Book 27: Sherlock Holmes: Fact or Fiction? by T. S. Blakeney, isbn 9781883402107, 134 pages, Otto Penzler, $7.95
Blakeney's biography is one I've often heard about but only just came across in a used bookstore, in the reissue edition from Otto Penzler books. Blakeney wrote this in 1932 and Penzler reissued it as part of his "Sherlock Holmes Library" in the 1990s. I have to say that while it was a fun read, I can't say I was as impressed as people implied I should be. The chapter on Holmes' relationship with Scotland Yard is fun without a doubt. The bulk of the book is an attempt to put Holmes original published adventures in chronological order -- I don't know if Blakeney was the first to do this but he certainly wasn't the last. Not being quite the Holmes devotee others are, I can't say whether I agree or disagree with Blakeney's logic concerning the placement of stories that have no internal dating or are dated inconsistently, but I can say it seemed logical to me and was fun to read.
The back cover copy says the appendices discuss Dr. Watson's second marriage -- and one does, but barely long enough to refute an earlier researcher's theory without Blakeney advancing an alternate name. The appendix refuting the theory that Holmes and Moriarty were the same person fares a little better in terms of length and commentary.
A fun read, and one I'm sure the Holmes aficionados I know have already read more than once.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
review of A Hundred Words for Hate
I'm growing increasingly disappointed in the Remy Chandler books. I love, love, love the concept of an angel who willingly leaves Heaven after The War is over, choosing to walk among humans and behave as one, who then gets pulled back into all manner of battles that are epically Biblical in nature. I love Remy/Remiel's divided nature (Seraphim vs. Human personalities). I love the basic concepts Sniegoski comes up with to fill Remy's life with adventure: the return of the Four Horsemen, the real fate of Lucifer, and now the possible return of the Garden of Eden. I've enjoyed the author's twists on Biblical folks like Samson, Delilah, Noah and others.
But somewhere in the last two books, I've discovered that Sniegoski's execution of those concepts just doesn't work for me. I finished this book because it's a Remy Chandler book and I love the character -- but I felt none of the excitement, drama, and concern that I should have felt considering the concept of the book overall and the twists it puts in place for the main series characters (Remy and his cop friend Steven Mulvehill most of all, and also Remy's dead angel friend Francis/Fraciel). Largely, this felt like a place-holder book, a moving of chess pieces: the events surrounding Francis spew directly from the end of the previous book, and the events involving Mulvehill seem intended to set up his character arc for the next book ... and in Mulvehill's case particularly it feels like what happens to him has little or no bearing on the actual main plot or even a secondary plot.
So why is Sniegoski's style not working for me? A few reasons, I think. One is that his style just feels too sparse. To me, the books feel like they'd rather be television episodes. The scene changes (especially those that occur mid-chapter and jump from one character to another) feel like there should be commercial breaks inserted, or at least dramatic-close-up-theme-music being played over a brief fade to black. The dialogue is occasionally repetitive (and more than once, exact phrasing is repeated in describing two different characters, something an editor should have caught) and feels perfectly detective-show-cliche. I'm okay with sparse scenery descriptions that allow the reader to imagine what things look like, but Sniegoski goes beyond sparse into bare-minimum in a way that works against my mental picture instead of allowing it to form.
Another reason might have to do with one of my pet peeves about series fiction. I find that typically authors go to one extreme or the other -- they either tell us too much about the events of previous books, thus bogging down the current book's pace, or they tell us too little to remind us of where the characters are coming from in relation to the new book, so that we have to struggle to determine if what we're seeing is character growth or just inconsistency on the author's part. This time, Sniegoski falls into that latter group. If an author is going to use a book's b-plot to make major changes to a character's status quo, we need enough detail to understand why that change is important, and I don't feel like we got that in the case of either Francis or Mulvehill -- both of whom have life (or after-life)-changing experiences in this book.
Finally, there's the fact that my reaction to most of what happens in the book is to ask "why should I care about this moment, this supporting character? Should I be trying to place it all in context with the previous books? Is it worth the effort?" After a while, I gave up trying to tax my brain, and I gave up caring very much. I don't want to give up completely, but I suspect I will not rush to read the next Chandler book as soon as it comes out.
