take notice of our "gift." But the lesson for any artistic type I gleaned from Rabo's story follows the adage of "Do what you love." Or the more accurate way to put it might be to say, "Do what you care about for the people you care about."

That said, I think this is a great book to read if you're an artist of any sort. If you're not, then you'll probably still be entertained by Vonnegut's witty prose, but you won't get as much out of the reading. You're probably the YOU the person I knew was thinking about.

That is all.

Starship Troopers

Starship Troopers
by Robert Heinlein
(3/5 stars)

I'd long heard about Robert Heinlein's "controversial" masterpiece "Starship Troopers" but it was one of those I never quite got around to reading until now. I have to admit I was pretty disappointed. The book is well-written enough and fairly entertaining, not to mention it's only 200 pages so it doesn't take long too read. However, I thought the human element was really lacking in the story. To me, most of it felt more like a dry procedures manual on how to train an army and fight a war.

The story focuses on Juan "Johnnie" Rico, who is from a well-off family on Earth. The ruling government known as the Federation—remember, this was written years before Gene Roddenberry also used that same name in "Star Trek"—lets you have pretty much all the freedoms we have now, except it restricts voting only to veterans. So in order to vote you have to do a hitch in the service, though people like Juan's father really don't care anyway. This is why the book is controversial, though I can't say it really outraged me. I suppose in Ike's America--only about five years removed from the McCarthy hearings--Heinlein's dim view of American-style democracy would be far more shocking.

More out of loyalty to his friend Carl than any patriotic nonsense, Johnnie joins up with the Mobile Infantry and begins the brutal boot camp that's designed to weed out all the undesirables. In the boot camp we're presented with a lot of military philosophy such as that a conscript army doesn't work and the MI's tough love—which includes flogging or the death penalty for serious offenses—is necessary to create the most effective fighting force. Johnnie survives the boot camp only to find out there's a war going on with the Bugs, who are a sort of spider-like enemy.

Johnnie goes through a few battles as a regular grunt in powered army, laying waste to a city on a planet aligned with the Bugs. From there the story switches over into a lot of descriptions about the chain of command as Johnnie becomes an officer and eventually through circumstances gets his own platoon during a crucial battle against the Bugs. That's where it ends.

As far as human emotions go we're primarily treated to pain and some camaraderie, though since Johnnie keeps getting transferred and the people around him keep dying we don't get too much of that either. Which is why I felt this book was pretty dry overall and while it kept we reading, it didn't make a huge impact.

Now it might have made more of an impact, but I read what I think is a superior book that is very similar, but has more humanity to it. That would be "The Forever War" by Joe Haldemann, which was written about fifteen years later. Like Heinlein, Haldemann was a soldier in a war (Vietnam instead of Korea) who wrote a story about a young man who is enrolled in the military (in this case against his will, at least at first) and goes around fighting an alien army in powered armor, though showing how technology had advanced from the late '50s to early '70s, he fought with lasers instead of nuclear-tipped missiles. The difference is Haldemann's story has a love story component that gives it more humanity and thus more impact.

Of course without "Starship Troopers" I don't think we'd have "Forever War" so it definitely is an important book and good in its own way. I'm just saying one is sitting on my bookshelf and the other I returned to the library.

For the record I have seen the travesty of a movie Hollywood made a few years ago on late-night cable. That it stars Denise Richards should already be a clue to its awfulness. While they managed to keep some of the gist of the novel, they pretty much disemboweled it and removed anything resembling intelligence. If you want a generic human heroes-vs.-evil-CGI-aliens shoot 'em up then it's fine. I'm just mentioning that for completeness.

That is all.

Mostly Harmless

Mostly Harmless
(Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy #5)
by Douglas Adams
(3/5 stars)

After I read the fourth book "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" I checked the reviews for this one and decided I didn't like it and shouldn't read it. But then I decided a couple weeks later that I might as well read it in case it wasn't as disappointing as I thought and just so I could get my merit badge for having read the entire series--except for the short story included in the "Ultimate" edition and "Salmon of Doubt." And just like one of those horrible standardized tests, most of the time you should go with your first instinct.

