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Rifflection on the Climax of “The Monkey’s Paw”
In Memoriam: B
The Young Amateur Imagines the Editor’s Pen, ca 1997
"Then, at 2:30. . . ." at 365 TomorrowsThe talk-show of the future will cover celebrity problems of the future.
"Yes, Snow White Ate the Apple. It Was a Suicide." at MicroHorrorHardly an original idea to rework Snow White as a horror story, but I hope where I'm standing results in a different view.
"Overall free" at 無μ MagazineThis poem is . . . probably about . . . something . . . or other.
"Accidentally Deleted" at Quantum Fairy TalesConsidering all the science-fiction poetry I was writing back when I was an Asimov's subscriber, it's nice to see some end up in print.
"Inappropriate Book Illustrations Redeemed Through the Glory of Dance" at Red Fez
(self explanatory)
What CREATING teaches me about the CREATOR
God left the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth. He left the rivers unbridged and the forests unfelled and the cities unbuilt. God gives to man the challenge of raw materials, not the ease of finished things. He leaves the pictures unpainted and the music unsung and the problems unsolved, that man might know the joys and glories of creation.
Big O expressed interest in this book years before he was capable of reading it, but I bought it and stashes it in the closet and we finally got around to giving it to him this Christmas. He read it, thought it was terrific, handed it off to me.six days
Though I can make complaints about the couple times it pointlessly broke pov etc, I agree: this was a pretty terrific book. The lead character is super likable even though he runs a constant risk of turning Mary Sue (I mean: greatest pitcher, greatest center fielder, greatest catcher, greatest batter). The crisis he and his brother are thrown into it instantly gripping, and that's channeled into the baseball story and baby we're off.
I also liked it's metareferences to film and happy endings in the closing chapters because the story definitely heads that direction---though props to Lupica for finding a better ending spot than the Little League World Series. Heroes win, villains lose, friends remain true, beautiful girls share sexless 12-year-old crushes, miracles happen. Baseball, fathers and sons, hope, forgiveness. It's an epic at 240 largeprint pages.
Best use of second person ever! Combining heavy illustrations (parts of the book certainly count as comics) with a friendly forbearance of voice combine to an approachable narrator and a close identification with the surly (but recognizable) protagonist. Fun book to read to small kids (but not so small that they can't stick with you for over a hundred [very speedy] pages).evening
Shot right, this has potential to be a killer (and supercheap) little indie film. Think Lifeboat. Underground.evening
At this near remove, I'm not sure if I like this book more than I am annoyed by it, or vice versa. Let's start with the annoyances, shall we?three or four or more weeks
Page 82: "In a sense, this was when the story began. . . ."
This is so so true. I almost I almost put this book down and wrote it up as unfinished many times. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOOOOOORING. Nothing nothing nothing then more nothing. And this a spy novel!
Anyway, I stuck with it and the story began. McEwan is as good with sex and relationships as ever but we'll get to that later.
Next annoying thing: the final 28 pages. In which the curtain is pulled back and we see the entire thing's just been an elaborate metafictional setup (#spoileralert). What? Are you playing games with me, McEwan?
But here's where we'll start seguing to what I like, because I pass through anger to grudging acceptance to pleasure over the course of those 28 pages. I'm still pissed off to have been played, but it was all to such nice ends! 'Tis no mistake the word "sweet" is in the title.
I also love how this spy novel is actually about literature and, specifically, a moment in literature---one I don't know well---1970s England. And it's drawn so lovingly and perfectly. It's an attractive time to show up.
So cut the beginning. Seriously reconsider the ending. I don't know what I think about it. Not as good as my favorite McEwan novels, but no slouch of a novel either.
In the end? I dunno.
Other McEwan novels:
On Chesil Beach
The Black Dogs
Atonement
At first, I didn't know how to take this book. How deliberate were the variations in character appearance? Is this intentional or just bad drawing? In other words, is he doing something really strange but worthy like David Mazzucchelli, or is he doing something crap like (in my unpopular opinion) Gary Panter? It wasn't easy to tell. But by the end of this collection, I'm leaning to the former.three or four days
These surrealist tales are connected by characters or visual motifs or other little doodads, but they don't make sense together until the end. The final three stories each offer an explanation for the weirdness of the preceding tales and provide a viewpoint from which to understand the collection as a whole. I didn't realize this was happening as I read the first of the three until I finished the book, but the mythic recreation of an artist who invents the world provides one framework to consider these tales.