But somewhere in the last two books, I've discovered that Sniegoski's execution of those concepts just doesn't work for me. I finished this book because it's a Remy Chandler book and I love the character -- but I felt none of the excitement, drama, and concern that I should have felt considering the concept of the book overall and the twists it puts in place for the main series characters (Remy and his cop friend Steven Mulvehill most of all, and also Remy's dead angel friend Francis/Fraciel). Largely, this felt like a place-holder book, a moving of chess pieces: the events surrounding Francis spew directly from the end of the previous book, and the events involving Mulvehill seem intended to set up his character arc for the next book ... and in Mulvehill's case particularly it feels like what happens to him has little or no bearing on the actual main plot or even a secondary plot.
So why is Sniegoski's style not working for me? A few reasons, I think. One is that his style just feels too sparse. To me, the books feel like they'd rather be television episodes. The scene changes (especially those that occur mid-chapter and jump from one character to another) feel like there should be commercial breaks inserted, or at least dramatic-close-up-theme-music being played over a brief fade to black. The dialogue is occasionally repetitive (and more than once, exact phrasing is repeated in describing two different characters, something an editor should have caught) and feels perfectly detective-show-cliche. I'm okay with sparse scenery descriptions that allow the reader to imagine what things look like, but Sniegoski goes beyond sparse into bare-minimum in a way that works against my mental picture instead of allowing it to form.
Another reason might have to do with one of my pet peeves about series fiction. I find that typically authors go to one extreme or the other -- they either tell us too much about the events of previous books, thus bogging down the current book's pace, or they tell us too little to remind us of where the characters are coming from in relation to the new book, so that we have to struggle to determine if what we're seeing is character growth or just inconsistency on the author's part. This time, Sniegoski falls into that latter group. If an author is going to use a book's b-plot to make major changes to a character's status quo, we need enough detail to understand why that change is important, and I don't feel like we got that in the case of either Francis or Mulvehill -- both of whom have life (or after-life)-changing experiences in this book.
Finally, there's the fact that my reaction to most of what happens in the book is to ask "why should I care about this moment, this supporting character? Should I be trying to place it all in context with the previous books? Is it worth the effort?" After a while, I gave up trying to tax my brain, and I gave up caring very much. I don't want to give up completely, but I suspect I will not rush to read the next Chandler book as soon as it comes out.
review of Mockingjay
I'm giving this the same rating I gave Book Two. Although Collins does a good job of incorporating the important information about the events of books one and two into the action here without resorting to "info-dump" style writing, I still don't think you can pick this book up and run with it without having read the earlier installments. That's part of the reason for the slightly lower grade than book one received. The other reason is that the things that made book one so interesting and such a fast read (the fast pace of the prose; Katniss' innocent inability to understand the actions of her peers in context of the bigger picture; Katniss' inherent inability to trust anyone) are now feeling a bit predictable and old hat, until near the end. I found myself, in this volume more than the other two, wanting to tell Katniss to get her head out of her ass and start picking up on the not-so-subtle comments of those around her. In book one, I was fine with Kat not realizing that Peeta's love for her wasn't an act; by this book I was aggravated at the things Kat took for granted and failed to connect on. (I'd say more on that score, but I don't want to spoil anything for those still intending to read the books.)
What redeems the book and keeps it from dropping to a "three" rating is most of that ending. Kudos to Collins for not delivering on my jaded expectations as to who would live and who would die. (Okay, at least one of the deaths near the end was expected; but one most surely was not, at least by this reader, and the two deaths I most expected did not happen at all.) The very very end (as in the last three pages or so) felt a bit rushed -- which is saying a lot in a series that moves as fast as this one does -- but that doesn't detract from the emotion and turns of the 50 or so pages that precede those three.
I have to say I am glad I read these books. I may have gotten aggravated with her at times, but I like Katniss. I like Peeta and Gale and Prim; I even liked Haymitch and Finnick despite the initial dislike accorded their actions when they first meet Katniss. I also have to say I understand why my friends who have kids find the series increasingly uncomfortable. It's sort of like reading Stephen King's PET SEMATARY -- you don't want these things happening to kids you actually know, and by the end of these books you feel like Katniss and Co are kids you know. You also recognize that they are for the most part older than their years.