Reading the end of this book felt exactly like the outrage expressed by fans of "The Sopranos" after the infamous "fade to black" ending. The first reaction was "Huh?" This was followed by reading over the last pages a couple times to see if I'd missed something. This was followed by disbelief that I didn't miss something. Finally, the outrage of "THAT's how it ends?!!!" (Unlike some other books at least I didn't throw it against a wall, it being a library copy in already shoddy condition.)

Like those Sopranos fans, I feel like I was duped, like I had a practical joke played on me. I read these books and followed it all the way to the end and then--THAT. Really all I needed then was for the ghost of Douglas Adams to appear to point and laugh at me and then flip me the bird. I think when you follow a series, even one that isn't terribly long like the Hitchhiker books (about 1,100 pages in all) you want that "Lord of the Rings" ending with all the farewells or the "Harry Potter" ending where we check up on everyone years later. Because let's face it, when you read an entire series you become emotionally invested in it to some extent so they're maybe not a spouse or brother/sister, but at least an aunt/uncle who appears regularly. So when it comes to the end, you want the closure, not so much of a funeral but more like a graduation or wedding where one journey ends and another is beginning. When that's lacking, you're left with disappointment and resentment that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

What saves this book is that you read "Hitchhiker" books for the same reason people watch "Family Guy" on TV, for the ridiculous asides more than the actual main story. That's what makes the books readable even when the story and especially the character development is disappointing.

The story concerns the complexities of space-time, which is always very confusing. Fenchurch, the love Arthur discovered in the previous book, disappears in a hyperspace accident without so much as a line of dialog, thus rendering the last book pretty moot. Arthur then roams around the Galaxy by donating hair, fingernails, and of course sperm to DNA banks. (Whatever happened to the, you know, hitchhiking?) He does this to find a place where he can fit in, trying a few places like another version of Earth called NowWhat that is a swampy hellhole. (If you want to take a romantic interpretation, you could also say that by constantly traveling in hyperspace maybe he's hoping Fenchurch will reappear.) He finally crashes on a remote planet and becomes a revered Sandwich Maker until he meets his daughter, produced by some of that sperm he gave away. The child's mother is none other than Tricia McMillan or Trillian. She comes from another Earth (or is it the same one as the fourth book?) where she never went with Zaphod at a party and thus never became Trillian and instead became a news reporter who's visited by aliens who crash-landed on the tenth planet called Rupert, which technically now would be the ninth since Pluto is no longer a planet. Meanwhile, Ford Prefect discovers that a big corporation has bought out the Hitchhiker's Guide and developed a new version with the power to destroy the universe. Is any of this making sense? Probably not. It doesn't make much more sense when you actually read the book either.

All this naturally leads to the really disappointing ending that I went on and on about above. Like pretty much all the Hitchhiker books, there's little in the way of character development and after spending 90% of the story getting everyone together, the author rushes the unsatisfactory conclusion. If not for those funny asides and the humorous tone of Adams's writing, this would have been far more disappointing. Still, if you've read and enjoyed the rest of the series you may as well read this one for the complete set.

That, mercifully, is all.

White Noise

White Noise
by Don DeLillo
(4/5 stars)

In case you've come to the wrong place, this book bears no relation to "White Noise" the horror movie from a few years back. But like a horror movie "White Noise" the novel by Don DeLillo is preoccupied with death. And there is a scary fog leading to a panicked evacuation and a shooting with plenty of blood.

That's where the similarities end. Most of the novel is concerned with the largely mundane happenings of Jack "J.A.K." Gadney and his oddball family. The composition of this family would even confuse the Brady Bunch as each Jack and his current wife Babbette have been married multiple times and had multiple children. In its current state the household is comprised of Jack, Babbette, nerdishly creepy elder son Heinrich, stern daughter Denise, muddled daughter Steffie, and innocent baby son Wilder. There are other stepchildren who appear fleetingly, but it's not important.

At any rate, Jack teaches "Hitler Studies" at the "College-on-the-Hill" in Middle America. This doesn't mean Jack is a Nazi or a devotee of Hitler in any way; he simply saw a way to create a cushy job for himself and snatched the opportunity. For Jack the myth of Hitler is far more important than the man himself. That he dresses in an academic gown and wears dark sunglasses while doing teaching is part of the theatricality of his act.

