Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Pat Conroy has never been a queer woman.


The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy has an absorbing plot and beautiful sketches of the American South. The main character, Tom Wingo, finds out his schizophrenic poet sister has attempted suicide and goes to New York to try to help her. Helping her mostly consists of talking about how his parents were abusive and sleeping with her therapist. The book has mass appeal and has been a bestseller (easy to read, long enough words to make people feel smart without being obscure enough to go to the dictionary, pretty cover). Critics like it (white people with dysfunctional families are always a hit).

The first problem is that though there are many surprises, there are also many utterly predictable plot points. From the moment his sister's therapist, Dr. Lowenstien, makes her entrance, it is obvious Tom will wind up sleeping with her. This is the kind of book where if a main female character is described as "attractive," she'll end up naked with the protagonist. It's a wonder authors ever get laid.

That, however, is small beans compared to Conroy's apparent inability to grasp reality. Savannah (Crazy Sister) is a famous poet living in New York City. Dr. Lowenstien takes her as a patient in part because she hopes to be the therapist-who-helped-the-tortured-poet and thus become famous herself. Because that's how all the big celebrities made their start.

Another incident in the The Prince of Tides that made me stop and scratch my head was Savannah's children's book. This book is about three children who befriend animals, almost get raped by three bad guys who come to their house, but are able to summon help from their animal friends who kill the offenders. Frankly, I think a parent would have to be seriously sick to ever consider reading this to his or her children.

The final reason this book rubbed me the wrong way was Tom Wingo's obsessive self-pity that I suspect Conroy shares. Tom constantly goes on about how white Southern males are discriminated against. (Granted, this is true. Southern people are often assumed to be ugly, provincial, and stupid by other Americans, and it's a prejudice that most of us hold without thinking.) Dr. Lowenstien's first question to Tom is if he has ever called anyone a nigger. It's never clear how this relates to Tom's coming to help Savannah, but as a liberal Jewish woman obviously Lowenstien must hate Tom for being white and Southern and straight and male. Uh-huh. Then later in the book Tom meets one of Savannah's friends, a gay man. No, this man is not portrayed as a three-dimensional human being, rather he is flamboyant and polyamorous, flirts with Tom constantly, and throws around the word "honey" a lot. Eventually Conroy condescendingly has Tom befriend Gay Man, showing that he is not a homophobic southern man while also happily writing off gays as frivolous and lacking any traits beyond their sexual orientation. Tom also has many run-ins with lesbian feminists who are friends of his sister. Unsurprisingly, they all hate Tom because of his being a man and all. There are a lot of words about how this is unfair and how Tom feels bad. Conroy doesn't seem to understand that maybe, just maybe, one faces more discrimination as a queer woman than as a young straight white male. Besides, lesbians love guys, it's the women who sleep with them who become man-haters. Ask any lezbro.

In other words, I don't think I'll be buying The Pat Conroy Cookbook anytime soon.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Mystery time: better than Ikea


So recently I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I was a bit skeptical at first, because much of his books' successes seem to be based on Larsson dying right after submitting them, and because I saw a poster for it in Barnes and Noble (which usually signals a stinker).

But I was wrong! This book was gripping and well-written. The pacing is very slow at first (though this may be because he is Swedish) but picks up to some insane suspense in the final chapters. One warning: things get crazy. B-A-N-A-N-A-S crazy.

Anyway, I'm excited for the next book in this trilogy to come out in paperback, and for the final book to be translated into English. Publishers, get off your butts!

Friday, September 25, 2009

Wait, what? Killer unicorns.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Rampant by Diana Peterfreund has a unique premise: unicorns exist, and they want to kill us.

"Forget everything you ever knew about unicorns...

The sparkly, innocent creatures of lore are a myth. Real unicorns are venomous, man-eating monsters with huge fangs and razor-sharp horns. And they can only be killed by virgin descendants of Alexander the Great."

Actually, Peterfreund takes unicorn legends from other cultures and incorporates them into her story, according to her official website. Instead of the "modern," harmless unicorns, hers seem to bear more resemblance to the karkadann or maybe the Shadhavar, both one-horned animals who are hostile to humans. The cryptozoology geek in me thinks this is a great idea.

I probably won't read this, but if they turn it into a movie I predict it will be an instant cult classic. Who wouldn't love a unicorn gorefest?

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A few of my favorite things

This is my mandatory introduction post. I'm a 20-year-old college student studying comparative history of ideas and classical languages (I know, right). I live mostly in Seattle but sometimes in Berkeley, CA. This blog is not meant to be any scholarly or impartial analysis of books I read. Instead it is a place to vent my opinions about books and book-y stuff.

That being said, I thought I'd begin on a good note and post a few of my favorite books.

First, Banana Yoshimoto is one of the best and most underrated authors of all time, and Kitchen is one of her best works. Though it was a hit in Japan, here in the US it hasn't been as successful. Unfortunately the cover doesn't fit the book; the story itself is pretty existential. It's not easy to summarize, but it's about a young woman who loses her entire family and goes to live with an acquaintance of hers while her life is in turmoil. And, uh, she is drawn to kitchens. You know what? Just read it.

Another favorite of mine is Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City. The series has its ups and downs, and the recently-published Michael Tolliver Lives was definitely a down, but the first book is fun and breezy and a great way to spend the afternoon. It began as a serial in the San Francisco Chronicle and has some references to contemporary events and a good deal of thinly-veiled celebrities show up in its pages. I wouldn't say this was any kind of deep literature, but it's a favorite nevertheless. (Plus, look how pretty the covers on the new editions are!)

The last book I'm going to post today is my inspiration for this blog, The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby. Actually, this is a series of three books, which are compilations of Hornby's book reviews for The Believer magazine. Each month he has a "Books Bought" and "Books Read" list. His commentary is hilarious, as well as his futile attempts to read all the books he buys.

Until next time, cheerio!