The next story is about the interior fantasy of a paralyzed man unable to communicate with the world around him. At first, as he rewrites his fantasies on the go, I was about to declare the whole collection sloppiness disguised as art, but as I came to understand the conceit, I finally came around and began to consider the possibility that Schrauwen really was up to something impressive.
The final story is a science-fictive explanation, in ways both the most confused and more clear of all the stories. Looking back, other stories (the comics business, for instance) also are explanations for how a world and its art can become the same.
Anyway. Not bad. I'm not totally converted, but certainly worth a looksee.
How I came to read this book is a boring and abysmal story, but suffice it to say that this book is a mess. Like, say, a Scooby-Doo book I recently read, it doesn't seem to have anything going for it beyond its audience's enthusiasm. Which is apparently enough. Because everything else about this book is stupid. Add to that the lame (and faulty) shortcuts it takes which work even less with those unimmersed in manga. Let's just hope I never have to read another one.five or six days
We are truly in a golden age of comics. This is a beautiful piece of work, and my patience for high-school stories is generally pretty thin.less than two weeks, probably less than one
Kudos:
The drawing is terrific. The way the characters hold themselves---I know these people. And family members look alike without looking the same.
And the telling is literary. For instance, the ghost and the mom are obviously parallel, but the meaning of that pareallelism is far from obvious. And the same could be said of the haircuts. So many examples.
Hicks also balances humor and pathos like a champ. In all, one of the easiest to recommend comics I've read. Who wouldn't be able to enjoy this?
Incidentally, long ago I started reading this online, but like many great reads, the upload pace was slow and I forgot about it. So thanks to Jeff Smith for returning me to it.
Also, Hicks is the author of Superhero Girl, another online I loved then lost.
You should really check her out.
I got both Connelly books at the same time, and until the last one got more fun at the end, I thought I wouldn't read this one. But it did and I did and I'm glad because this book was much, much better. Largely, I think, because he stuck with one pov. Still not Great Literature, by any means, but both of the protagonist's victories are tainted and in quite different ways. This is, in other words, a very high-quality potato chip indeed.over a month
Such a lost opportunity. And don't get me wrong. It's not that what's here is inherently dissatisfying---it's just so paltry. Thirty-eight New Yorker cartoonists who, according to the math suggested by the introduction, get rejected about 450 times a year. Some of them have been submitting for decades. Which suggests mountains of old panels lying around unused. Yet on average, each toonist has about five. Plus a page of photographs and two pages of a fun little fill-in-the-blank form (that gets endlessly repetitive as many low-hanging jokes get picked over and over). Only after which we get to three to maybe seven pages of cartoons, one per page.a week or so
Compare this to the 1950s-era NY collection I read last month which varied cartoon sizes, often fitting several to a page. Frankly, this wasted space is absurd and would make me feel pretty ripped off.
The other issue (of sorts) is that Diffee's editing seems to suggest a desire to prove that the best gags left out of The New Yorker's pages are generally a bit gross in some way. Probably this reflects his own tastes, but when you consider how many cartoons they reject each year, it wouldn't be hard to currate a rejection collection that suggests any other theory as well.
So overall, a cool idea for fans of the cartoonists, but undernourished in many ways.
To . . . worship [God], we must have an understanding of His characteristics.We crazy old high priests debated just how true this was (or, if you prefer, just how we should understand this) and many useful insights were shared. I liked my metaphor, so I'm recording it.
Gravity (2013): Tell you what: space has just lost a lot of its attraction. But my opinion? It's as good as everyone's said. Sandra Bullock will be getting an Oscar nomination. And sitting close to the screen with 3D glasses? Awesome. I jumped and gasped when pieces of the ISS flew past me. And it was not a cheap thrill. It was part of a real and dangerous world. But seriously: I don't really need to go into space anytime soon.
