Books I've Read So Far 2014: A Recap

Hello fellow readers! Here I'm going to give you a run down of some of the books I've read this year so far. These are the ones I didn't feel needed a whole post of their own. Give some of them a try, or tell me what you think if you've read some of them already!

Source

 
How Soccer Explains the World, Franklin Foer

Okay this is a weird one. It's a bit niche, I'll admit it. Full title is How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization. It's written by an American soccer fanatic who traveled the globe in search of the deeper meaning of-you guessed it-soccer. So perhaps you might not be so interested if you're not into soccer, or economic theories. I'm not what you'd call a "soccer fan." But I do love a good economic tale. Foer writes detailed analyses of soccer's effect on its people, its adversaries, and even its country, revealing the deep seated sociology of the sport. In his book, he includes essays on more teams than I could name here, which to me, could be an advantage or a detriment to the book. It's good that he was so thorough, and I'm sure there are plenty of people who love to read about that kind of thing, but I found it boring to read about teams that I don't care about, like Red Star Belgrade or Hakoah Vienna (not even a team since it was dissolved in 1938). I did, however, really enjoy the chapters on teams that I'm familiar with and care about, like Glasgow Rangers (though the author is an outspoken Celtic fan), the classic Madrid-Barcelona rivalry, and of course the middle class phenomena that is soccer in the United States. I don't know, if you dig soccer and sociology, or are just curious as to how the hell the two are connected, give Foer's book a go.


The Time Machine, HG Wells

The Time Machine is a classic, one which many of you probably have read before, so I'll keep this short. It's an interesting futuristic dystopia-type novel with a strong commentary on current (still relatively current) society. What made me want to read it was an article in AdBusters magazine (yes I read AdBusters magazine please don't judge me) that spoke about the real-world evidence of the kind of divide in Wells' book. In futuristic Earth, there are beautiful land-dwelling creatures, the Eloi. They're lovely and kind, but also display a distinctly childlike fear of the unknown, and of darkness. They're not very smart, and their language is simplistic (the time traveller is able to learn it a few days). They keep a very intentional distance from the Morlocks, a race of ugly, ape-like creatures who live underground and only come up at night. The time traveller's conclusion is that the human race has evolved into two subspecies: the middle/upper class has become the passive, unaware Eloi, and the Morlocks were evolved from the working class. The Eloi have become ineffectual and unintelligent, almost lazy, in the lack of hard work they have to do to survive. The Morlocks live underground and, as the time traveller discovers, provide all the food for the Eloi. How representative of the current growing wage gap. The poor will become poorer, the rich will become richer and drive them underground. What commentary! #wagegap #raisetheminimumwage  

The Body, Stephen King

I fully credit my love of reading with JK Rowling and her beyond-famous Harry Potter series. Before it, I never really read apart from what was required in elementary school. But the boy wizard was everywhere and by the time Prisoner of Azkaban came out (the third in the series, for those of you who live under a rock), I decided it was time. I read Harry Potter, and like many others before and after me, I fell in love with the story. I read the entire series before the release of every new book and every new movie. When the whole thing ended, I reread the entire series  more than 15 times. This is what The Body is for me now. My best friends and I in sixth grade watched the movie version, renamed Stand By Me, over and over and over again. We would quote it and talk about our favorite characters and moments. It was only a few years later that I realized it actually came from a book, and made a mental note to read it. Very recently, I learned that you can download books like you can download movies (I know, I'm a caveman). I downloaded The Body and read it in two sittings (you could probably do it in one sitting; I'm a slow reader). The Body has a particularly nostalgic quality for me, as it's a special memory of my best friends from sixth grade. But it's also just an inherently nostalgic book; it's the coming of age story of a group of best friends, aged 12, as they embark on an adventure only a 12 year old could call "life changing." It's endearing to read about mundane events (like camping in your friend's backyard) and see it as such a big deal, as only a 12 year old could. Nostalgic and precious and recommended.

Benjamin Button, F. Scott Fitzgerald

This is another book-turned-movie that I watched without even knowing there was the option to read. I don't remember much about the movie apart from it was really long and that I was really impressed with how young they were able to make Old Benjamin Button Brad Pitt look. Honestly, it was a bit nothing. It read like the quick note of a thought you want to remember scribbled in the margins of your notebook. It is a classic story, however, and it's worth noting that it's not even a book. It's a short story that you'll finish in much, much less time than it takes to actually watch the movie. So give it a go.