What redeems the book and keeps it from dropping to a "three" rating is most of that ending. Kudos to Collins for not delivering on my jaded expectations as to who would live and who would die. (Okay, at least one of the deaths near the end was expected; but one most surely was not, at least by this reader, and the two deaths I most expected did not happen at all.) The very very end (as in the last three pages or so) felt a bit rushed -- which is saying a lot in a series that moves as fast as this one does -- but that doesn't detract from the emotion and turns of the 50 or so pages that precede those three.
I have to say I am glad I read these books. I may have gotten aggravated with her at times, but I like Katniss. I like Peeta and Gale and Prim; I even liked Haymitch and Finnick despite the initial dislike accorded their actions when they first meet Katniss. I also have to say I understand why my friends who have kids find the series increasingly uncomfortable. It's sort of like reading Stephen King's PET SEMATARY -- you don't want these things happening to kids you actually know, and by the end of these books you feel like Katniss and Co are kids you know. You also recognize that they are for the most part older than their years.
Review of Name of the Wind
This is another book I struggled to rate; part of me is expecting to be lambasted for giving even this low of a score, and part of me wants to drop it down to a 3. I know how much this books means to so many people (and in fact one of the friends who loves it so much read it because I pointed it out in a bookstore and said "yeah, I've heard great things about this one..."), and I wanted to like it more than I did, but ultimately I felt it was Very Good, but not Unequaled.
So what did I like or admire (not always the same thing)? I give full marks to Rothfuss for writing an epic fantasy in first person, with the Hero of Legend telling his own story not-so-many years after the fact. Kvothe, once he gets on a roll, has a voice that must be paid attention to even if you don't believe half of what he's saying. And the details of the world-building are terrific -- I really felt like I was "in" the cities with Kvothe, the workings of the world make absolute sense, there's a great internal logic to everything that is clear and yet allows room for mystery. The tactic of "here's the real story behind the story" has been used before (one of my favorite instances being Parke Godwin's FIRELORD, a novel of King Arthur narrated by Arthur, which starts with the classic phrase "who you are depends on who's telling your story.") but Rothfuss elevates it with his use of language, and what I perceive to be his willingness to allow us to dislike Kvothe.
Because honestly, when it comes down to it -- I do dislike Kvothe. And I'm sure I'm in the minority in that opinion, but hear me out. Framing sequence or not, what we get once Kvothe starts talking is a man who claims to want the truth of his story set down to contradict the legends and fabrications that have grown about him and his deeds, but who in actually is building that myth himself. There are points where the adult Kvothe says that events have been exaggerated and yet his own version of those events is structured to cast him as something larger than human and greater than those around him. Every woman he encounters eventually swoons in his presence or feels he can do no wrong; every man is either his fast-and-best friend or his sworn enemy, or not important enough to rate much more than a name (with the exception of a few of the University Masters, the only characters who seem truly ambivalent about Kvothe). Now -- disliking Kvothe does not equal dislike of the book. Like I said, Kvothe has a voice that must be listened to, once he gets moving. For me, that took close to 300 pages; proportionately that's about as much time as I give any novel to make or break.
What did I dislike? The framing sequence and interludes slowed the pace of the book down -- and in a book where it takes 700 pages to lay out the hero's childhood (and not even all of that!) and only barely touches on the legendary things he supposedly did, a slow framing sequence feels deadly. I understand the reasons it exists (Why is Kvothe telling his story, and to whom? And what are the current events that may bring him finally out of "retirement"/hiding?) but everything that happens in the present feels unimportant at this point. I'm sure by the time the Chronicle is done, those events will have taken on greater significance, but by then I'll probably have forgotten the Smith's Apprentice's name and what he did to earn Kvothe's respect. I also disliked the incredible amount of detail in Kvothe's rememberances -- again, for someone who claims to want his truth put down clearly, he spends an awful lot of time recalling details of what people were wearing and how often they sneezed (okay, that's an exageration, I don't think he ever mentions sneezing or any other bodily function -- but in retrospect it sure feels like he was that detailed in his account). There's a certain willing suspension of disbelief in first person narration -- no one can possibly remember exactly what everyone said in any given situation -- but I felt like at points Kvothe (thus, Rothfuss) took it a bit too far. Perhaps almost 800 pages x 3 books is a bit much for that suspension.
