Book Review: Thirteen Ways of Looking

  By Colum McCann

• Pub Date: 2015

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I love me a good collection of Irish short stories. 

 *****

 

  I am sad that I was generally disappointed in this collection of a novella and three short stories. I have liked several of the author's previous works.

    OK. The stories themselves were decent. The last one, Treaty, about a aging Catholic nun who comes face-to-face with her living nightmare, was thoughtful and compelling. But that one suffered from a flaw the others were far more guilty of, and unexpected from such an accomplished writer: A general lack of focus, using too many words, too much excess description, too much meaningless detail and too many strained metaphors  

    But let's start with the good. Treaty involves Sister Beverly, a nun living in a care home in Long Island, concerned about her health and wondering if her religious life has been a waste. She's forgetful, ill at ease, and unable to feel comfortable in her old age. Then on the television, she sees a man who looks very much like an older version of person who raped her a long time ago. 

    The story deals with perception, pain, horror, and regret. She relives her pain, but does not want to dwell on it as the defining point of her life. Would God want her to reveal the monster -- if that is what he is -- or forgive his actions? Her thoughts and behaviors are deeply compelling, and McCann's tale paints a masterful image.

    Contrast that to the main story, about Peter J. Mendelssohn,  an aging white guy, an immigrant, a Jew, a lawyer, and a former judge in Brooklyn. He's retired, and now living -- and dying -- in a fancy apartment on the Upper East Side. He's had a good life, despite an upbringing in anti-Semitic Europe. But now his days are all about his pains, his diminished capacity, his beloved but now dead wife, and his terse relationship with his egotistical son. 

    But unlike Sister Beverly, his story is not about reflection and regret. It's about him, his thoughts, and his dying. And, quite frankly, his life and story are not all that interesting for the amount of effort it takes to read about it.

    The other two stories, Sh'khol, and What Time is it Now, Where are You? also fall flat.

Book Review: If it Bleeds

 If It Bleeds, by Stephen King

    OK. This is a Stephen King book. So you know it's going to have good writting, lively characters with distinct personalities, and a story that moves along in time and space.

    This collection of four novellas is all of that. Except for the stories. They are predictable, well-worn tales. Ideas that King dusted off and liked, possibly thinking they were good enough the first time around, so why not use them again. 

    I couldn't find a single plot device in this grouping that isn't a King trope.

    He's explored a tender relationship between a teenager and an older person. He's examined a writer who is haunted by his characters and his work. He's done apocalyptic events, using them for many purposes, including making it a simple tale about the end of the world. Almost all of his tales about children and teenagers show their being bullied or the bullies. In King's work, children's memories always come back to haunt them. And to top it off, he has to bring back a popular character to relive her torment.

    Really, Constant Writer, what should we Constant Readers have expected to happen when you put a cell phone in someone's coffin? Isn't that a bit mundane? Something that, perhaps, a lesser writer and storyteller would have come up with? When putting that one down on paper, and editing your work, did you really sit back, reflect on the idea, and think, "Awesome! Wow!"?

    Clearly, this is not King's best, most original work. 

    But despite all that, I enjoyed the collection. It was a quick read. If it isn't King's best work, it certainly isn't his worst. The characters are memorable, and for the most part, they are good, honest, salt-of-the-earth Yankees. The writing is compelling. It moves along.

    But Constant Writer has done a lot better.

Book Review: Going the Distance

Going the Distance: The Life and Works of W.P. Kinsella, by William Steele

Kinsella's life was successful, yet uneven. The same can be said for this biography.

For starters, it was filled with too much minutia. I do not need to know about every date Kinsella went on in high school, nor every address where he lived.

Instead, I would have liked more information about the reviews and responses to Kinsella's works, especially the debate about the fiction he wrote in the voice of indigenous people. The view that Kinsella was guilty of cultural appropriation grew throughout his life -- particularly as he became more popular for his other works -- but was treated as an afterthought in the book, spread out amidst the pages, rather than as an idea that should have been evaluated as a specific criticism of a portion of his work.

Perhaps the structure of the biography dictated how it was handled. Instead of categorical breakdown, it was written in a strict chronological order.

Still, the book presented a wealth of information about Kinsella's life and writings. He set his goal on being a writer at an early age, and despite feeling hampered and discouraged throughout those early years, made good on his goal. The book also showed how incidents in Kinsella's upbringing on an isolated farm outside of Edmonton, Canada, affected his prose. He used other experiences in his life in his stories and novels, but denied his works were biographical. Again, this issue could have been explored in a chapter, instead of interspersed in the book.