There's more, but most of the first hundred pages isn't overly important. What is important to note is that both Jack and his wife have a deep-rooted fear of death. This fear becomes more pronounced during the Airborne Toxic Cloud Incident when Jack and family have to flee their home. Shortly after this, Denise brings to light that Babbette is taking some kind of weird new drug. These two incidents force Jack to confront his fear of death with nearly disastrous results.

Overall this is an interesting book, but a confusing one, the kind that makes you grateful for Cliff Notes. I made sure to check out some free ones online after reading the book to see if I'd missed anything. As I aced the quiz for the novel I suppose not. You could easily devote several books the size of the novel to discussing all the relevant minute details of products mentioned and TV programs quoted.

What's odd is that the final and perhaps most important part of the novel is told in sort of an off-hand fashion. That's when those Cliff Notes really come in handy, because if you blink you'll miss what's important in the final chapter. It is that last chapter that does help to put things into perspective.

For most readers, including myself, it would be very easy to give up on this novel. Several times after the Airborne Toxic Cloud and Babbette's revelation I kept wondering, "Why am I still reading?" There seemed to be nothing compelling the book continue; it was simply coasting along on inertia for a while. Still, I think the ending makes it worthwhile.

If you can tolerate the asides, the seemingly random events, and the unnatural dialog then you should be able to get something out of reading "White Noise." Just make sure to have the Cliff Notes handy to help straighten you out.

That is all.

How to Be Good

How to Be Good
by Nick Hornby
(3/5 stars)

In all honesty I didn't really want to read this book. I was looking for one of Hornby's better known books like "High Fidelity" or "About A Boy" that were made into Hollywood movies. Though I don't like the movie version of "High Fidelity" and I've never seen "About a Boy"--but the soundtrack is good. Anyway, the library only had "How to Be Good" so that's what I got.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating that a bad sign for a book is if you can put it down for days--or even weeks--and have no interest in picking it up. In this case I was separated from the book for three days and didn't miss it in the slightest. That's not to say it's a bad book, because it isn't, it's simply not a great book. It is simply "Good."

The story is about Katie Carr, a doctor (or GP in the British parlance) in the English suburb of Holloway. Katie's husband David writes a newspaper column "The Angriest Man in Holloway" where he rails against evil things like old ladies on buses. They have a ten-year-old son named Tom and an eight-year-old daughter named Molly. In all, the standard middle-class family. But all is not well. Katie is having an affair and toying with the idea of leaving David.

Everything changes when David goes to see a faith healer named DJ GoodNews about his ailing back. GoodNews cures far more than that. David has a sort of epiphany and becomes a caring, sensitive man, seemingly the perfect husband. So why isn't Katie happy? Because he's too good, what with his taking in the homeless and giving away possessions and so forth. But can David really save the world? And does Katie want him to?

What's good about "Good" is that unlike other existential books, it doesn't take the ultimate cop out of saying the journey or the question is more important than the answer. Not that it provides much in the way of answers either, because let's face it, if anyone could really tell you the meaning of life they wouldn't be wasting their time writing novels.

The novel is humorous, but mostly in that dry, British way that American readers might not find especially uproarious. At the same time the plight of the Carr family as they battle their liberal guilt raises serious issues that are true for most every suburbanite. Because really, what is being "good" in this materialistic Western society? Is it making a few charitable donations at Christmastime or do you have to go to extremes like David? In which case, how can you keep sane?

Still, as I said earlier, this wasn't a particularly compelling novel for me. The writing was sound and the story entertaining enough, but it's not exactly a page-turner either. I suppose other readers may have a different reaction, but I'd say this is a book you don't desperately need to read. It's just not good enough.

That is all.

Boomsday

Boomsday
by Christophere Buckley
(4/5 stars)

Amid the problems of the Iraq war, the collapsing housing market, global warming, oil dependency, terrorism, and immigration is another problem that America's been on course for since 1937 when FDR created the Social Security Administration as part of his Depression relief programs. Unfortunately, with the government's characteristic short-sightedness the Social Security program essentially operates as a pyramid scheme with the people at the bottom paying for the retirees at the top. That was all fine except for the Baby Boom generation born from 1946-1964.

The "Boomers" are not only one of the most populous generations in American history, but in their short-sightedness have run up huge national debts and failed to produce enough offspring to cover their Social Security payments. Hence, conventional wisdom dictates that one day the whole pyramid scheme will collapse on a date known as "Boomsday."