Ender's Game (2013): If you haven't read the book, I say watch the movie first. The novel is so rich and deep. The movie necessarily simplifies, but I think it does a good job. Hard to say though as I know the novel fairly well (not great---I'm not ready for a tv-based Ender's Game Trivia shootout---just fairly well). But I did enjoy the movie and was even moved a couple times and now I really really want someone to attempt to bring Shadow of the Hegemon to the screen (big or---maybe better---small). It'll never happen of course (Peter and Valentine, necessarily, were underdeveloped; no Achilles; your first-movie lead has no role), but it would be cool. The other effect the movie had on me was a deep desire to reread Speaker for the Dead. Of course, you can read any of these books yourself.
The Muppet Movie (1979): I'm not employing hyperbole when I say that this was one of the greatest movie-theater experiences of my life. I've watched this movie a handful of times in my life---most of them in adulthood, most like---but I've listened to the soundtrack HUNDREDS of times. After graduating from high school, for some reason I bought the tape and it was on regular rotation the year before and the year after my mission when I logged endless commute hours driving from Tehachapi to Bakersfield and back. I know these songs as well or better than all other songs in the world. I don't know if I go through a week without singing lines from "Rainbow Connection" or "Movin' Right Along" or "Can You Picture That?" or "I Hope That Somethin' Better Comes Along or "I'm Going To Go Back There Someday" or "The Magic Store." The DNA of this movie has merged with my own DNA and I'm some sort of Muppet hybrid. Anyway, seeing it with an audience of adults who laughed at the Hari Krishna jokes and kids who laughed at Miss Piggy beating up badguys was a joy. I nearly wept for some reason when Big Bird said he was heading to New York City to try to break into public television. Holy smokes, this was great. I need a theater to do a singalong next. I mostly kept myself from singing along today, but not entirely.
Frozen (2013): Given the hype around this movie, I expected more. My bad. Still. Pretty good. Both Lady Steed and I agreed that sometimes the voices didn't seem to be coming out of the mouths on the screen. The songs were more Broadway than Disney and I don't think they'll age well. The character design was off at times. And while I'll give props for playing against some Disney-fairy-tale tropes, they played into others twice as big. So overall a win, but nothing to start an Oscar campaign over.
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013): We went 3D on this one in order to get the higher frame-rate projection. The first movie was a headache to watch---the camera moved to quickly to make out anything. Everything was blurred. The higher frame rate solved this problem, though it did introduce the too-real problem. I don't really care how closely the movie followed the book; I liked the movie. Not a great movie like the LotRs tended to be, but perfectly enjoyable. It is getting a bit ridiculous how no dwarf can die though. Just saying.
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013): First, it must be said again and again, Jennifer Lawrence is the real thing. A star. And not for today, but I suspect she would prove to be one of the all-time greats. That final look at her face is what Hitchcock said[citation needed] is the greatest special effect: the human face undergoing emotional change. I liked this movie better than the first, which is remarkable when you consider the books started (in my minority opinion) merely okay and got worse. Good writing, pacing, casting. And Jennifer Lawrence.
His Girl Friday (1940): Although as rapid-fire and funny as I expected, I did not expect how dark it was. With constant undercurrents of crime and war and corruption, it's not a film that can be dismissed as pure fun. (Not that there's anything wrong with pure fun.) I have to admit I wasn't able to fully enjoy it as a movie because I was too busy studying how it---especially its dialogue---was crafted. It's not just speedily delivered---it's complicated and tightly rigged, that dialogue.
Waitress (2007): I didn't like what was done with music and I thought the medical details were a bit sketchy and that old Joe wasn't consistently imagined. Which might sound like a lot, but the film is pretty astonishing all the same. Keri Russell has true star charisma dialed into a small, small space now I really need to see Austenland). The writing was sharp in the way we associate with Diablo Cody or Quentin Tarantino, but it's a bit more honest and believable. I particularly was intrigued by the protagonist's imagining of pies. That's something I can learn from.
