winterbadger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winterbadger) wrote2010-11-06 01:27 pm
winterbadger) wrote2010-11-06 01:27 pm
50books2010: two more (and a review)
One new book, one re-read, and a review of a previous title.
29. The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson. The second in his by-now famous trilogy. I've been dancing back and forth with these; I started reading the first one at my sister's and was gripped by it, but I didn't get a copy of my own when I came home. I ended up seeing the movie (with The Globetrotter, IIRC) and enjoyed it, but I'm still looking forward to reading the book because I find his writing compelling. So, I bought and consumed the second volume, but missed the film in the theatres. I saw it was playing again locally, and went to see it last night. I realised as it began that this was not the film of "...Played with Fire" but that of "...Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest"--the third volume! Yes, I do occasionally totally space out. But, I figured, I'm here now--I might as well watch it. And, again, I thought it was massive and want to read the book. I got home, it was late but not that late, and I thought, "I wonder if Netflix has "...Played with Fire" on Instant View. And of course they did, so of course I stayed up until 1.30 watching it, and of course it was good.
I'm not sure whether it's his writing style or his characters that I like more about Larsson. The plots are good, but I had figured out one of the major secrets to "Played with Fire" before it was revealed, and one of the major secrets to "Dragon Tattoo" was pretty clear before it was confirmed (though, in both cases, there were surprises I didn't see coming). I think part of what I enjoy is that none of the characters are treated like extras. If he tells you anything about a person, he tells you enough to show you that they are a real person with thoughts and feelings and, well, character. I can't recommend these books highly enough. They are frequently grim and occasionally horrifying, but both elements have a purpose to them in illustrating people and creating a story--they aren't just there for titillation, as a kind of anti-sex to see how shocked and disgusted the author can make you. I've run into books like that, and I get rid of them as fast as possible, and wash my hands afterwards.
30. The Return of Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse. a rare "Jeeves without Bertie" story. Wodehouse is entertaining and amusing, if you're in the right frame of mind. I think I wasn't in quite the right frame of mind while reading this, so it wasn't all that amusing, just mildly entertaining. Plot #23 of the Wodehouse stable of formulaic plots: Set--a crumbling country house set; enter young lovers who can't marry because (parents don't approve/don't have enough money/one has noble but fat-headed scruple to overcome/insert other response), add other couples as needed; split up couples and rejoin as needed; insert financial/social macguffin; spice with mistaken or disguised identity and trivial criminal activity; bring to boil and then cool gently. This is enlivened by a little of what passes for social commentary in Wodehouse--set in the early 1950s, the plot is influenced by Britain's postwar fling with socialism, so all the central characters are as titled and ennobled as ever, but they mooch about complaining that they haven't a bean because they've lost it all to death duties. All except for the amiable but buffoonish Sir Roderick, who is inordinately boastful about his position as a floor-walker for Harrod's. Maybe it's just me, but this slim volume was more than usually the "bag of crisps" that Woodehouse novels usually are.
And, because![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
watervole asked for it last time, a few comments on #21, Dolly and the Nanny Bird by Dorothy Dunnett. I'm terrifically fond of Dorothy Dunnett's historical novels, as many of you know. Her detective novels are set in the modern era (which is to say, for the most part, the 1970s :-) and take place in many of the same locales as her historical novels, or ones related to them. They each feature as central characters a "bird"--a capable, intelligent, independent-minded young woman (a different one in each novel) and the yacht Dolly, "a gaff-rigged ketch", along with her owner, the bifocal-ed portrait-painter Johnson Johnson (thus drawing on one of Dame Dorothy's other talents--portraiture--and the love of sailing she shared with her husband.) Each of the "birds" is distinguished by her occupation, which is worked into the title and features prominently in the plot; in this book, the protagonist is a Margaret Beaton Nanny, the graduate of a fictional nanny-training college modeled on the gold-standard Norland College. She's recruited to work for a difficult family in New York City, and the adventures she endures take her from the wintry wastes of central Canada to the storm-tossed Adriatic. The plots of these novels are generally a tad complex for my taste and end up with an expositional explanation by Johnson toward the end, explaining the convoluted intricacies that you will follow in detail if you remember who was the *only* person who could have left the shattered remains of the fake icon in the soiled nappy in the toilet next door back in Chapter 3. But the characters (it's always about the characters for me), especially the smart, intrepid female leads and their foil, the ever-present Johnson, always do it for me, as does the often climactic sailing crisis and all the little bits of daily life on a sailboat. I love these books, despite their sometimes dated settings (Dunnett makes heavy use of fashion and trendy designer/trade names to make them sound as up-to-date and posh as possible--40 years later, it's kind of funny), and I can reread them regularly for the settings, the nautical elements, and the strong female leads.