Fortunately for all of us, Christopher Buckley's novel is far more interesting than those dry facts I've just presented. The story revolves around Cassandra Devine, a regular Supergirl being young, blond, and vice-president of a public relations firm without using her body to get ahead. Her father squandered her college money to start up a software company in the '90s, so Cassandra entered the Army, where she met Congressman Randy Jepperson on a fact-finding tour in Bosnia. Jepperson commandeers Cass's vehicle, driving it into a minefield that blows off his leg while leaving her relatively unharmed. Fast forward about ten years to where Cass is leading a Blogger revolution to fix the Social Security program without burdening the younger generation with high taxes. Her solution is to encourage Boomers to kill themselves at age 70, sort of a voluntary "Logan's Run." She finds an unlikely ally in now-Senator Jepperson, who champions the "Transition" program to garner attention for himself and a presidential run. But the proposal brings Cass and Jepperson into conflict with a southern minister named Gideon Payne (who might have run his mother off a cliff), the president of the United States, and Cass's now-wealthy father. It all leads to the most bizarre presidential campaign in history.

The main problem with the book is that this campaign is covered in all of sixty pages. I think we all know that especially now days these campaigns seem interminable. So it feels like a lot of build-up only to get let down by a rushed ending.

However, Buckley's story is witty and provocative. It serves as the same kind of "meta-issue" as Cass's Transition program in that it gets the reader to consider yet another of the many, many problems facing Americans in the 21st Century. You might not agree with the facts and opinions presented--especially if you're a Boomer ready to retire--but it does get you thinking about not only the problem with Social Security, but the government in general.

To me it was kind of like Tom Wolfe Lite, with a quick pace and without the kind of minute details that make Wolfe's novels twice as long. The downside of that is the characters feel more shallow than Wolfe's. As well, "Boomsday" is a novel that clearly exists only in the immediate moment of its conception with its references to blogging, Google, iPods, and "Desperate Housewives" and lacks the kind of in-depth anatomy of society that makes "Bonfire of the Vanities" relevant twenty years later. Which is to say that in five years no one will care about "Boomsday" the novel. Boomsday the real thing on the other hand might be another story.

But then most of us don't buy new books because we want to read them five years later--that's what the "classics" are for. So why not give this witty, insightful book a try? Best of all, you can look smart at cocktail parties (or whatever social gathering) by being able to intelligently discuss this important issue.

That is all.

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish
(Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy #4)
by Douglas Adams
(4/5 stars)

I just spent a long weekend catching up on this series by reading books 2-4. I have to say I enjoyed "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" far more than I enjoyed the previous two books in the "increasingly inaccurate trilogy." The difference for me is that with this fourth novel Adams seems to take a far more focused approach to the story instead of running around like a kid in the toy aisle as he did in the second and third books. (And really I thought the end of the third novel was a huge cop-out that I could see coming from 93 million miles away.)

In the first book of the series, Earth was destroyed by the bureaucratic Vogons to make room for a hyperspace bypass, subsequently displacing Arthur Dent. Eight years later (for Arthur, not for anyone else) Arthur hitchhikes back to find Earth is back and the whole Vogon demolition chalked up to a mass hallucination caused by the CIA. The only difference is that the dolphins that disappeared before Earth's demise in the first book are still missing. When he comes back, Arthur gets a ride from a man who has a beautiful (albeit crazy) sister in the backseat whom Arthur is instantly smitten with, if only he can find her.

So what we have in this book is actually a sort of romance as Arthur tracks down the woman named Fenchurch for where she was conceived--that's one of those things that's probably funnier if you're British and have been to Fenchurch Station--and they fall in love. Then in the very rushed last couple chapters of the book they go off to visit Wonko the Sane, an expert on dolphins, and in search of God's Last Message to the Universe with the help of Ford Prefect and a giant robot who invades Earth to talk to our "lizards."

Overall, as I said in the beginning, I liked that with this book Adams focused almost exclusively on Arthur and thus we actually have a little bit of character development, which was sorely lacking in parts two and three. I only wish Adams would have taken a little more time with the ending as they get from Earth to this other place far too quickly. Maybe he could have broken it up into two books. But still it's the best in the series since the first one in my mind--others will disagree I'm sure.