So, for me personally, the book doesn't quite live up to the hype. I'm glad I read it, and I will read THE WISE MAN'S FEAR (book two) when it comes out in paperback. The book is still good, and Kvothe's voice is still interesting to me.
So what did I like or admire (not always the same thing)? I give full marks to Rothfuss for writing an epic fantasy in first person, with the Hero of Legend telling his own story not-so-many years after the fact. Kvothe, once he gets on a roll, has a voice that must be paid attention to even if you don't believe half of what he's saying. And the details of the world-building are terrific -- I really felt like I was "in" the cities with Kvothe, the workings of the world make absolute sense, there's a great internal logic to everything that is clear and yet allows room for mystery. The tactic of "here's the real story behind the story" has been used before (one of my favorite instances being Parke Godwin's FIRELORD, a novel of King Arthur narrated by Arthur, which starts with the classic phrase "who you are depends on who's telling your story.") but Rothfuss elevates it with his use of language, and what I perceive to be his willingness to allow us to dislike Kvothe.
Because honestly, when it comes down to it -- I do dislike Kvothe. And I'm sure I'm in the minority in that opinion, but hear me out. Framing sequence or not, what we get once Kvothe starts talking is a man who claims to want the truth of his story set down to contradict the legends and fabrications that have grown about him and his deeds, but who in actually is building that myth himself. There are points where the adult Kvothe says that events have been exaggerated and yet his own version of those events is structured to cast him as something larger than human and greater than those around him. Every woman he encounters eventually swoons in his presence or feels he can do no wrong; every man is either his fast-and-best friend or his sworn enemy, or not important enough to rate much more than a name (with the exception of a few of the University Masters, the only characters who seem truly ambivalent about Kvothe). Now -- disliking Kvothe does not equal dislike of the book. Like I said, Kvothe has a voice that must be listened to, once he gets moving. For me, that took close to 300 pages; proportionately that's about as much time as I give any novel to make or break.
What did I dislike? The framing sequence and interludes slowed the pace of the book down -- and in a book where it takes 700 pages to lay out the hero's childhood (and not even all of that!) and only barely touches on the legendary things he supposedly did, a slow framing sequence feels deadly. I understand the reasons it exists (Why is Kvothe telling his story, and to whom? And what are the current events that may bring him finally out of "retirement"/hiding?) but everything that happens in the present feels unimportant at this point. I'm sure by the time the Chronicle is done, those events will have taken on greater significance, but by then I'll probably have forgotten the Smith's Apprentice's name and what he did to earn Kvothe's respect. I also disliked the incredible amount of detail in Kvothe's rememberances -- again, for someone who claims to want his truth put down clearly, he spends an awful lot of time recalling details of what people were wearing and how often they sneezed (okay, that's an exageration, I don't think he ever mentions sneezing or any other bodily function -- but in retrospect it sure feels like he was that detailed in his account). There's a certain willing suspension of disbelief in first person narration -- no one can possibly remember exactly what everyone said in any given situation -- but I felt like at points Kvothe (thus, Rothfuss) took it a bit too far. Perhaps almost 800 pages x 3 books is a bit much for that suspension.
So, for me personally, the book doesn't quite live up to the hype. I'm glad I read it, and I will read THE WISE MAN'S FEAR (book two) when it comes out in paperback. The book is still good, and Kvothe's voice is still interesting to me.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Review of Vampire Relationship Guide
I'm going to break this down into The Good and the Not-So-Good to try and keep my thoughts a bit more on track than the first draft of this review turned out.
The Good: This may be one of the funniest genre pastiches I've ever read. Vampire (and other supernatural creature) Romance is a huge market right now, and in 90 pages Evelyn Lafont manages to crack wise about almost every trope of the genre. I haven't even read that much supernatural romance (urban fantasy of the detective/crime realm is more my cup of tea) and I found myself smiling or laughing or nodding knowingly throughout the book. The main reason I enjoyed the book is that it does not take itself too seriously. The book is a fast easy read with lots of funny dialogue and wink-wink-nudge-nudge humor regarding the current obsession with sexy vampires. The author also does a nice job of taking all the standards of vampire lore and giving them the tweaks necessary to make them work in her world without straying too far from what is "canon" about vampires: they drink blood because the magic in their bodies prevents them from making new red blood cells; channels in their teeth draw the blood directly into their circulatory system; drinking blood is an act of sustenance not sexuality; anything that would cause a vamp to lose blood or that would destroy blood cells will eventually kill them (not just a stake to the heart, but any gaping bleeding wound, etc). The main character, Josie, is a bit of a rural rube in her thirties -- almost too innocent despite claims of being jaded -- that is a perfect send-up of the young-nubile-innocent heroine trope. The lead vamps, Gregory and Walker, fit the standard romantic types as well.