The Fault in Our Stars, John Green

You can't tell from where you are, but I'm hiding under my desk as I write this so you people don't hurt me. I didn't love The Fault in our Stars. Okay, wait, before you go and vow to boycott my blog for years to come, listen: I love John Green. I began watching YouTube about three years ago, and I discovered the vlogbrothers, run by both John and his brother Hank. I loved their content so much, and I was excited to learn that their viewer numbers were growing, as was their output of work. They were putting out more vlogbrothers videos, starting up more YouTube channels, launched or promoted several other businesses, and (I know I was the last person in the world to realize this) John Green writes books.

I don't know if you readers know my taste well enough at this point, but I'm not big into love stories. I find them tiresome. They have to be really cool and really different in order for me to appreciate them, because I just don't feel like there are a whole lot of love stories that haven't been told already. And to my slight disappointment, John Green's novels are pretty much all love stories. Don't get me wrong: they're charming and endearing, always with engaging characters, it's just that the plots follow the same boy meets girl/boy chases girl/boy and girl are in love formula. I haven't come across one (still haven't read Will Grayson Will Grayson, to be fair) that hasn't at least entertained me, that hasn't made me laugh. You'll find yourself connecting with the characters and really caring about them and what happens to them. But I just wish John Green would put his tremendous talent for writing great, dynamic, funny characters toward something other than your regular YA love story. Perhaps the broader analysis here is that I just don't really like young adult fiction anymore (oh please don't think I'm being pretentious).

I will say (again, still haven't read Will Grayson Will Grayson) that I think The Fault in Our Stars is John Green's best so far. That is because it's not a simple girl meets boy and they fall in love story. It has another theme to it, namely cancer and cancer survivors. I think that's what makes the story so strong with its fans. It makes TFIOS that much more dynamic and relatable. The story may have survived without the cancer theme (if you're saying no, just give it some thought and be creative*), but it's this that distinguishes it from the rest of the many YA love stories out there. Yes, TFIOS is funny and charming and it might make you laugh and cry and all that. Objectively, it's a well crafted love story, and not without its sappiness. I guess I'm just saying that I'm not one for love stories.

Paper Towns, John Green

I know I said I don't like love stories. And I know I've pointed out that John Green writes love stories. But there is a charm and readability to them, and I'm a big fangirl of John Green as, like, a person (while reading Paper Towns by John Green, I was also reading Regarding the Pain of Others, a book recommended by John Green). Also I've mentioned I'm a big book antihipster, so after the success of Paper Towns, I had to read it. Paper Towns was yet another love story, but before I had the chance to roll my eyes, I actually really enjoyed the book (not that I was expecting to hate it). It was a love story that focused heavily on the main character, Quentin, and the object of his affection, Margo Roth Spiegelman, as two separate people, and not as much on their relationship. Most of the novel follows Quentin on his massive goose chase to find Margo, and I like that it's not your average guy-trying-to-win-girl story. Quentin is on a literal hunt to find Margo, and the result is a unique character study that emphasizes this lovely little point that many struggle to articulate: Women are people. In point of a broader fact, people are people, as Quentin's mother says, "we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way we are. We idolize them as gods or dismiss them as animals." The ones we place on a pedestal and the ones we label as assholes are all just that, when all is said and done: people. Anyway, that's what I got from the book. As much as I find love stories to be passé, John Green has an incredible talent for making his readers really care about his characters.

The Expats, Chris Pavone

Okay, I suppose this was going to happen at some point, but here it is: My first all-out negative review. This book is fantastically crap. What happens when an ex CIA agent gives up her exciting, crime-fighting life to be a stay-at-home mom because her computer-geek husband accepts a banking security job in Luxembourg? A whole lotta shit. Like, actual poo. This is a perfect example of how poor pacing can be annoying as hell. The chapters are punctuated by page breaks, which was clearly meant to build suspense, but it's really just bothersome, especially when a page break can (and often does, in this case) represent the passage of just a few minutes' time. It's meant to cause tension, for you to sit on the edge of your seat and say "ooh, I really want to know what happens next," but in reality I just found myself groaning, rolling my eyes, and saying "Why is this taking so long?!" In the end, it just felt pointless. People are calling it "expertly crafted" and "intricately plotted" but I just think it was stupidly complicated with too many layers and it ended up being cheesy. In the big reveal at the end, it was all "if that didn't happen," *dramatic pointing* "and that didn't happen, then what did happen?" It was secret upon secret upon secret, and it turned out that *gasp* he knew the whole time! But she knew that he knew, and this other guy knew that she knew that he knew but everyone knew that this guy knew and holy god just shut the book and put it down. I won't give too much away, in case you want to read it. But listen, I'm trying to be objective here. It's a mindless mystery novel with no substance. It's a quick read. If you're looking for entertainment for entertainment's sake, just to keep yourself busy, give it a go. If you want something that will actually entertain or inform or inspire you, pick something else. Anything else.