On a final note, it doesn't sound like I want to read the fifth one as it sounds like Fenny is written off with little fanfare, thus rendering most of this book moot. What a shame that is.

That is all.

A Million Little Pieces

A Million Little Pieces

by James Frey

(3/5 stars)

I finally decided to read this long after the Oprah controversy died out. Unless you've been under the proverbial rock there's no need to explain all that, except to mention that while it was originally published as nonfiction, we've since found out it is to some (if not most) extent fiction. As some kind of compromise, my library reshelved it in the substance abuse section, but you can still see the sticker from when it was in the biography section.

My take on the controversy is I never cared if he did lie or not. The validity of opinions aren't whether they happen or not. As a great fiction writer taught me, it's not whether the book is true as in it happened, so much as if it's true in spirit. The problem then with Frey's fictitious biography is its increasing phoniness as he falls in love and becomes the Chosen One with the power of resisting addiction without the Twelve Steps or any of that AA noise.

The story (how much is real or not depends on what Web sites you visit, I'm sure) is that after going on a monster bender in the wake of being dumped--and in the process badly mangling his face--his family gets him into a world-renowned treatment center. His first days are especially brutal as he undergoes drug therapy and then has two root canals with no anesthetic. (If you've have a root canal WITH anesthetic then you have to get the chills thinking about that.) Frey never goes along with the AA program or Twelve Steps because he doesn't believe in God. Instead he relies on the Chinese Tao, intestinal fortitude, and love with another patient named Lilly. Since dating between patients is forbidden they have to see each other in The Clearing on the QT. I doubt I'm spoiling anything by saying he survives the rehab and eventually gets out--how else could he have gone on Oprah 15 years later?

I was really interested in the opening third or so of the book as he begins recovery and his body starts to heal. For me things began to go downhill when Leonard the mobster (who is prominently featured in the even more preposterous-sounding sequel) convinces Frey to stay in treatment in a scene right out of Hollywood. That Frey worked as a screenwriter makes sense with the mobster cliche and especially the cute hooker with a heart of gold cliche in Lilly. Say what you want, but I didn't believe either of them existed, at least not in that way.

The whole secret love affair struck me as especially false, the kind of thing a Hollywood screenwriter would put in to make the story more attractive to women. By the time he rescues her from a crack house I was shaking my head with disbelief. And when one of the treatment center workers tells him afterwards that "he shouldn't have been able to do that" I snorted with derision. "What is he, Neo or Blade or Ghost Rider or something?" I was thinking to myself--not in those exact words, of course. Then we have to suffer through the predictable farewells and the final scene in the bar.

No one in this book, not even James Frey himself, seemed like a real person to me. They all seemed like characters and that's where the book fails. Whether it's fiction or nonfiction, a story like this has to have people who seem real or it doesn't work. As for the overall message, in the end it seems as simple as "Just Say No," which I'm sure most people battling some form of addiction seems too simplistic.

I walk away from this disappointed not that Frey didn't tell the truth about what actually happened, but that he didn't tell the truth in spirit.

That is all.

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

by Dave Eggers

(5/5 stars)

When I recently read Kerouac's "On the Road" I lamented that I read it too late in life for it to really change my life. "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" on the other hand I read at the exact right time. If I'd read it five years earlier or five years later I would have been out of touch with the material.

The book opens (after the preface, which you can read or not--I skipped it) with Dave Eggers's mother dying of cancer. At the same time his father also has some kind of cancer, though this was a little less clear. After both parents succumb to their illness, the Eggers clan moves from their dull little Chicago suburb--the kind of place immortalized in John Hughes movies where the most exciting event was Mr. T moving in--to the Left Coast. Older brother Bill moves to LA where Dave, his sister Beth, and younger brother Christopher (called Toph) go to San Francisco. Because Bill is busy with work and Beth has school, Dave ends up caring for Toph.

In a Hollywood version it would probably end up like "Mr. Mom" or "Mrs. Doubtfire" at this point with lots of slapstick as a slacker twentysomething has to care for a 10-year-old boy. In reality (or what's more or less reality) they live like college roommates in semi-squalor, constantly running late to various appointments. In general Toph is a good kid who doesn't create much trouble for Dave--doesn't start running with a gang or shooting drugs or torturing small animals. Not that it's all a breeze; most of the trouble is caused by trying to convince various private schools and such that Dave is Toph's guardian.

