litlover12: (Default)
The Reef isn't bad -- I don't think Wharton published a bad book -- but she piles up the nuances and descriptions until they're almost suffocating. And if she had used "luminous" to describe just one more aspect of the landscape, I was going to go blind.

Pssssst . . . Edith, honey, you don't have to write like Henry James. You already write better than he does.

The plot is a little artificial -- My Fiancee's Stepson Is Marrying the Girl I Had an Affair With sounds more like Jerry Springer than Edith Wharton. But the fallout from all this is appropriately devastating. And the characterization is good, especially of Anna Leath. I love this: "She dreaded above all the temptation to generalise from her own case, to doubt the high things she had lived by and seek a cheap solace in belittling what fate had refused her. There was such love as she had dreamed, and she meant to go on believing in it, and cherishing the thought that she was worthy of it. What had happened to her was grotesque and mean and miserable; but she herself was none of these things, and never, never would she make of herself the mock that fate had made of her . . . " Except for the "she was worthy" part, that sounds like one of my favorite passages about Arthur Clennam (and would that Arthur had realized sooner that he was worthy!).

Anna's perpetual "I can't give him up/I'll give him up/I can't give him up/I must give him up/Do I really have to give him up?" in the last part of the book gets tiresome, but it's all too realistic. And so is Anna's realization that the person you love and feel in complete sympathy with, can be the same person who does things that horrify you and that you can't understand at all. That is achingly realistic and very well portrayed.

It's a sad and bleak little book on the whole, and the Jamesian stuff is over the top, but it has some magnificent moments. Three-and-a-half out of five stars.

Now for Woe Is I: The Grammarphobe's Guide to Better English in Plain English, Second Edition, by Patricia T. O'Conner. I'm not a grammarphobe, but it looks like a fun and interesting read. And a quick one, which right now is just what the doctor ordered. I'm going at a pretty good pace, but I'm a little behind where I wanted to be at this point.
litlover12: (WC1)
Certain parts of it are formulaic -- when you open your novel with an evil tycoon luring an antagonist into a silo full of corn, it doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to guess what's coming. Certain parts of it are gross -- after all, Dr. Nick "The Bug Man" Polchak loves nothing better than to chat about insects and what they do to human bodies. And certain parts of it cross the line between quirky and just plain unbelievable -- more on that in a moment.

And yet with all that, Ends of the Earth is still a thoroughly good read. Nick, as always, is irresistible with his singlemindedness and his one-liners, which occasionally rise to Dr. House-like levels -- and that's a compliment I don't pay lightly. He's kept me reading for four books now despite being one of the most squeamish readers ever. (The first Bug Man novel I read made me decide to be cremated when I die.) As for the plot, despite its formulaic moments, it has a good solid premise and some cool twists and turns.

Nick's relationships are not quite as well-drawn as his character. An element of romance has been present in each previous novel -- in a way that sort of bugged me (har!), because I'm always a little annoyed by series in which there's a new love interest in every installment. Make a choice and settle down, I say. Well, here Nick decides to do just that . . . in a way that sort of works and sort of doesn't. To begin with, we have a love triangle with Nick and two women from previous novels -- if you can call it a triangle when both women are after Nick and he spends much of the book not even noticing -- so at least we're recycling and not bringing in yet ANOTHER woman. There's something in that. And though I don't like love triangles as a rule, there's at least a bit of originality in the way that the two women in question, Kathryn and Alena, grow to be friends and to look out for each other in a dangerous situation. And one of them, I won't say who, really got me rooting for her. She's gutsy and smart and goes after what she wants without beating around the bush.

What doesn't exactly work is that we see very little of Nick's mental processes as he falls in love with one of the women, so when he finally decides to propose, I was half "Goody!" and the other half "Really?" And here's where we get all gimmicky -- Downs ends the book without saying to whom Nick proposed! You had to go to his website and vote!! After the shock and a brief moment of hating the author with the heat of a thousand suns, I rushed to the site to do just that. Turned out I was too late, the voting had already closed . . . but, joy and relief, my choice had won by a huge margin. In the next book, which Downs is writing now, she'll be either engaged or married to Nick. In a way I like this (hurray, he's making a choice and settling down!); in another way I can't help feeling it's all been just a little too quirky, and maybe a little too rushed; but in yet another way -- am I running out of ways? -- the weirdness of it kind of fits the characters and the general tone of the story.

So . . . I can't say that the story works the whole time. But I can say that when it works, it really works. Three-and-a-half out of five stars. I have a feeling the next one, when it comes out, may be higher; when we see Nick actually settled into a stable relationship with a very cool lady who gets him, I think it'll probably be better written than all the will-he-or-won't-he stuff. I just hope he gets her as well as she gets him.

Next: The Reef by Edith Wharton. In his introduction, Louis Auchincloss calls it "a Jamesian novel." Uh-oh.
litlover12: (AH1)
According to Hermione Lee's biography of Edith Wharton, she and Henry James may have been friends, but that didn't stop her from parodying him, like so:

. . . It was not that, as Mrs. Byas said, one couldn't always buy a new umbrella.

From the visibly permissible assumption of the conjecturer's solvency one might, it was clear, predicate without risk of tenable refutation, his congenital capacity for the spontaneous gratification of even more considerable exigencies. Figuratively & literally, Mr. Valentine Grope would, one instantly surmised, be always able to buy a new umbrella; but then, as he, with a not wholly unapt delimitation of her axiom, permitted himself to point out to his admirable friend, it would always be a new umbrella.

"There, my good woman, is the rub."

She glanced at him with a sense of the after all never wholly evitable hindrances to complete communion.
You GO Edith! It sounds exactly like him.

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