Swiss Family Robinson (1960): Sure it has some "flaws," but seriously: is there a more fun movie to watch with your family? I mean really? And frankly, some of those flaws could just as easily be taken as lessons in innovative storytelling. No need to connect the obvious dots, friend.
The Cheat (1915): After recognizing the pirate captain in Swiss Family Robinson, I went to IMBd to look him up. Of course: Bridge over the River Kwai (which I've never seen but have seen enough famous scenes from). But it ends up that Sessue Hayakawa was a major Hollywood star of the silent era. And this is the film that made him famous. Made him a major romantic lead. Before America got all racist against Asians and stuff. But if this is a preracist film, holy moly, I would hate to watch a racist one. (Note: I actually saw the 1918 rerelease version of the film.)
The Amazing Adventure (1936): Apparently the version I watched was the American cut, trimmed twenty minutes from the British original. Which is a shame, because I kept thinking that editing was absolutely amateurish and that a bit more room to develop would have served the characters well. Not that more minutes could fix the generally bad writing or flaky directing, but it wouldn't have hurt either. Anyway, that said, this movie is proof that Cary Grant can carry a film. Even with all its flaws, I rather enjoyed this mess. I would have loved to've seen him in vaudeville.
A Night at the Opera (1935): No chaos like Marx Bros. chaos. By the way, have you ever noticed that Chico in a gypsy costume looks a lot like Fred Armison? Fred Armison needs to do a Chico. Anyway, the crammed-cabin routine gets funnier every time I see it.
The Iron Giant (1999): Little Lord Steed's been bugging to watch this movie for a week. Large S started by saying it would be too scary and wanting none of it to wanting to watch it. Big O recalls liking it. All three spent much of the movie covering their faces or hiding under tables or leaving the room. Clearly, we're not ready for Jurassic Park yet. As for me? Well. No movie makes me sob like The Iron Giant makes me sob.
Elf (2003): A true holiday classic notwithstanding its third-act collapse (and absurd view of picture-book publishing), Elf may be the most important movie I've seen in the last ten years by virtue of introducing me to Zooey Deschanel's voice.
When Harry Met Sally... (1989): I see why everyone loves this movie so much. And like Casablanca that it references, it's so loaded with lines I just know, even though I've never seen this movie before. The interstitial interviews were more daring than they seem and worked quite well. Overall, so nice to see a good romcom. It's been a while.
The Indian in the Cupboard (1995): Wow. Intrusive score, poor acting, weak script. Not sad I missed this last time around. The kids really wanted to watch it though (don't ask me how they found out about it) so I complied. Alas, alas. Not Frank Oz's finest work. Some classid 90s hair on display though. So that's fun.
Sleepwalk with Me (2012): I've been wanting to see this movie since I heard some thing with Mike Brubiglia and Ira Glass on NPR when it came out. It was in a Berkeley theater at the time, but we weren't able to work it. How does it stand up to his radio work? Pretty well. It's a good movie, to be sure. When it ended, I blurted, "That's the end???" with three question marks and so I guess I'm left a tad unsatisfied, but now I want to see My Girlfriend's Boyfriend. So no too unsatisfied.
Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) 2x: Such a well crafted movie from the words to the blocking. The closest thing I can think of to a complaint is the sometimes flexible sizes of things. A chicken, for instance, shrinks when a fox holds it.
A Bucket of Blood (1959): I'm happy to report if you can get 14yrolds past the opening few minutes, they totally dig this movie.
Monsters, Inc. (2001): Interesting this time to see how the storytellers dealt with Boo's scaring. It's not entirely consistent, but I've seen this movie so many times and never noticed before.
Now You See Me (2013): It's a hyper-hyphy heist! It's a crazy-cool caper! It's a lot of fun to watch! It also strains credulity. It features a cheap twist, logical holes, some really absurdly bad moments of screenwriting (I'm looking at you, romance, but not only you). Ultimately, it just kind of pissed me off. I can see why teenagers like it, but I'll not be watching it again.
Romeo and Juliet (1968) x2: I'm getting a bit tired of this. Haven't seen the new one (haven't heard much good), but I'm hoping for the best.