Dave does temp jobs in graphic design while also working for "Might Magazine," an upstart youth culture magazine that like all of Gen X in the early-mid-'90s launches a futile rebellion for no real reason. (Come on, what the heck were we rebelling against with the grunge and Nirvana? I have no idea, really.) They pull stunts like try to audition for the "Real World" (when reality TV was a new concept) and fake the death of the kid from "Eight is Enough." From all appearances the magazine is never really that successful. I have a slight bit of knowledge in this area and know how tough it is, especially in this age where everyone can have a blog or website.

What I think really resonates at this point is the experience of not just growing up, but your family growing up and growing apart. As a kid, most of us don't put too much thought into our parents always being there, but as we get older we realize our parents are all too human and prone to the same weaknesses as anyone else. At the same time, the siblings you used to spend so much time with eventually move away and develop lives of their own that you no longer are much of a part of and in time can become almost like strangers. But the good thing about "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" is that Eggers never gets too weepy or maudlin to make the experience dreary or dull. Instead, his almost surreal descriptions tinge even the darkest moments like a friend in a coma and another who attempts suicide with dark humor. Dave's neurotic inner-life reminds me of a less-sexual "Portnoy's Complaint" by Philip Roth, only it's more or less real, which is more amazing.

It might be interesting to read this book in five years and see how much it still resonates with me, or if by then this book and I grow apart as well. Wait and see.

That is all.

A Dirty Job

A Dirty Job

by Christopher Moore

(3/5 stars)

I think there's a reason the more humorous books I've read like "Slaughterhouse-Five" or "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" are around 200 pages. If it goes on much longer than that, the plot becomes too ridiculous and the bit overdone like an SNL sketch that goes on for fifteen minutes. So maybe if "A Dirty Job" would have wrapped about 200 pages earlier I would have enjoyed it more.

The book is about Charlie Asher, Beta Male (Betas are the nerds to the Alpha Male jocks in "Revenge of the Nerds"), whose wife dies after giving birth. Charlie sees someone in the room, someone no one else can see and because of this and perhaps other reasons, he becomes a Death Merchant. If you only skim the book jacket and Amazon descriptions you might think this is about Charlie Asher becoming the Grim Reaper and having to perform the functions of Death--the sort of thing that's been done before recently on "Family Guy" and "The Simpsons" for popular culture examples. That's not what a Death Merchant does; what exactly a Death Merchant does is a little unclear. They go to the houses of those who are dead or dying and take glowing objects that contain the person's soul. Then they wait to sell the object to someone else and perhaps the soul will transfer to that person. (Don't ask me to get into the logical and philosophical dynamics of this. The less said, the better.)

Complicating things are the Forces of Darkness, who are shadowy raven-women called the Morrigan. (What Celtic spirits of the underworld are doing in San Francisco is another matter best not contemplated. You'd think they'd be in New York or Boston or somewhere with a higher percentage of Irish descendants, but maybe they wanted to retire somewhere warmer?) The Morrigan want to steal the souls and use them to gain all their old powers and take over the world. Charlie, together with a Goth girl who works for him at his second-hand store, a huge black man named Minty Fresh, and an army of critters pieced together from animal carcasses must do battle with the Underworld to save humanity! (You see what I mean about this getting ridiculous yet?)

The book does at least retain its sense of humor throughout, with some snappy banter between the characters. Though, really, the Goth girl, the lesbian sister dressing in Charlie's clothes, and Asian neighbor who wants to eat all of Charlie's pets are a little stale. And the Arab who starts screaming "Death to the infidel!" when he finds out one of Charlie's dogs is named Mohammad might be racially offensive.

The absolute worst thing about this book is that it employs a phenomenon often seen on TV and movies. (I remember reading about it last year but can't remember the exact term. I think it even has a Wikipedia page.) That is, the plot depends on our hero being an idiot and overlooking the obvious for about 300 pages and five years. You can figure out the big plot twist on who is the book's Neo, The Chosen One, by the first third of the novel. If you can't stare long and hard at the cover and maybe the answer will come to you. But Charlie, because the plot depends on it, can't figure this out, nor can any of his friends. There's not much worse when you get to the dramatic conclusion and already know how it's going to turn out, so that even as Charlie is battling the Forces of Darkness in an epic struggle and you're thinking, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get to it already."