The Not-So-Good: Because of the length, there is not a lot of obvious world-building beyond those basics of vampirism, and what other world-building details are mentioned are inconsistent throughout the book. For instance, we are told early on that Vampires are as publicly recognized a minority as any other group you can think of and that laws have been passed declaring that businesses must stay open 24 hours a day to accommodate those who cannot go out in the sun; there's no detail on how long ago Vampires "came out," or how readily they were accepted into mainstream culture. This creates a problem for our main character: vampires are common enough that it's apparently fairly easy to find them, and yet Josie knows so little about vampire culture that she asks incredibly personal questions at the absolute most wrong moments. I realize Josie's questions are a way to get the basic info about vampires mentioned above into the reader's path, but the result is a main character who in social situations is either incredibly stupid (this stuff should be mostly common knowledge and she doesn't have that knowledge despite her vamp-obsession) or incredibly insensitive (she knows what she's asking is a bit personal, but asks anyway, almost like she has no verbal filter between her brain and her mouth). I'm leaning towards the former, because I like the idea of Josie as a play on the young-nubile-innocent heroine and if she's knowledgeable-but-insensitive I don't think I like her as much.
The Part I'm Undecided About: As the book moves from "meeting vampires for sex" to "our heroine is in danger, who will save her" tropes, the plot either becomes burdened with holes large enough to drive a hearse through or becomes a pastiche on the action/adventure genre. i can't speak for the author or her intent, but I have plans to interview her and hopefully will get some insight. I'll post a link when I put the interview up on my website.
Overall, though, I recommend VAMPIRE RELATIONSHIP GUIDE to anyone who enjoys vampire romance fiction and likes a good send-up of genre tropes. I suspect Evelyn Lafont will be continuing the series (otherwise why call this Volume One) and it will be interesting to see how she maintains the tone of this volume.
The Good: This may be one of the funniest genre pastiches I've ever read. Vampire (and other supernatural creature) Romance is a huge market right now, and in 90 pages Evelyn Lafont manages to crack wise about almost every trope of the genre. I haven't even read that much supernatural romance (urban fantasy of the detective/crime realm is more my cup of tea) and I found myself smiling or laughing or nodding knowingly throughout the book. The main reason I enjoyed the book is that it does not take itself too seriously. The book is a fast easy read with lots of funny dialogue and wink-wink-nudge-nudge humor regarding the current obsession with sexy vampires. The author also does a nice job of taking all the standards of vampire lore and giving them the tweaks necessary to make them work in her world without straying too far from what is "canon" about vampires: they drink blood because the magic in their bodies prevents them from making new red blood cells; channels in their teeth draw the blood directly into their circulatory system; drinking blood is an act of sustenance not sexuality; anything that would cause a vamp to lose blood or that would destroy blood cells will eventually kill them (not just a stake to the heart, but any gaping bleeding wound, etc). The main character, Josie, is a bit of a rural rube in her thirties -- almost too innocent despite claims of being jaded -- that is a perfect send-up of the young-nubile-innocent heroine trope. The lead vamps, Gregory and Walker, fit the standard romantic types as well.
The Not-So-Good: Because of the length, there is not a lot of obvious world-building beyond those basics of vampirism, and what other world-building details are mentioned are inconsistent throughout the book. For instance, we are told early on that Vampires are as publicly recognized a minority as any other group you can think of and that laws have been passed declaring that businesses must stay open 24 hours a day to accommodate those who cannot go out in the sun; there's no detail on how long ago Vampires "came out," or how readily they were accepted into mainstream culture. This creates a problem for our main character: vampires are common enough that it's apparently fairly easy to find them, and yet Josie knows so little about vampire culture that she asks incredibly personal questions at the absolute most wrong moments. I realize Josie's questions are a way to get the basic info about vampires mentioned above into the reader's path, but the result is a main character who in social situations is either incredibly stupid (this stuff should be mostly common knowledge and she doesn't have that knowledge despite her vamp-obsession) or incredibly insensitive (she knows what she's asking is a bit personal, but asks anyway, almost like she has no verbal filter between her brain and her mouth). I'm leaning towards the former, because I like the idea of Josie as a play on the young-nubile-innocent heroine and if she's knowledgeable-but-insensitive I don't think I like her as much.