Corianton (1931): Is this a bad movie? Oh, yes. As bad as everyone says? Certainly. Was it worth watching? Oh, yes. Will I watch is again? Quite possibly. Were the costumes as sexy as Orson Scott Card suggested? Much more so.
Gentlemen Broncos (2009) x2: I love this movie more than I did at first. And it's terrific when discussing metafiction. But man is it weird.
The Princess Bride (1987) x2: I am enjoying teaching this book so much. And the movie never gets old.
Black Orpheus (1959): I can't say I really watched this. So much dancing I can't stay focused. Especially when showing it to a class that can't go five minutes without a shoving match. . . . That said, the last half hour is pretty cool, watched without other people.
A Christmas Story (1983): I never saw this movie through as a child, but it's now a seasonal favorite. I'm glad.
Ah, point-of-view. While the final scene of this novel is satisfying novelistically, it is a bizarre point to believe that it is where Pip himself would choose to end his story. (Though I'm sure there is plenty of fanfic leading on from that moment.)TIME
As a kid, Great Expectations was one of the least frequently read of my Moby Books, but all the same I read it more than once. So I know much of the story, even if in highly abridged form.
But the highly abridged was the most important part as I read the full novel. So many things I never saw coming.
I think, though, I would have enjoyed the book more if I hadn't simultaneously assigned it to my freshmen. The bulk of them were unprepared for a reading like this and I had to keep telling them it would get better (and it did!) with a desperate hope that it would (it did!).
As for me? I liked it much more than Oliver Twist, the only other non-Christmas Dickens novel I've read as an adult.
Lady Steed didn't make it through a page of this book without laughing incontrollably. Me, I didn't literally lol so often, but I was intrigued, professionally, by the way he structures a joke. You can tell he's in standup because plenty of the jokes would work better delivered orally than on paper. But if you can read them in Gaffigan's voice, all the better.over a month
A pretty great book for beleaguered parents who need a laugh though, I dare say.
The quality varied from the surprisingly good to the invoking of Thumper's dad, but I'm still glad the book existed and that I wrote for it.twenty-four days
Hey! Another terrific true-story serial-killer comic book written by an ancillary participant! In this case, the writer is the son of a lead detective. The story skips around from the post-arrest interviews with the killer, the events of the time (both killer and police), contemporaneous events, etc. It's one of the least glamorized looks at police work I've ever read and thus feels particularly honest and true.two days
A fine procedural, and a good read.
One half nostalgic look at teenagedom, one half chilling recounting of the tragic decent of a weird kid into monsterdom.a few days
The book was a good read while being terribly thoughtprovoking. When Dahmer's crimes were discovered I was at the front end of a deep fascination with serial killers, but Dahmer? Never. Perhaps because he was NOW and therefore hard to view dispassionately. Perhaps his particular set of macabre traits were too much even for an Albert Fish fan. Who knows. I don't know.
Anyway, this book got my mind rolling in many directions.
For instance, Backderf places a lot of blame on inattentive adults. For sure, his parents should have seen the drinking problems, etc, and probably school officials should have done more than they did---today they would---but as a high-school teacher I can tell you: being a teacher is not like being a student. Most of what I thought was happening when I was a student is completely outside my sphere of knowledge as an adult on campus. So much I do not know. How can I? I'm locked in a room. And even when I'm outside my room, "what's happening" does not happen as I walk by. I can sometimes see hints of what's happening, but I don't have enough information to build a case or to even know what case there is to be built. When something does boil to the surface, I'm constantly surprised.
I'm also now wondering how certain misfits from my childhood turned out.
Hoo.
It's a dark and crazy world. And for the first time, I see Dahmer as a tragic figure. Backderf quickly and frequently insists that sympathy for Dahmer ends as soon as he kills for the first time, but I'm not sure I can go quite that far. Sure, he became a monster. Yes, it would have been better for him to kill himself than continue down that road. But what an awful deck of cards to be built. I can't image being a teenager whose burgeoning sexuality turns him toward corpses. It's not fair. And leaves no good solution.
Unsettling, thoughtful, honest, true. Read the notes, read the postscript. Good book.