There are one or two serious thoughts on death that are interesting. Nothing too sappy or morose to drag down the book's light tone. The book just goes on for too long with our hero being unaware of the obvious, so while it's entertaining enough, it wears out its welcome.

That is all.

Housekeeping

Housekeeping

by Marilynne Robinson

(2/5 stars)

Having already read books like "A Thousand Acres," "The Blind Assassin," and "The Stone Diaries" I thought I'd be well-equipped to handle this book. I was wrong. I hadn't prepared myself for a book this dull with characters this bland and opaque.

The story takes place in a western town called Fingerbone and is told by Ruthie. Ruthie's grandfather brought his family to Fingerbone in the search for adventure, solitude, and serenity in the mountains. Instead, the grandfather winds up dying in a train accident so that his three daughters are raised alone by his wife in their house. The daughters sit around braiding each other's hair and baking cookies and reading. (The excitement is killing me!) The oldest daughter Molly goes off to China as a missionary and never returns. The middle daughter Helen marries a man and has two daughters--Ruthie and Lucille--in Seattle. The youngest girl Sylvie marries a man as well but soon disappears and generally lives like a hobo.

Then one day Helen returns with her daughters to Fingerbone. After leaving Ruthie and Lucille with the grandma, Helen drives the car she borrowed from a cliff--does the owner's insurance cover that? Since the other sisters have vanished, the grandma takes over raising Ruthie and Lucille for a few years, where they braid hair, bake cookies, and read. When the grandmother dies, two nervous aunts take over the braiding, baking, and reading until the excitement of small town life and raising these two handfuls (please take note of the sarcasm) becomes too much for them. Fortunately by this time they've gotten word to Sylvie, who shows up to care for Ruthie and Sylvie.

Now things really shift into overdrive where the braiding and baking is replaced by fishing and ice skating and camping out at the lake. Sylvie remains mysterious and is prone to some hobo ways like saving tin cans and old magazines and sometimes sleeping on a park bench. Lucille, though the younger child, matures faster and wants a more normal life. This creates a rift between her and the less-mature Ruthie as well as Sylvie.

I think you can tell from my sarcastic plot summary that I really didn't find much entertainment value here. The writing is pretty enough, but there's not much happening in the story of interest. At the end I was left trying to find the "why" in this story, as in why Sylvie was the way she was and why she'd left her husband and so forth. I never think it's good when I have more questions AFTER reading the book than before.

Anyway, I didn't think any of the books I mentioned at the beginning were all that exciting either, though "Blind Assassin" at least had more mysterious elements to keep my interest. "Housekeeping" is just another bland coming-of-age family saga that's as dull and dreary as the fog-shrouded railroad tracks on the cover--and they say you can't judge a book by its cover, ha!

That is all.

Fight Club

Fight Club

by Chuck Palahniuk

(4/5 stars)

This is one of those books I read solely out of that sick curiosity that makes people crane their necks in the car to see an accident on the highway. I'm not sure entirely what I thought I would find, except a lot of guys whaling on each other. What I found is a modern Marxian fairy tale of alienation and the class struggle in America.

The unnamed narrator is just your Average Joe with a boring, menial office job of calculating via a sick formula whether his car manufacturing company should issue recalls or not--this formula does not take ethics or morals into account. He lives in a generic high-rise condo with lots of generic IKEA furniture. And he increasingly cannot sleep. As a way to combat his loneliness and despair, Average Joe goes to various support groups and fakes having whatever disease, whether it's blood parasites or testicular cancer. It's at one of these meetings that he meets Marla Singer, whom he reviles for horning in on his action.

Then one day on the beach he meets Tyler Durden. They become fast friends and then one day at a bar Tyler asks Average Joe to punch him as hard as he can. This leads to the founding of "fight club." The first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club, which is also the second rule. Anyway, in fight club two guys beat each other up until one yields or is knocked unconscious. (Surprisingly no one ever dies.) This changes Average Joe's whole perspective of the world, so that he starts coming into work with black eyes and a hole in his cheek and so forth. But just fighting is not enough for Tyler, who soon begins grooming the men of fight club into a terrorist organization to carry out Project Mayhem. This leads to the ultimate confrontation between Tyler and Average Joe--if you've watched or even heard about the movie then you probably already know the big plot twist.