The Part I'm Undecided About: As the book moves from "meeting vampires for sex" to "our heroine is in danger, who will save her" tropes, the plot either becomes burdened with holes large enough to drive a hearse through or becomes a pastiche on the action/adventure genre. i can't speak for the author or her intent, but I have plans to interview her and hopefully will get some insight. I'll post a link when I put the interview up on my website.
Overall, though, I recommend VAMPIRE RELATIONSHIP GUIDE to anyone who enjoys vampire romance fiction and likes a good send-up of genre tropes. I suspect Evelyn Lafont will be continuing the series (otherwise why call this Volume One) and it will be interesting to see how she maintains the tone of this volume.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Review of Composed
Book 21: Composed: a memoir by Rosanne Cash, isbn 9780670021963, 245 pages, Viking, $26.95
Premise: (from the inside cover flap): "Composed is the story of an artist finding her voice -- both figuratlively and literally -- in the context of her family legacy, of the commercial imperatives of the music business, and of a desire to preserve some measure of privacy in a life that has been too often subjected to public scrutiny." This is Rosanne Cash's story, in her own words, from being the eldest child of Johnny Cash through being a step-daughter, sister, wife, mother, singer, and songwriter.
My Rating: 5 stars
My Thoughts: Anyone expecting a seething tell-all memoir with the gritty details about Rosanne's parents' divorce, or her divorce from Rodney Crowell, or the health battles of her parents and step-parents, is going to be sorely disappointed in this book. And anyone expecting that kind of memoir doesn't really know anything about Rosanne Cash. Rosanne is gracious to a fault and despite how much time she spends on Twitter she is a very private person. She's spent her whole life (as this book attests) walking that fine line between being a public performer and having a private life. More famous people could follow her lead, and I personally would be happier for it.
What is wonderful about this book is how intensely personal it is without being intensely detailed. I was able to feel Rosanne's pain in all of the above-mentioned life moments; I was able to feel her pride in her children; I was able to feel her confusion about her life-path when things got rocky ... and yet I was able to feel all of this without being privy to every detail of what led to the divorces or what was involved in the childbirth. Rosanne even manages to communicate what it was like being a New Yorker on September 11, 2001, including how most New Yorkers just don't talk about it anymore.
We get plenty of detail about the creation of all of Rosanne's albums, but even there, when she talks about difficulties with the record label or with different producers -- she never lays blame at anyone's feet and never casts herself as completely blameless. She is as gracious to the people she's disagreed with over the years as she is to her friends. I can't imagine her airing dirty laundry ever. The harshest she ever gets in this book is talking about how she argued with the producer on her first album over whether she should record a "guaranteed hit" song. I think the most personal she gets regarding her family is allowing us to read the full text of the Eulogies she delivered for her step-mother and father and mother. I have to be honest that I had to blink away tears reading them. They made me think of all the things I didn't say to my own parents before they passed, and all the things I didn't say about them in the memorials we gave them. (Rosanne talks about the struggles with losing her voice due to illness; I lost my facility for words in the wake of my parents' passings and wish I could have been as eloquent as Rosanne was.)
What we don't get in personal detail is more than made up for in creative detail. Throughout the book, we see how real-life events influence her writing and her willingness to also record songs written by others. We see the influence her father has had on her creative side, as well as the influence of first husband Rodney Crowell, current husband John Leventhal, her daughters and son. She talks about "postcards from the future," songs that become somewhat prescient after they're written.
I feel like this review is rambling, so it's probably time to end it. I'm giving the book 5 stars because I admire the way Rosanne Cash manages to bare her soul without digging dirt, the way she takes the intensely personal and makes it universal, and the way she takes the universal and tinges it with the personal. Even if you don't read a lot of memoirs, I have to recommend this one.
