Age of Innocence Review

Fiction

Author: Edith Wharton

305 pages

Winner of the 1921 Pulitzer Prize, The Age of Innocence is Edith Wharton’s masterful portrait of desire and betrayal during the sumptuous Golden Age of Old New York, a time when society people “dreaded scandal more than disease.”

This is Newland Archer’s world as he prepares to marry the beautiful but conventional May Welland. But when the mysterious Countess Ellen Olenska returns to New York after a disastrous marriage, Archer falls deeply in love with her. Torn between duty and passion, Archer struggles to make a decision that will either courageously define his life—or mercilessly destroy it.

Completion: Boy did this story drag. There is something about plots involving rich characters that just makes the pacing go out the window.

Writing/Style: The novel read like an old woman telling a story, unable to feel the pulse for the interesting details and events. Line by line the writing isn’t bad, but, when you look at the overall picture, it feels as if the author was unable to decide what details mattered and thus everything is included in the same drab fashion. If the writing had been trimmed down, it would have solved a lot of the pacing issues and perhaps the writing would not have been as grating as it was.

Characters: I found it so hard to relate and sympathize with Archer, the main character, and his rich, white non-problem problems. Half the time I didn’t even believe in Archer’s character. He oscillates back and forth from understanding and being critical of the flaws in his society to mindlessly taking them in stride. While I know this is possible for people to do in real life, it appeared that his opinions and attitude changed not in a progression of his character, but for the convenience of the author. This and his insistent thoughts about Olenska just made him a nauseating character.

Plot/Pacing: The leisurely pacing makes the plot suffer. While perhaps realistic for these Archer and Olenska to be separated by society and travel, it was not written in a way that compounded my interest and tension but instead diluted it. Scenes of conflict and tension were isolated in bubbles littered sparingly throughout the story. Like air out of a balloon, the more time they spent apart the less I cared. Partly due to the story dragging, but mainly because of Archer’s insipid inner dialog and obsession with Olenska. However, without giving anything away, I found the ending quite surprising which I give Wharton credit for. I marinated in it for days afterward and I’m still not quite sure what I make of it. As much as I enjoyed the ending for not going where I thought it was, I'm still not quite sure if it made up for the slog to get there. I spent a long time wondering if this story would have been better suited as a short story, and I think in a lot of ways it would have been. A lot of what bothered me in this novel became more prominent due to its length.

World-building/Atmosphere: While the meandering plot dilutes the tension, it certainly adds to the world-building. By the end of this, I felt I very much understood how people of higher society looked, felt, and spent their time during this period.

Sub-genres (Romance, Humor, Mystery, etc.): If there was humor, it went over my head. There’s not much in the way of mystery except to find out what happens to these characters. Sadly, I did not believe in the romance one smidgen. Archer and Olenska have no chemistry, and, despite the pacing of the overall plot feeling slow, their romance feels oddly accelerated beyond the point of believability. They have quite a few scenes together, but those scenes never add up to love to me.

FINAL VERDICT: For the casual reader, I would give this a pass. It is too much of a struggle to get through for such little reward. For those who appreciate Wharton’s writing, I believe you will be satisfied with this story, and the ending will resonate deeper with you than it did for me. As for me, it looks like I am not much of Wharton fan and will be leaving this book behind me.

This Side of Paradise Review

Fiction

By: F. Scott Fitzgerald

288 pages

This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald's romantic and witty first novel, was written when the author was only twenty-three years old. This semi-autobiographical story of the handsome, indulged, and idealistic Princeton student Amory Blaine received critical raves and catapulted Fitzgerald to instant fame. 

Completion: I finished it. I suppose that's a good thing? I did read this for school though so that helped me get through it.

Writing/Style: You can definitely tell this is Fitzgerald's debut. You get glimmers of his gorgeous imagery and style, but it's not there nearly enough.

Characters: Tired of all those angsty YA heroines? Meet Amory Blaine. He'll make you want those YA heroines back as he goes through his privileged white boy life. The other characters aren't anything to write home about either.

Plot/Pacing: What plot? What pacing? But, seriously, we follow Amory through a large chunk of his life from childhood to post-college, and the pace meanders through as Amory slowly discovers himself. If Amory was more likable, this might not of been as much of a negative, but as it is, the slow pacing makes the book even more of a struggle to finish.  