I bought this book while I was at the airport after I'd noticed I'd forgotten to charge my kindle. I thought I'd buy a book for my travels, and it was a sorry waste of 10€.The title is what drew me in, as I thought, "Hey! I'm an expat!" Next time I'll be more choosy. The Expats is Chris Pavone's first novel, and I really hope it's his last.



*Hazel could have gone to any kind of support group, really. The trip to Amsterdam, though as a gift really demonstrated Gus's love for Hazel, could have been organized any number of ways. To be clear, I'm saying the cancer theme didn't have to be there, but I'm glad it was, because it added a lot to the story.

The Two Sides to the "He's Just Not That Into You" Coin

"Maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future."

 
I remember this book being hugely popular back when I was in high school. My high school boyfriend's mom and his older brother's girlfriend were talking about it, and they told me it was "required reading" for any girl or young woman. I'm hesitant to call it "required reading," but I do recommend it. There are two strong themes in the book: If he's not making the effort, he's just not that into you and you  need to cut your losses and move on already. And, if you're unhappy or making excuses for someone else ("He's really busy!" or "He just got out of a long relationship!"), you deserve better and it's better to be alone holding out for a person who treats you well than to be with someone who makes you feel like less of a person. I fully, whole-heartedly agree with the second sentiment. I've seen so many people wait around for someone to be "ready to be in a relationship" or make excuses for why someone doesn't have time for them. I will admit to doing a lot of the "don'ts" mentioned in the book. It's easy to look at someone else's relationship and point out what's wrong, but it's difficult to look at yours objectively because you're different, he/she's different, your relationship is totally special and not like everyone else's. The best, most encompassing advice in the book is to tell your own story to yourself, and hear it as though hearing it from a friend. What advice would you tell your friend?

The feminist in me,  however, has a few problems with the book. When Greg Behrendt writes about the beginning of a relationship, he really drills the point that if a guy is into you, he'll call. Women are not supposed to call and we're supposed to wait for the guy we're into to make a move. Now, as someone who has made the first move (and it worked out very well for me in this particular instance), I completely disagree. I think the point he was trying to make is that women shouldn't chase after anyone. It's perfectly acceptable for a woman to make the first move. If he doesn't call or text you back, let it go. It's not a big deal. But, can't we say that for everyone? How about no one-man or woman-chase after someone who has expressed (implicitly or explicitly) disinterest? It's a sad waste of time and everyone-men and women-needs to stop. 

Take for instance, the quote: “A man who wants to make a relationship work will move mountains to keep the woman he loves." Yes, that's lovely, but shouldn't we say the same about women? Can't we just replace "man" with "person" and "woman" with "person"? The book is contradictory in a big, but not very overt way. Behrendt begs women to be passive and wait patiently for the man to call in the beginning of the relationship, because if he's into you, he will. It's totally impossible that he might be waiting to hear from you. But then he begs us to take an active role in our happiness instead of just taking the safe route and staying in a bad relationship. I just wish women were urged to be more active in relationships instead of being in this subordinate position. Don't get me wrong, I like Behrendt's idea that we should recognize our unhappiness and take control of the faulty relationships in our lives, but I think it's a silly idea that women must be won over or wooed. Relationships should be fully and equally reciprocal. If you love someone, regardless of gender, you'll move mountains.

This brings me to my next problem with the book. Everything has a pretty clear man/woman divide, but every problem a woman has could definitely be a man's problem. Similarly, every excuse or fault given by a man in the book could easily be the excuse or fault of a woman. For instance, there are several men mentioned who, for whatever reason, are "not ready" or "unable" to get into a committed relationship right now. These excuses range from coming out of a long term relationship, to starting a new job, to going through a divorce, to a death in the family. But, come on, let's not act like women haven't used these excuses before. Behrendt offers great advice (short version: you deserve better; walk away). But we can't talk like the world's problems are in black and white. Nothing is a woman-problem or a man-problem. By describing them as such, we're perpetuating stupid and potentially dangerous roles, like men "always want and will never reject sex". In the book, Behrendt indignantly asserts that "if he's into you, he won't be able to keep his hands off you." I think he means well, but what he should have said is something like, if he's into you, he'll desire a heathly sexual relationship with you (As defined by the couple. No sex till marriage? Two times a week? A month?). It's about finding someone who's a good match. But it's perfectly normal for either member of a couple to not be in the mood, gender notwithstanding. By perpetuating this idea that men will always be up for sex and never ever reject it, we make men feel like less of men and women feel less desirable when it happens (and it will). It also sets up a dangerous assumption that men cannot be raped, which they most certainly can be, but that is a post for a different day.