29. The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson. The second in his by-now famous trilogy. I've been dancing back and forth with these; I started reading the first one at my sister's and was gripped by it, but I didn't get a copy of my own when I came home. I ended up seeing the movie (with The Globetrotter, IIRC) and enjoyed it, but I'm still looking forward to reading the book because I find his writing compelling. So, I bought and consumed the second volume, but missed the film in the theatres. I saw it was playing again locally, and went to see it last night. I realised as it began that this was not the film of "...Played with Fire" but that of "...Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest"--the third volume! Yes, I do occasionally totally space out. But, I figured, I'm here now--I might as well watch it. And, again, I thought it was massive and want to read the book. I got home, it was late but not that late, and I thought, "I wonder if Netflix has "...Played with Fire" on Instant View. And of course they did, so of course I stayed up until 1.30 watching it, and of course it was good.
I'm not sure whether it's his writing style or his characters that I like more about Larsson. The plots are good, but I had figured out one of the major secrets to "Played with Fire" before it was revealed, and one of the major secrets to "Dragon Tattoo" was pretty clear before it was confirmed (though, in both cases, there were surprises I didn't see coming). I think part of what I enjoy is that none of the characters are treated like extras. If he tells you anything about a person, he tells you enough to show you that they are a real person with thoughts and feelings and, well, character. I can't recommend these books highly enough. They are frequently grim and occasionally horrifying, but both elements have a purpose to them in illustrating people and creating a story--they aren't just there for titillation, as a kind of anti-sex to see how shocked and disgusted the author can make you. I've run into books like that, and I get rid of them as fast as possible, and wash my hands afterwards.
30. The Return of Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse. a rare "Jeeves without Bertie" story. Wodehouse is entertaining and amusing, if you're in the right frame of mind. I think I wasn't in quite the right frame of mind while reading this, so it wasn't all that amusing, just mildly entertaining. Plot #23 of the Wodehouse stable of formulaic plots: Set--a crumbling country house set; enter young lovers who can't marry because (parents don't approve/don't have enough money/one has noble but fat-headed scruple to overcome/insert other response), add other couples as needed; split up couples and rejoin as needed; insert financial/social macguffin; spice with mistaken or disguised identity and trivial criminal activity; bring to boil and then cool gently. This is enlivened by a little of what passes for social commentary in Wodehouse--set in the early 1950s, the plot is influenced by Britain's postwar fling with socialism, so all the central characters are as titled and ennobled as ever, but they mooch about complaining that they haven't a bean because they've lost it all to death duties. All except for the amiable but buffoonish Sir Roderick, who is inordinately boastful about his position as a floor-walker for Harrod's. Maybe it's just me, but this slim volume was more than usually the "bag of crisps" that Woodehouse novels usually are.
And, because
watervole asked for it last time, a few comments on #21, Dolly and the Nanny Bird by Dorothy Dunnett. I'm terrifically fond of Dorothy Dunnett's historical novels, as many of you know. Her detective novels are set in the modern era (which is to say, for the most part, the 1970s :-) and take place in many of the same locales as her historical novels, or ones related to them. They each feature as central characters a "bird"--a capable, intelligent, independent-minded young woman (a different one in each novel) and the yacht Dolly, "a gaff-rigged ketch", along with her owner, the bifocal-ed portrait-painter Johnson Johnson (thus drawing on one of Dame Dorothy's other talents--portraiture--and the love of sailing she shared with her husband.) Each of the "birds" is distinguished by her occupation, which is worked into the title and features prominently in the plot; in this book, the protagonist is a Margaret Beaton Nanny, the graduate of a fictional nanny-training college modeled on the gold-standard Norland College. She's recruited to work for a difficult family in New York City, and the adventures she endures take her from the wintry wastes of central Canada to the storm-tossed Adriatic. The plots of these novels are generally a tad complex for my taste and end up with an expositional explanation by Johnson toward the end, explaining the convoluted intricacies that you will follow in detail if you remember who was the *only* person who could have left the shattered remains of the fake icon in the soiled nappy in the toilet next door back in Chapter 3. But the characters (it's always about the characters for me), especially the smart, intrepid female leads and their foil, the ever-present Johnson, always do it for me, as does the often climactic sailing crisis and all the little bits of daily life on a sailboat. I love these books, despite their sometimes dated settings (Dunnett makes heavy use of fashion and trendy designer/trade names to make them sound as up-to-date and posh as possible--40 years later, it's kind of funny), and I can reread them regularly for the settings, the nautical elements, and the strong female leads.