World-building/Atmosphere: When you are able to look over Amory's big egotistic head, you can really see what it was like in the 1920's. In particular, I wish college today was more like it was in Fitzgerald's time where you went to class but didn't worry about tests or homework and just went on wild adventures. Well, like college back then but minus the racism and sexism, of course.

Sub-genres (Romance, Mystery, Humor, etc.): No mystery, for sure. If there was humor, I didn't catch it. As far as romance goes, Amory is in several romantic relationships, but I never felt emotionally attached to any of them. This is probably because the relationship he shared with the "love of his life" was a very narcissistic relationship for the both of them. It's very melodramatic, and it technically fits what the story is going for, but it lacks that investment from the reader which is a shame because it could have helped to make Amory more likable. 

FINAL VERDICT: If you are a huge fan of Fitzgerald's, then you'll probably want to check this book out. Or rather, you probably already have. From a certain angle, it is interesting to see how Fitzgerald progressed in his writing, and to see bits of his own life mixed in the fiction. However, for most of you, if I were to recommend a Fitzgerald work, I would recommend The Great Gatsby. There's just more of everything there because Fitzgerald has figured out his own writing and polished his ideas. 

Reading Lolita in Tehran Review

Nonfiction

Author: Azar Nafisi

356 pages

Every Thursday morning for two years in the Islamic Republic of Iran, a bold and inspired teacher named Azar Nafisi secretly gathered seven of her most committed female students to read forbidden Western classics. As Islamic morality squads staged arbitrary raids in Tehran, fundamentalists seized hold of the universities, and a blind censor stifled artistic expression, the girls in Azar Nafisi's living room risked removing their veils and immersed themselves in the worlds of Jane Austen, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Henry James, and Vladimir Nabokov. In this extraordinary memoir, their stories become intertwined with the ones they are reading. Reading Lolita in Tehran is a remarkable exploration of resilience in the face of tyranny and a celebration of the liberating power of literature.

Rereadable!

            I was fortunate enough to read this book during a couple of really rainy days this summer. I became completely absorbed in Nafisi’s world. Couped up in my house, I began to imagine the vaguest sense of what Nafisi and her girls must have felt, imagining what it would be like to walk out my door and find my world altered beyond recognition. The idea that I could walk out my door everyday fully covered and become like a ghost or to rebel or to be perceived as rebelling and suffer abuse and injustice, taken away to an uncertain fate, was frightening.

To be clear, I haven’t read all the books that Nafisi taught, but the ones I had read became even more interesting and enlightening in the context of Tehran. The class debate Nafisi facilitated was especially eye-opening and oddly comparable to my limited experience as a teaching intern and student in similar debates.

Of course, I can’t wait to catch up to Nafisi’s reading list so that I may enjoy this book even more in rereads. For those of you that haven’t read any of the books discussed in this one and don’t have a background in literary analysis, I am still torn as to my recommendation. While the sections on Tehran’s history as experienced by Nafisi are indeed heartbreaking, powerful, and sublime, I can see that there will be those who don’t have the patience for the intellectual literary portions of the book. And while I understand that those sections might be difficult or tedious, I pity you, for this is a beautiful novel. I suppose, in the end, you’ll have to decide for yourself. I know I have.

Three Cups of Tea Review

Nonfiction

By: Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

349 pages

Anyone who despairs of the individual’s power to change lives has to read the story of Greg Mortenson, a homeless mountaineer who, following a 1993 climb of Pakistan’s treacherous K2, was inspired by a chance encounter with impoverished mountain villagers and promised to build them a school. Over the next decade he built fifty-five schools—especially for girls—that offer a balanced education in one of the most isolated and dangerous regions on earth. As it chronicles Mortenson’s quest, which has brought him into conflict with both enraged Islamists and uncomprehending Americans, Three Cups of Tea combines adventure with a celebration of the humanitarian spirit.

Rereadable!

            To be completely honest, the introduction's excess praise read like a love letter and made me a little nauseous and more than a little dubious about reading this book. Granted, I was already a little dubious about the idea of a white American man going to "fix" other countries. What if this book was nothing more than an ego boost and big pat on the back? Come to find out, I shouldn’t have worried. 

