Review: The Virgin Suicides (Jeffrey Eugenides)

I read this book years and years ago because I had a huge crush on the person who suggested I should read it.

I believe I still have his copy of the book and this weekend I re-read it because I really love it.

"None of us went to church, so we had a lot of time to watch them, the two
parents leached of color, like photographic negatives, and then the five
glittering daughters in their homemade dresses, all lace and rufffle, bursting
with their fructifying flesh."

I'm shite at writing reviews about anything I like (generally I'd really much prefer to tear them to shreds) but something about the language of the book really gets to me. Sure, it can be a little bit Stand by Me with the whole 'looking back at childhood' thing but it's one of those books that really straddles the gap between being a super simplistic story about highschool crushes and a house full of hot minxes and a look at a complex and sad little world.

"He tasted first the grease of her Chap Stick, then the sad Brussels-sprout
flavor of her last meal, and past that the dust of lost afternoons and the
salt of tear ducts. The peach schnapps faded away as he sampled the juices
of her inner organs, all slightly acidic with woe. "

I don't want to get all Michael Perrot and just rehash the storyline but I do really enjoy the fact that, as the book progresses, it's more and more obvious that the story's not really about the girls (the titular virgin suicides, though that's a total misnomer) but about the narrator and the other guys and the way they have been disappointed with life.

Incidently I think the movie did a fairly good job of translating some of the book onto screen but it certainly missed a lot of the poeticism of the writing and is, in my opinion anyway, it doesn't stand up that well alongside the book, although the soundtrack rocked.

"It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but
only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do
not hear us, up here in the tree house, with our thinning hair and soft
bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all
time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never
find the pieces to put them back together."

Highly recommended (and in my bookcase).

We Need To Talk About Kevin (Shriver): nature vs nurture

"Dear Franklin,
I'm unsure why one trifling incident this afternoon has moved me to write to you. But since we've been separated, I may most miss coming home to deliver the narrative curiosities of my day, the way a cat might lay mice at your feet: the small, humble offerings that couples proffer after foraging in separate backyards."

To sum this book up - heartbreaking and terrifying.

Shriver is a clever writer, her style is relatively simple but is so vivid and cleverly constructed. Every now and again she'll throw in a phrase or sentence that makes you stop and want to shake her hand. I was hooked from that opening sentence above.

The the novel, for those who haven't read it, is written as a collection of letters to her husband. It's a great technique that makes you think about all the times you've stopped yourself during an extreme moment and thought 'how would I tell this story later?'. It also allows her to dose the whole book in a sense of impending doom fitting for the subject matter. Which is dire. The main character Eva's son Kevin is imprisoned for shooting dead nine classmates. She lives with the notion that she always thought there was something wrong with the boy, but what do you do when it's your son? This is the nature vs nurture argument writ large. Rest assured you'll need a big hug and a stiff drink when you've finished reading this one.

About halfway through I'm afraid I started to lose interest, describing it to my boyfriend as like The Omen, if Damien's so bad and no-one believes her why doesn't she just leave?
But all of that dropped away for the last quarter. Although the story makes no bones about the tragedy in its opening pages, she manages to not let the reader just grow complacent, she keeps reminding them about the consequences, the innocence of the people that were maimed and killed. She saves some terrible surprises for the end. But Eva's narration becomes increasingly unreliable, she remains adamant on things she had done, for which there is no proof. She leaves out parts of the tale until the very end, flooring you when she finally reveals them. And, despite all claims otherwise, she still loves her son.

What stuck me as interesting is after she has finished her story she acknowledges that Kevin was, indeed, still her son. In among the nature/nurture arguments Kevin, who seems irreparably broken earlier in the novel, starts to make sense to his mother. Somehow the experience or the passing two years has brought them closer together, although he was the perpetrator. How she could find time for him when he took so much from her I just couldn't understand. But I suppose she understood him more than anyone, as a child there was nothing he would miss if it was gone. In prison he discovered the importance of his mother. It breaks your heart that Kevin had so much growing up to do when he killed those people and had he just started a MySpace page instead he could have turned into an alright person. He starts repeating his mother's words he mocked as a younger boy. She keeps his bed made, just in case.

It makes the quote on the opening page ring true:

"A child needs your love most when he deserves it least"

To Fold or Not to Fold?