"I guess part of me also wants to throw in the towel, forget all of the analytic crap that goes with being a critic, and write what I want to say: THIS BOOK IS HILARIOUS! READ IT, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" - Scott Hales, Association for Mormon Letters
A lot of people have compared Byuck to Napoleon Dynamite and . . . The Death of a Disco Dancer. . . . I kept thinking of John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces. The plot's not similar but it has some of that creative chaos that makes Confederacy so memorable. --- Doug Gibson, the Standard-Examiner
"If you ever wanted to know what would have happened if Godot had shown up, read Byuck, wherein coffee tables are transgressive and Billy Joel claims to be innocent. I LOL'd. For real. Not like you do online where you just kind of huff with a mouth twitch. No, I totally LOL'd. Woke up the cat." -- Moriah Jovan, author of The Proviso and Magdalene
"With humor and affection, Theric Jepson creates a story that gleans the best from both the romantic comedy tradition and the literary LDS tradition. Snappy dialogue and quirky characters make Byuck an enjoyable read for book clubs and Mormon literature enthusiasts." -- Laura Craner, A Motley Vision
If Dave Eggers had gone to BYU, this is what he would have written. A pitch perfect voice and a lot of very funny lines. -- Daftwooly
You know the first five minutes of Moulin Rouge, where the main character starts singing "The hills are alive....with the sound of music.." And you think "...huh...okay, that's kinda random, but sure..." And then once you've embraced the quirkiness, a sweet, unexpected, delicious love story falls into your hands, all the more tasty because of the what-the-heck, random quirks. You know? Well, that's the first few chapters of Byuck. It's like the first 10 seconds of Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog after he breaks into song in the introductory scene. Or the first fight scene in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Stick with it, because like all those stories I mentioned, this is totally worth it. -- Satsuki
Although I find Helen Keller as remarkable as anyone else, I'm always leery of anyone wanting me to read anything about here. I'm inspired plenty already, thank you very much, said the intolerable ironist. And I would never have considered picking this one up had I not been blown away by the excerpt in BAC (see #122, below). I was moved by those pages and I was moved by the book. The moment where Helen discovers language is so thrilling I nearly wept.evening
An excellent choice made by Lambert is to let us get to know Annie better---her backstory is arguably more tragic than Helen's---and to understand her spunk and drive and determination and fortitude. She is a true hero.
Besides the characters and the story, one of the great successes of this volume is its means of representing Helen's aloneness in a blank world.
The way the world intrudes into her space---how it threatens---builds empathy for Helen as much as any art could. Which is remarkable, given that comics would not have been an easy medium for Helen Keller to enjoy.
Not that that would have stopped her.
Short---just the right length, in fact---this is the finest recent single-author poetry collection I've read in a few years. Although I will admit that some of the final section of poems come off a bit whiney after the powerful historical digging of the earlier portions. The problem is that the final section is quite personal while the upper portions generally focus on the sins of her forebears and those of the nation and---specifically---of the horrors of slavery. Dealing with Jefferson's failings (he was a slaveowner, lest we forget) and those of the Taylor's is moving and provocative and complicated. And it seems like much of the About My Own Life poems of the last section might have been better served by being placed first in the collection. In other words, by having them be a launching point rather than a concluding destination.perhaps as much as a month though not likely
Though everything I've just said should be modified by the final two lines of the collection:
...And, No, my mother says, you haven't listened.Which manages to succinctly take her personal hardships and place them back into the historical context established up front. Growing up in "working-class bungalows" does not compare to growing up enslaved.
No, it wasn't like that really---
Which is exactly the point.
A good book. Accessible to anyone, but will reward additional time spent digging into its lines. Check it out.
I should mention that the author is a near neighbor of mine and that we have had some interactions, though I first heard about her on NPR. If the book were a little cheaper I would order a class set. I would love to take a stab at teaching this book. Knowing I can get her to come in is just gravy.