Greg's actions and results speak for themselves. The writing was lovely and visual, especially when it focused on the landscapes of these areas. The book won me over not only with Greg's determination to work alongside the people and cultures of these countries in a non-aggressive way through education but also the time the book took to flesh out a balanced picture of the Middle East.

David Oliver Relin, the primary author, could have so easily glossed over the nature scenes or the wide cast of characters that Greg encountered, and I was glad to find how much time he took in detailing these people and giving credit to those that helped Greg along the way. By the end of the book, I felt that I was equally educated and inspired.

While I believe the book could have pushed Greg’s character further which could have added some more depth instead of leaning on his heroism, I understand that they obviously wanted success and awareness for the cause, and America certainly loves its heroes. (There are a few hints of Greg’s flaws such as lack of delegation skills/care for his health/timeliness and spending so much time away from his family, but I believe the book would have benefited from more detail). 

Overall, I appreciated the journey it took me on into foreign lands and cultures that have become unfairly deemed as only dangerous and barbaric. I am happy to have read this book, and I would definitely recommend it.

            Now, to address the allegations against Greg Mortenson and this book. I had only heard the faintest whispers of the controversy before I read this book. I purposely read it and reviewed it before looking at the issues surrounding it. I did this so I could try to stay unbiased while reading it and I’m glad I did.

For those who don’t know, there are allegations (I’m not how much has been proved at this point) that there were large exaggerations and omissions in the book and that Greg Mortenson greatly mismanaged money for his projects. And while I cannot condone lying, I cannot help but think about the good this man and this book has done. The number of schools he built and that are still in operation might not be true, but there were schools built and there are still schools in operation. Other details might be wrong as well, but the book still felt much more balanced and respectful toward the people and countries it talks about than I ever heard in the media on the “War in the Middle East”.

It’s such a shame that a controversy like this exists for a book that I think did and can do a lot of good. I felt so much more educated and inspired after reading this book. No matter what they end up finding on the book or Mortenson, that inspiration isn’t false. So while I cannot judge Mortenson and I don’t want to, I am here to judge the book, and I would still recommend the book. While this controversy might mean you should lend it from a friend or rent it from the library, I think it still works as an interesting read, a compelling cause, and education on a part of the world that is misrepresented and ignored.    

Are Book Rating Systems Futile?

The answer would appear to be yes. If we exclude academics and professional critics, rating books is opinion-based, and opinions, as we all know, are far from universal, standardized, or even at times completely rational. Hell, full reviews are still opinion-based but at least provide more detailed reasons for liking and disliking a book. (For the clarity of this discussion, rating systems are what I’m classifying as simplified headings or markers of what a reviewer thought of a book/story in addition or in place of a more in-depth review such as the five star rating system seen on Goodreads and many other websites that offer product reviews). For many, books are a form of entertainment, but when rating entertainment, can a rating system ever be completely accurate? The answer at first glance would appear to be no. Entertainment is subjective and hard to measure or compare. Several issues arise such as rating personal entertainment vs. quality, ratings from reviewer to reviewer, and the evolution of the reviewer.

Take Goodreads, a site for book reviews, giveaways, reading challenges, etc., which operates on a five star rating system. Many of my books in the same star rating aren’t easily comparable. The Old Man and the Sea, Beautiful Creatures, and To Kill A Mockingbird all have the same three star rating (as far as what I rated them), but they are by far very different books that stars can’t indicate. By rating each of these books as three stars, I am by no means saying that Beautiful Creatures is on par with To Kill A Mockingbird. Huhhhh?

I know, I know. Yet, on a shallow, cursory level it might appear as exactly that. The issue becomes what does the rating mean or, to phrase it differently, what exactly are the stars rating? Personal enjoyment? Literary value? Quality of writing? Characters? World-building? Many a time I would want to rate a book lower because I didn’t enjoy it, but I would then feel guilty because nothing is per se “wrong” with the book other than it wasn’t the book for me. Therefore, it is highly likely that I can rate Beautiful Creatures three stars for very different reasons than To Kill A Mockingbird. And I can’t be the only one with this problem right? So, if one reviewer’s ratings can vary from book to book, then it’s pretty possible that the nuance of meanings widen when looking from reviewer to reviewer.