That is, indeed, the question. According to Anne Fadiman, author of Ex-Libris - Confessions of a Common Reader (which you will all love but I no longer have a copy...), there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who fold pages and those who do not.

Some see folding the corners as the indelible mark of enjoying and loving a book, while others think it is pure sacrilige. Thoughts?

Reviews

I think we should be making a concerted effort to write up reviews of the tripe/treasure we're reading at any given time and blog them here. I've considered cross-posting my Maurice review from my other blog (just for the record really, as it was an early CNGLL success) but thought there was probably no point. Anyway, food for thought.

Oh god, must I? Books we couldn't be bothered with

Since the 100 books seem to have stalled let's keep that on hold and think about something else.
What are the books you had to read for whatever reason and could not, come hell or high water, get more than a chapter or two in?

To kick us off I'm touting that old favourite:
1. The Da Vinci Code - My only wish for Dan Brown is for a violent accident to befall him. His smugness on Oprah saying it was a work of fiction based in fact while he's licking his lips thinking of his bank account will never cease to irritate me. Die!

2. Ulysses - I actually feel a great deal of shame at this one - I like Joyce, I was in love with modernism. I got about halfway through and in my confusion about what was going on, I admitted defeat.

3. Trainspotting - Irvine Welsh: what were you thinking? And as if one wasn't enough he wrote a whole series of them.

Over to you.

100 Books You Must Read Before You Die

Picking up on what Lindsay wrote below... what are the 100 books we must read before we die?

The rules are strict here. They must be novels. No plays, short stories, poems or movement instructions for interpretive dances written in binary code. All works must be fictional. Novellas qualify.

I'll kick things off with obvious classics (and two of my favourites):
1. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. Vanity Fair, WM Thackerary

(And I realise all Dickens' works were originally serialised in newspapers, but surely this doesn't discount them as novels?)

What with classical literature, modern literature and absolute tat to chose from, this should be an interesting exercise - perhaps with lively debate chucked in for free.

Over to you good people... what 100 books must we read before we die?

What's your most overrated book of all time?

Just out of interest. You know what I mean: everyone loves it, or it's a classic and you think you will love it but it turns out to be pants...

Bibliophiles Unite

I love this blog. I love love love it. I am currently immersing myself in Howard's End (lordy, that sounds a bit risque for a library blog, doesn't it?) and I now have the enthusiasm to go forth and actually read the 100 books on my "100 books I must read before I die" list. And you clever chaps are going to help me. Page-smackingly good this idea is, Dan. I salute you.

how cheap is too cheap?

After reading a certain blog of note and knowing we are in one of the most poorly paid professions I feel I need to run a question by you all. But I've been too ashamed to ever ask anyone else so you have to promise not to judge me.

The question du jour is: is it unforgivably cheap to give a person a second hand book as a gift? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not asking is it ok to go through the bargain bin on the street outside Elizabeth's and buy the most dog eared Dan Brown tripe just because you want to save a quid. I mean what if you're someone like me, who only shops at second hand bookshops because you believe reading is a pleasure that should be both shared and affordable. What if on one of these shopping expeditions you happen across a book (a hardcover book, a nice one) that your mother would just love. What if mothers' day happens to be coming up and after paying your car rego you have to face the fact that there ain't going to be a new dress for you for the ballet. Is it still just too cheap to contemplate? Should I feel as dirty and ashamed as I suspect I should?

The look of the thing

Anyone who wants to make this thing look less fucked, feel free. You should all have access to the template and settings.
If not, email me and I'll tell you the password to log in as cnglendinglibrary.
Dan

On the net the journos come and go...

So here we are dears. I little site of our very own to discuss things literary, keep track of who is reading what, what they think of it, and who they borrowed it from.
I have been thoroughly enjoying this reciprocal exchange arrangement. It has already given me hours of pleasure experiencing Forster's Maurice and soon I hope to rejoice in Joseph Heller's Catch 22.
This was a great idea. Hopefully there will be some point to this blog, which we can all contribute to at any time by direct post or leaving comments.
New parties are welcome to join at any time.

Book Suggestions

Great idea for the blog. To kick things off I'm looking for a new book. I want something awesome. Suggestions?