I seem to recall a lot of people in the media going on about how fight club was about regaining lost masculinity in the modern world and so forth. Pshaw! That may be a part of it, but as I said in the beginning, this is a Marxian fairy tale about the proletariat discovering the strength to rise up against the bourgeois to level out the playing field. If you disagree, you need only to think about who's in fight club. Men, certainly, but what kind of men? Waiters, mechanics, bus drivers, office drones, beat cops, and others slaving away at boring, dead-end, low-paying jobs. The targets of Project Mayhem are high-rise buildings, expensive hotels, ATMs, and other symbols of wealth and class in modern civilization.

This book is written in a jumbled, schizophrenic style that can make this a difficult read at times. There is some blood and gore, but perhaps not as much fighting as I would have expected. There's also some perhaps stomach-turning descriptions about how to render human fat into soap and some descriptions of various genitalia that Tyler splices into movies, so this is not for the faint of heart! At just about 200 pages it shouldn't take you much longer to read the book than to watch the movie, which I still haven't done.

If you like your Marxism with a little blood and gore, then this book's for you.

That is all...

Bonfire of the Vanities

Bonfire of the Vanities
by Tom Wolfe
(4/5 stars)

In all 31 flavors of "Law and Order on TV, the NYPD and DA's office disposes of a case from the incident to the trial in an hour—sometimes two if it's a two-part episode. In"Bonfire of the Vanities" Tom Wolfe does the same thing in about 700pages. That's because Wolfe brings to bear all the complexities of trying a case in the real world.
In the mid-1980s, Sherman McCoy is a bond salesman at Pierce& Pierce, a self-described "Master of the Universe" with a three million-dollar apartment on Park Avenue, a wife who spends thousands on decorating it, a six-year-old daughter who attends a pricey private school, and a mistress named Maria Ruskin, who herself is wealthy from marrying a much-older man. One night Sherman goes to pick Maria up at the airport and their Mercedes Benz becomes lost on the seedy streets of the Bronx. They're approached by two black kids, and from there the "Master of the Universe"becomes an unwitting pawn of a black "reverend" hungry for publicity, a drunken British reporter hungry for a story, and a Bronx DA hungry for re-election. Because in the real world,cases aren't solved in an hour and "justice" is a game won or lost based on who can cheat the most and get away with it.

Like an ancient Greek tragedy, McCoy has to pay for his hubris. So do some of the other characters, although others are seemingly rewarded for their bad behavior. This is certainly not a novel of white hats and black hats where the good guys triumph and the bad guys get their just reward. If you want that, you'd better stick to the TV.

What Wolfe does so well with this book is to paint the "big picture" of New York City in the 1980s with its melting pot of Irish, Italians,Jews, blacks, Puerto Ricans, and Wasps. All of these rival factions collide with the McCoy case to depict not just the justice system, but society as a whole. It's an unflattering image to say the least, even viewed through the prism of satire. More importantly,the image of black against white and rich against poor is still applicable today in America's major cities. That makes Wolfe's book as relevant today as it was back in the '80s.

Wolfe's writing itself can get a little tedious and long-winded at times. There are so manynuances and complexities and tangents going on throughout the book. While these provide richness and depth, at some point it becomes overkill. The stuff about the mayor and the Episcopal Church was interesting, but not really necessary. As well there are…so many ellipses…and exclamation points! It can be a little irritating after 700 pages.

Still, it's a relatively minor flaw in what is a great book that even at 700 pages shouldn't take too long to read because it's so funny and clever that it's hard to put down. I had previously read Wolfe's "Man in Full" that came out ten years after "Bonfire of the Vanities" and has many of the similar themes of race,class, and a rich man in legal peril, though it takes place in Atlanta instead of New York. I'd recommend that book as well.

As for the 1990 movie of "Bonfire of the Vanities" it pretty much makes every critic's worst list, so I wouldn't recommend that. The movie does stick to at least most of the book's main points. In its defense, it would be impossible to depict all the subtleties and nuances of Wolfe's novel on the big screen. Trying to adapt it really was an impossible mission.

That is all…