Thus, if one person’s ratings from book to book aren’t always comparable, how can ratings be in any way measured from reviewer to reviewer? Do you consider the three star rating as “Good”, “Eh”, or “Has Some Potential”? That alone could alter dramatically how a reviewer rates their books and how you view their ratings.

If a reviewer only lists a book as three stars on Goodreads (versus also having a more in-depth review), is that a book that you would pick up? Or are fours and fives the only books worth your time? Suddenly, the very reviews we go to to determine our purchases seem so arbitrary, if not ridiculous. Yet despite these flaws, book rating systems are everywhere from Amazon to the blog of yours truly, and many of us still use these reviews to shape our opinions.

The issue becomes compounded further if we consider the evolution of the reader/reviewer. There’s no guarantee that I would rate the books I read in high school the same way. In fact, I know from rereading those books and my reviews of them that many of my views have dramatically changed. College classes I’ve taken have changed how I view science fiction and nonfiction, and there are millions of little experiences between my high school years and now that have changed how I view certain types of characters and circumstances. And while I don’t think anyone would doubt that, I believe we all experience even more subtle changes throughout the year: reading ruts, preferences, mood changes, and so on. Perhaps the book we didn’t like a couple months ago was because we weren’t in the mood for that type of book? Or we would have liked that book if we had had a friend recommend that we read past the first 100 pages of backstory? Or perhaps we didn’t quite understand that character or situation at the time? Who knows. Reading is far more complex and subtle than what we sometimes give it credit for which makes the art of reviewing so much harder.

I have found this out first hand with this blog. When I first made my rating system, it seemed clever, funny, and appropriate for me and the platform. However, as I began to use it, I found out more and more that instead of it being my tool I was becoming its slave. I used the American grading system to grade 6 components that I thought were needed in a successful story to average an overall grade. Over time I found that my feelings for how much I enjoyed a book tended to conflict with how I would rate the quality. I might want to rate the components (like world-building, characters, plot, etc.) B’s, but didn’t agree with the overall grade it would lead to (B=Must Read). Thus, the component grades and the overall grades always seemed to struggle for control. To think that I thought that this rating system would be more accurate and understandable than the simplified five star rating system seen on Goodreads!

Then why is it that so many people on Goodreads alone still rate their books? Does it serve as a public, online reminder of why we liked or disliked a book? Do we have an instinctive need to measure and rate our experiences and compare? Perhaps, both but I think there’s something more to it. Sometimes reviews can be experiences within themselves. Some of my favorite reviewers on Goodreads have amazing wit and snark with a critical eye. I might not always use their reviews as a gauge on what to read but as entertainment in and of itself. Other reviewers I read because they are detailed and balanced with a similar interest to my own. These are the reviews I look to for my to-read list not because they are universally accurate but because they are in line with my own interests. In a way, I end up feeling closer to the reviewer for their personal touch and the overlapping interests we share and thus the reviews begin to feel more like friendly advice than a dictation on good or bad literature.

Ratings might be flawed, but I don’t foresee it going away any time soon. When done well, it can be informative as well as fun. It gives us insight into each other interests, serves as entertainment, and can hopefully help us pick a good book. There are millions upon millions of books and more reviews than we can ever read. Whether its a star rating from Goodreads or my flawed grading system, hopefully ratings will save people from some really bad books and direct them toward the good ones.

So how do you guys feel about ratings and reviews? How do you feel about the five star rating system? Also, if you have time, please look at the rating system below and let me know if you would like it better than the one I currently have. If you guys agree that this one is better, I’ll be doing away with the grades and the components and instead try to go more in-depth in my reviews. My goal with this rating system is to be more in line with how I view the book as far as enjoyment without degrading the ones that just weren’t my cup of tea.

Rating System:

Rereadable

Totally Readable

Readable

Barely Readable

Unreadable

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett Review

Fiction

413 pages

According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world's only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner.

So the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan. Except a somewhat fussy angel and a fast-living demon—both of whom have lived amongst Earth's mortals since The Beginning and have grown rather fond of the lifestyle—are not actually looking forward to the coming Rapture.