Anyway, am I reading too much into this? Maybe I'm reading too much into this. There are lots of great points in He's Just Not That Into You, and I want to spread this message of self-love and you-deserve-more. “Don’t spend your time on and give your heart to any person* who makes you wonder about anything related to his/her** feelings for you,” he rightfully says. 

Just take it with a grain of salt.


 Go anywhere; Be anything.




*Original quote says "guy"
**Original quote just says "his". I like mine better.

The Stranger by Albert Camus, Mocking Jay by Suzanne Collins, and Why Pacing is so Important

"At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face." Image source*

So here's something that I never really hear about: Pacing. When you learn how to write in school, when you listen to lectures in your university English class, when you read a blog with "top ten tips on how to write fiction," it never seems to come up, and I don't really know why. It can make or break a story. It's what moves it along or halts it in its tracks. It's what tells us, as the reader, what matters, because it makes us pay attention to what the author wants us to pay attention to. It's just as important as character development or story composition. And yet pacing just gets lost in the ether of the elements of fiction writing, and I feel like the only one who cares about it (did that sound pretentious..? Oh well).

The author controls the story and at what pace it moves forward. If they want a certain scene to hold more importance than another, they will write multiple pages about it while other scenes get only a paragraph. First a writer must ask him/herself why one scene is more important than others. For example, every year that Harry Potter and the gang went to Hogwarts, the journey on the Hogwarts Express got its own chapter. That's because something vital to the story happened during the train ride. In contrast, only a couple times did the journey from the platform up to the school get any real attention-in The Sorcerer's Stone because it was all shiny and new to the students (character and setting development), and in The Order of the Phoenix because Harry needed to realize that he could suddenly see thestrals after witnessing the death of Cedric Diggery (sorry, spoilers, but hey, you should have read it by now). The books are really long, but it works because JK Rowling paced her novels, giving adequate time to certain parts of the story, and speeding through other parts by using transitions like, "before they knew it, Christmas was upon them," or the like. Mind, that's not a direct quote, just an example of what one might say.

Throughout the whole of the HP series, there were countless scenes where nothing really happened, but rather there was some essential character or setting development. During their first journey from the platform up to the castle, the first year students meet Hagrid, the Hogwarts scene is set as the enormous and mysterious and unfathomable castle that it is, and Draco Malfoy establishes himself as a jerkface. None of these things are vital for the plot to make sense, but they certainly add a lot to the story. If the events are not necessary to move the story along, and there is no character or inter-character relationship development happening, whatever it is needs to be cut.

Pacing is one of those things that, if done well, you probably won't notice it. As I said before, it can make or break a novel. If a book is too short, it'll leave readers wanting or disappointed. If it's too long, it's excessive and readers will be annoyed and wonder why they have to wade through chapters of text in order to find the meaning. For me, it's why the third Hunger Games book (Mocking Jay) was so terrible. (Warning: Spoilers through the rest of this paragraph) Catching Fire was so great; it was tense and suspenseful, and I couldn't put it down. Then I read Mocking Jay and it felt really rushed. It read as though Suzanne Collins' publisher had caught on to the success of the series, and wanted to get the third installment out on the shelves as quickly as possible, and they accepted her first draft as a result. The story dragged on, emphasizing Katniss' mood swings and rushing through seemingly important events. I hated the emphasis on her finally kissing Gale, and her ensuing fight with Peeta. But then after all the love triangle stuff (that got a lot more focus in the third book than the other two books combined), the epilogue felt like an "Oh, by the way, I'm with Peeta now. We have kids together." Oh...Okay. It was just an afterthought, after being built up so much, and I know epilogues are meant to be afterthoughts, but it deserved more detail, even-dare I say-a whole chapter. And the death of her sister Prim received less than a page's worth of attention, which was just dreadful. Don't even get me started.