Premise: (from the inside cover flap): "Composed is the story of an artist finding her voice -- both figuratlively and literally -- in the context of her family legacy, of the commercial imperatives of the music business, and of a desire to preserve some measure of privacy in a life that has been too often subjected to public scrutiny." This is Rosanne Cash's story, in her own words, from being the eldest child of Johnny Cash through being a step-daughter, sister, wife, mother, singer, and songwriter.
My Rating: 5 stars
My Thoughts: Anyone expecting a seething tell-all memoir with the gritty details about Rosanne's parents' divorce, or her divorce from Rodney Crowell, or the health battles of her parents and step-parents, is going to be sorely disappointed in this book. And anyone expecting that kind of memoir doesn't really know anything about Rosanne Cash. Rosanne is gracious to a fault and despite how much time she spends on Twitter she is a very private person. She's spent her whole life (as this book attests) walking that fine line between being a public performer and having a private life. More famous people could follow her lead, and I personally would be happier for it.
What is wonderful about this book is how intensely personal it is without being intensely detailed. I was able to feel Rosanne's pain in all of the above-mentioned life moments; I was able to feel her pride in her children; I was able to feel her confusion about her life-path when things got rocky ... and yet I was able to feel all of this without being privy to every detail of what led to the divorces or what was involved in the childbirth. Rosanne even manages to communicate what it was like being a New Yorker on September 11, 2001, including how most New Yorkers just don't talk about it anymore.
We get plenty of detail about the creation of all of Rosanne's albums, but even there, when she talks about difficulties with the record label or with different producers -- she never lays blame at anyone's feet and never casts herself as completely blameless. She is as gracious to the people she's disagreed with over the years as she is to her friends. I can't imagine her airing dirty laundry ever. The harshest she ever gets in this book is talking about how she argued with the producer on her first album over whether she should record a "guaranteed hit" song. I think the most personal she gets regarding her family is allowing us to read the full text of the Eulogies she delivered for her step-mother and father and mother. I have to be honest that I had to blink away tears reading them. They made me think of all the things I didn't say to my own parents before they passed, and all the things I didn't say about them in the memorials we gave them. (Rosanne talks about the struggles with losing her voice due to illness; I lost my facility for words in the wake of my parents' passings and wish I could have been as eloquent as Rosanne was.)
What we don't get in personal detail is more than made up for in creative detail. Throughout the book, we see how real-life events influence her writing and her willingness to also record songs written by others. We see the influence her father has had on her creative side, as well as the influence of first husband Rodney Crowell, current husband John Leventhal, her daughters and son. She talks about "postcards from the future," songs that become somewhat prescient after they're written.
I feel like this review is rambling, so it's probably time to end it. I'm giving the book 5 stars because I admire the way Rosanne Cash manages to bare her soul without digging dirt, the way she takes the intensely personal and makes it universal, and the way she takes the universal and tinges it with the personal. Even if you don't read a lot of memoirs, I have to recommend this one.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Let's Try This Again
Back in mid-January, I abruptly stopped posting my reviews and writerly thoughts here. I've continued to post writing-related thoughts on http://www.anthonycardno.com/, and I've continued to post book reviews on talekyn.livejournal.com and on GoodReads and the Visual Bookshelf application on Facebook.
The reason I stopped posting here was simply because I could not for the life of me figure out how to get Blogspot to send me email notifications when someone leaves a comment on my posts, and I was inadvertently ignoring people when I failed to sign in for days on end and page back through each post. I see now that the problem was not with Blogspot but somewhere between Chair and Keyboard. I think I've got the problem fixed (and even if I don't, I see now where I can go each day to see if comments have been left).
So I will resume cross-posting book reviews and writerly thoughts here. I'd appreciate it, though, if anyone who reads this post would leave a short comment simply so I can see if my email notifications thingie is actually working.
Thanks, all!
The reason I stopped posting here was simply because I could not for the life of me figure out how to get Blogspot to send me email notifications when someone leaves a comment on my posts, and I was inadvertently ignoring people when I failed to sign in for days on end and page back through each post. I see now that the problem was not with Blogspot but somewhere between Chair and Keyboard. I think I've got the problem fixed (and even if I don't, I see now where I can go each day to see if comments have been left).
So I will resume cross-posting book reviews and writerly thoughts here. I'd appreciate it, though, if anyone who reads this post would leave a short comment simply so I can see if my email notifications thingie is actually working.
Thanks, all!
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