The genius of Snicket's books is how he gets emotion out of what he does not say. What he doesn't say about Ellington Feint. What he doesn't say about his sister.couple weeks at most
I also would like to know if someone's made a list of the books and music and stuff referenced in this series and never by name...?
first wrong question
Jeff Smith and I must have similar tastes because although I doubted that some of these were the "best" of the reading period, there was nothing here I actively disliked. In fact I currently have three books on request at the library (1, 2, 3)that were excerpted herein. (It would be four, but they don't have Rachel Rising.) And although I certainly approve of Kate Beaton, the selection seems odd to me. Anyway, you certainly don't pick up a volume like this expecting to be ecstatic about every selection. But srsly: Jeff Smith done good.two or so weeks
-th-
The publisher contacted me and offered this book for my review.four or so months
Although part of the selling point of this book is writing from experts described with words like "Dr" and "Oxford University," in fact this book contains no real criticism of the field. Just boosterism. Which I suppose is fine for someone bumping into Steampunk for the first time, but if you're familiar with the field, it seems like a real lost opportunity. Some real analysis would have been terrific and made me much more enthused over this slim, glossy, photo-filled volume.
It seems pretty clear that many if not all of the artists wrote their own bios and captions, giving the impression that the curator's curating was minimal. Another lost opportunity. But I suppose the artform is young and it's practitioners are few and you take what you can get. Anyway, it sometimes feels that way.
But. That said, there is still some crazy awesome stuff in this book. Here are some artists to explore further: Jessica Joslin, Tom Banwell, Mikhail Smolyanov, Richard Nagy. I picked these because their stuff is cool and they're wildly different from each other. This steampunk is a broader field than your punk kid thinks.
This has been the car book since The Little Friend. Sadly, unlike that novel, it's not a masterpiece of prose that rewards the reader who's dropping by for a paragraph or two while waiting with the hazards going. No, Hillerman pops corn. So eat it fast, before it gets stale and the fake butter congeals.six months
That said, I did enjoy the look into Navajo culture which, given Hillerman's awards from Navajo groups, I assume is fair and reasonably accurate. Frankly, although on one level, this is just another popcorn thriller, its milieu makes it absolutely worth reading and I'm very happy the series has been so popular. Reading something so . . . forgive me, alien, increased my sense of humanity and my empathy for a people this country has not always been terribly kind to (cf litotes). And that, methinks, is extremely worthy.
This was a glorious library-sale find, and the most surprising thing is that even though the book's sixty-two years old, it's pretty much impossible to distinguish, design-wise, from any other New Yorker book ever. I love how they got it right the first time and then never had to fix it. Tiny tweaks only.about a month
Anyway, this collection has a lot of cartoons I've never seen before, and I've been devouring New Yorker cartoon collections over twenty years. Many of them are very much of their time---some to a level to which I can barely guess. Some artists who seem pivotal now---James Thurber, Charles Addams---are surprisingly lightly represented.
It's like a time machine to Flapperville and World War II. And some tropes I thought were fairly recent---old ladies' dogs being their children---surprised me with their age.
All in all, a delightful read. Even with some shades of old-timey racism and sexism, this is a pretty swell book to have on the shelf for my kids to find someday and to introduce them to the great heritage of New Yorker cartoons.
Like I said about the second book in the series, this was an utterly delightful listen and although it has more damns than Encyclopedia Brown, I'm glad my kids are into it.about a month
Sadly, we've had no long road trips lately so getting through a 12-cd book in only a single renewal was not easy. We had to take a long drive tonight in order to get it back to the library on time.
But Moist was his regular rascally self and the book pops like all of Pratchett's work should, and the third in the series is on cd is just a few months.
We're all very excited.
The Big O recently read all of these books (a feat I never accomplished---the last two books were published while I was in high school or years graduated) and loved them. He pushed me to make this our next out-loud book. Large S enjoyed it quite a bit and even Little Lord Steed got into it by the end.a few weeks
As for me?
It holds up. I don't suppose one would call it properly quote-unquote enlightened, but it's not ignorant of more modern racial thinking. And it's a good yarn. Reid does an impressive job balancing the inherent wonder and horror of the situation---even if she certainly errs on the side of fun and forgiveness. As she must, given her audience. A spoonful of sugar and so forth.