  OKAY YOU CAN COME BACK NOW SPOILERS ARE OVER

Alright, my disappointment in the ending of The Hunger Games aside, let's get to the topic at hand: The Stranger, and how Camus paces his story. It opens with the main character, Meursault, learning of his mother's death (stick with me, no spoilers, I promise). The actual reception of the knowledge is curt: "Mother died today," he says. And not much else. In the first chapter, Meursault goes to the old folks' home where his mother spent her last years. He spends the night with her body, alongside many of her friends with whom he is not familiar. The next morning, they head to the burial in a long and arduous procession in the hot sun. Meursault complains about the heat and the length of the walk, and keeps noticing his mother's "special friend" (Pérez, her boyfriend, probably) falling out of step with the rest of the group and having to catch up. You reach chapter two before ever realizing that, despite the mentions of "the look of the church, the villagers in the street, the red geraniums on the grave, and more people...waiting outside a café for the bus," you didn't really hear about the burial itself.

Meursault returns home and the second chapter begins instantly with a swim in the harbor, where he runs into an old friend, Marie. He spends a few paragraphs courting her. They swim together. He helps her on her raft. He puts his arm around her. After a solid page of flirting, he asks her to the movies. She agrees, though the dialogue is notably choppy and incongruous. After the movie, Marie accompanies him to his apartment and they sleep together. We are given no more detail other than that by the time Meursault woke up, "Marie had gone."

Throughout this chapter (after Marie leaves, never to be mentioned again), we follow Meursault through his entire Sunday in what seems like unprecedented detail. He wakes up and decides to go back to sleep. He does not get up once he wakes again, and instead smokes a cigarette right there in bed. He wonders what to do for food, as he doesn't want to do lunch at his usual Sunday restaurant. He eats, and wanders around his apartment. He finds an old newspaper and rereads it "for want of anything better to do." His day drags on as he tries to busy himself. He goes out to his balcony, which overlooks the main street. He watches the many people who pass by: families on their afternoon walk and a group of young friends, among others. The street eventually empties and he wonders if the matinées haven't just begun and that's why there are no longer people about. He smokes cigarettes; eats some chocolate. A loud group of sports fanatics return from a football match, celebrating. He notices the sky is growing darker and the street lamps are coming on and decides he should sort out some dinner. He goes to the store to buy food, makes and eats his spaghetti dinner, mulls over the decision of whether to smoke a cigarette or whether the night has grown too cold, and just when you're beginning to wonder where all of this is going, and why the hell you're reading about all this banality, you realize, just as Meursault himself does, that somehow he'd "gotten through another Sunday, that mother now was buried and...Really, nothing in [his] life had changed."

Through all the mundane tasks and pointless musings, Camus paints an astonishingly accurate portrait of emotional trauma and the passage of time, and he does it by pacing his story. See, even though it seems strange that Meursault's day drags on by detailing every minute detail while his mother's burial gets hardly a sentence, it's all very intentional, and it's all brilliant.

In chapter one, we read much more about Meursault's physical discomfort in the heat, and his discomfort at Pérez's inability to keep pace with the group and not knowing the exact nature of Pérez's relationship with his mother. This effectively portrays him as self absorbed, though he does show some remorse for not having seen his mother for a long time, and moreover, he does show some emotion for her death in the beginning. However, by the time they reach the burial, his focus on just about everything other than his mother's death demonstrates the distance between them that grew steadily over the years.

With Marie he shows a similar self absorption paired with a more apparent lack of feeling. He wraps up the affair in no more than two sentences. (Only one more than his summary of the movie they saw, which, Meursault admits, "was downright stupid.") Now perhaps Camus is discreet on this for the sake of propriety, but I'd wager his inattention to what his audience would expect to be an important detail tells us a lot about Meursault's feelings toward Marie. She's forgettable. Dispensable. Not worth a second thought.

On paper, he doesn't sound like a great person that you have much in common with. He's not close with his mother, he sins, he has no interest in God, he's even a criminal. People are all very different, but Camus has a way of making you relate to Meursault the more you read about him. He is utterly, terrifyingly relatable. Camus puts his main character in situations that you yourself could find yourself in. He makes you question what you might be capable of by writing a character piece that reminds you that you can surprise even yourself. There is much more to learn about Meursault as he learns about himself. He's a wonderfully crafted, dynamic character. The Stranger is all perfectly paced and I promise you won't be able to put the book down.


Go anywhere; Be anything.



*This is not the original cover. In fact, I'm not even sure it was ever an actual cover for the book. I found it in a Google search and I just like it a lot more than the original. It's much more representative of the book.