Kinsella, who died of assisted suicide in 2016, also had a disjointed private life. He hated most of his early government jobs, because he hated government and bureaucracy. He became a university professor for a span, but for the most part, he hated teaching. He hated all forms of religion, but his description of religious people could mirror a description of himself.

"... (T)here is a smugness about every one of them, a condescending sense of superiority, which the more they try to hide it, the more it shows."

The book is at its best when it explores Kinsella's growth as a writer. That may be because the growth went along Kinsella's timeline -- for the most part, he got better as he grew older and more experienced.

He was a prolific writer, often having five or more stories and books in process. He often would expand his short stories into novels -- a criticism by people who thought he was unduly padding out his stories -- but one that I would argue produced some of his best work. Shoeless Joe, for instance, started out as a short short, then a novel, and later became the movie Field of Dreams.

Steele spends a lot of time describing how the book traveled its path and grew into a cultural touchstone. He also discussed the impact it had on Kinsella and his life as a writer.

Kinsella's death in 2016 came as a shock, but his health had long been poor, and he went out as he wanted. He spurned life-extending measures that would have caused much pain and suffering, and choose to end his own life.

Book Review: Ghost Mine

Ghost Mine: by Hunter Shea

This post is part of a blog tour leading up to the publication of the book on May 30. I received a copy of the book for participating in the tour.

Ghost Mine is a scary little book, chock full of weird characters spilling over with wickedness and villainy, evil happenings beyond the imagination of most men, and places of darkness and horror that make your worst nightmares seem like a sunny field of flowers.

It is the fight between good and evil, of men and women against a literal devil, in a battle that could only be conceived in the mind, because it is too horrible to exist in any world we know. Yet there are also good men and women, willing to risk their very souls for others. There is friendship and camaraderie, love and tenderness, and trust and togetherness.

Hunter Shea calls himself the "product of a misspent childhood watching scary movies, reading, and wishing Bigfoot (who receives a mention in Ghost Mine) would walk past his house." He is the author of more than 25 books, including two series. He writes thrillers, horror, the paranormal, and is proud that his books are on display at the International Cryptozoology Museum. 

While I enjoy a good scare as well as the next person, I must admit I was a little leery reading the background and synopsis of this novel. I feared an over-the-top slasher/horror fest.

I was wrong.

What I read was a thoughtful exploration of fear and the afterlife, a look at how terror can exist on another level, and perhaps cross over into our world. It's a look at religion and death, and how we fit them into our existence.

The book, which is set in the early 1900s, during the term of President Theodore Roosevelt, has a small cast of characters. There's Nat Blackburn, an old-time cowboy and mercenarie, who fought with Roosevelt and his Rough Riders. There's Teta, who has ridden and fought alongside Blackburn. 

After a few introductory chapters introducing the characters and setting the stage -- which has Roosevelt sending Blackburn and Teta out west to find out why men, including U.S. troops, are disappearing in the small Wyoming mining town of Hecla. The copper mines were previously booming, and rumors spread that gold was discovered, but then all went quiet. Anyone sent out there never returned.

As the two men visit the area and their adventure begins, Blackburn and Teta eventually come across others who join them in their quest. They all play important roles in the story. Shea gives us no extraneous characters. 

Indeed, it's a tightly written book. Shea gets into a scene, and gets out. As each character is integral to the plot, each word he chooses is perfect for the sentence, and each sentence, paragraph, and chapter is essential to the plot. 

I like a writer who doesn't waste words. Shea is that writer.

Book Review: Dreyer's English

Dreyer's English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style, by Benjamin Dreyer

Most books about grammar can be boring -- especially those that combine rules of writing (sometimes the rules are gathered willy-nilly and often are wrong), with long lists of misused words.

Dreyer's English keeps the boring part to a minimum, and makes up for it with splendid gems mixed throughout, such as this: "ATM machine: ATM = automated teller machine, which, one might argue and win the argument, is redundant enough as it is."

 

His list of rules can be forgiving, but not unduly so. He points out, correctly, that the entire purpose of language is to communicate, so you need rules to understand each other. But he notes the English language is constantly changing and adapting, which is good, otherwise we'd be speaking and reading Old English, with no words to describe modern life.

He's generous: He doesn't like the singular "they" but recognizes why people insist on using it. (I agree.) He agrees that "begging the question" is often misused, but people should get over it because it's here to stay. (I disagree; it should be fought at every turn.) He is adamant that "unique" is singular and means one of a kind, which cannot be modified by degree. (This may be my top crochet; I cringe every time I see "very unique.")

And his discussion regarding use of "woman" as a adjective instead of "female" is not only thoughtful and persuasive, but leads to his best line in the book.

"Whether you choose to characterize professionals by gender is not my business. How you do it is. Dammit, Jim, I'm a copy editor, not a sociologist."