And someone seems to have misplaced the Antichrist . . .

Completion: B+
Writing/Style: D-
Characters: C-
Plot/Pacing: D-
World-building/Atmosphere: D-
Sub-genres (Romance, Humor, Mystery, etc.): F

Final Grade: D- At Your Own Risk

This book bummed me out so much. I wanted to like it so much, but instead it was a chore to read. Between the ridiculous quirkiness and constantly changing point of view, there was no tension in the plot or emotional investment in the characters. Even though things do happen in the book, the pace just feels like it always meanders on detours to try to be funny or quirky. Some of the characters had potential, but they never become anything more than quirky, shallow stereotypes. Since there was such a drive for everyone and everything to be quirky, no one seemed to react naturally or believably which really reduced the possible tension to next to nothing. It just felt as if this book was built on some great philosophical ideas that never grew into an organic story and was trying to mask it with humor that’s just not my cup of tea. In fact, this book was written as if it was the funniest thing in the world, and every line was a big joke. Instead, I just felt left out of the joke. I laughed only once and it took to page 83 (the hellhound naming scene, for those who have read the book) for even that. I had always heard that Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett were gods of writing, but I was very disappointed in this book. Sad to say, but I wouldn't have even finished it if I didn’t have this book blog to think about. However, I think what disappoints me the most is the glimmers of a good book (or at least some good lines and ideas) that popped up every now and again. One line toward the end brings up the idea that the conflict of the world is less like chess and more like God playing Solitaire which I thought was brilliant. And the ending held some strong lines and imagery that created a surge of nostalgia which was equally surprising as it was refreshing since most of the book left me dead and dull. This is the second book of Gaiman's I've read so I'm starting to come to the conclusion his books just might not be for me. Le sigh...on to the next book.

The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway Review

Fiction

132 pages

Here, for a change, is a fish tale that actually does honor to the author. The Old Man & the Sea revived Hemingway's career, which was foundering under the weight of such postwar stinkers as Across the River & into the Trees. It also led directly to his receipt of the 1954 Nobel Prize--an award he gladly accepted, despite his earlier observation that "no son of a bitch that ever won the Nobel Prize ever wrote anything worth reading afterwards". A half century later, it's still easy to see why. This tale of an aged Cuban fisherman going head-to-head with a magnificent marlin encapsulates Hemingway's favorite motifs of physical & moral challenge. The Old Man & the Sea was, in any case, the last great catch of Hemingway's career.

Completion: A+
Writing/Style: B
Characters: B+
Plot/Pacing: B-
World-building/Atmosphere: B
Sub-genres (Romance, Humor, Mystery, etc.): N/A

Final Grade: B+ Must Read

This novel was a happy surprise since most of my friends have told me how much they hate Hemingway, and I have had very little exposure to his work. However, even though I ended up enjoying it much more than I expected, I still find that it, along with some other books I have read recently, this book has made me acknowledge the flaws in my rating system and perhaps the flaw of any rating system.

 For a story that comprises mostly of one character alone for a long stretch of time doing only one thing, The Old Man and The Sea was a compelling read. It takes a great talent to make one character by himself interesting and dynamic and to have to a writing style that constantly drives his journey forward without losing steam. Of course, there is no need for me to overly praise Hemingway’s skill for there would be a line of people behind me ready to prove me wrong if I had said otherwise.

However, I wouldn’t say that the final grade isn’t completely accurate. I thought the story was good (don’t get me wrong!), but is it really worthy of a Must Read? I found this book a mild enjoyment that convinced me to follow through to the end, but ended with a reasonable but not particularly satisfying ending. I think if you are interested or curious in classics it wouldn’t be a bad one to check out, but I can’t honestly say that you must read it.

Yet, I found myself in the dilemma that I couldn’t bring the final grade down without making it appear that one of the six subcategories was lesser than what I thought it was. How am I to balance these two issues? I’m not quite sure yet. Perhaps, I will redo my rating system. Perhaps, not. In the near future, I might write a Topics post on the accuracy of rating systems. But for now, just know that The Old Man and The Sea didn’t blow me out of the water but did succeed in pushing me to its ending and to trying out more Hemingway books.