Llew's Reviews

I’m sure you will be completely shocked to discover that the Manchester, New Hampshire airport does not have a wealth of reading material in their bookshop. However after finding myself stuck for five hours because of flight delays, I was a little desperate myself. It was between The Kite Runner and a Lavryle Spencer slice. I took The Kite Runner and scampered before anyone could rip it from my grubby hands and I was forced into a conversation with the middle-aged man wearing the “I’m Huge In Japan” t-shirt who was sitting beside me.

It focuses on, Amir, a young awkward bookish wealthy(ish) boy in Afghanistan who yearns for the affection of his athletic socially celebrated single father and who mistreats his loyal heartbreakingly sincere best friend who Amir can never consider a friend due to social classes and standing. Eventually, he drives the best friend away through an act of childhood cowardness and moves to America with his father before the Russians descend upon his country. When he returns, after Russia has been replaced with the evil Taliban, he finds not only his childhood home but all of the main characters from his childhood destroyed.

Basically, it’s a middle eastern male soap opera that tugs at your heart strings like nothing else. All it’s missing is Susan Lucci in a burka shaking her fist at a closed door saying, “You will be mine, Amir! You will be mine!”

Although I have all of Mitchell’s other books on my night side table waiting to topple over and smother me in my sleep, this is the first one of his I’ve actually read. Black Swan Green is a coming of age story of a boy in England at the tail end of the Cold War. It was good, but didn’t blow me away.

Are his others better? I’ll get to them soon – I have to. No telling when they’ll attack, and I have found that I’m quite attached to my ribs.

Not as recommendable as her “The Birth Of Venus”, but the main character is a dwarf who is a pimp.

How can you even touch that?

I stayed home sick yesterday, and when I realized I was having a moment of not being nauseated I moved into action. I stockpiled everything I thought I might need on the coffee table in front of the couch, popped a movie in the dvd player and had it all set up so I’d just have to push a button on the remote control. Then, I got my ipod close, settled my laptop in, and then very quickly selected a handful of books in case I could read.

The funny thing about my book collection (and it is a rather healthy collection) is that I have more books that I haven’t read than I have. Not because I don’t read much that I want to, but because after I finish a book it is rare that I want to keep it. Don’t get me wrong. I will read a book, and then hunt it down in hardback to purchase while giving away the paperback. However, that’s only when I really love a title so most of the books I read get sent on. This unbalance might also have to do with the facts that I rarely reread books, and that my father always taught me that you should have books which you’ve never read around, and I took him very seriously.

“Never Let Me Go” happened to be at the top of the stack of my stockpile. I had tried to start it during Christmas, but to be honest I’m so busy and distracted during that time of the year that I usually can’t even finish the jokes on the inside a gum wrapper much less a novel. Thus, I didn’t give much weight to the fact I had already tried and failed. Plus, I figured this would be only a half-hearted try since the night before, when I started to get ill, I couldn’t stand to read anything because of feeling so poorly.

However, I picked it up again, and was immediately sucked in. That might have to do with the fact that it starts off taking place in a boarding school. I’m such a sucker for books with school as the setting, and I’m not sure why. I do know, however, that it is the reason for my slight obsession for teen books that weren’t meant to be read by teens. This one definitely has a much different angle than most school books, and is no where close to being a YA title. There’s this whole dsytopian situation abound. (Although, I won’t go into the plot. I rarely do on this site, and I’m not sure why. It could be likely because I think that would sound like a book report. However, it’s most likely because I don’t like knowing too much about the plot myself before reading a book. It always seems to ruin it for me. Even the incredibly short Booksense blurb I read about this novel before reading it, altered how I felt about it while taking it in.)

Suffice it to say, it’s the best book I’ve read so far this year, but that didn’t keep it from making me unbelievably sad at the end. Of course, that could have just been the fact that I had to go to work the next day. Either way, it’s definitely a thoughtful, well written, not entirely happy but worthwhile still experience. Plus, I’m always excited to discover a current author who I really like – even if everyone has read something by him except for me.

I wondered why my dad had thrown away an advanced reader’s copy of this civil war novel. That was until I read it. Talk about being The Meh.

It will take me longer to upload the picture on dial-up than it did for me to read this entire book. Such a slim little book which I should have read ages ago, but for some reason always overlooked it.

So so sad that it seems that words are but trivialities when it comes to talking about it.

I’ve tried to read Didion’s non-fiction before, and gave up before I smothered myself with the dust jacket. Man, it’s boring. However, since her latest chronicle about dealing with her husband’s sudden death while her only child was in a coma in a hopsital was receiving such accolades I decided to try it again.

I hate to kick an author when she’s down, but I still don’t see what everyone is raving about. It was basically a recounting of things that would only interest me if it had been my own mother or someone else I was close to. Otherwise, it just seemed like I was reading someone’s diary when I shouldn’t. I felt like I was invading her privacy, and listening to thoughts and feelings that weren’t universally relateable. Or maybe they’re just not to me since I’ve never lost a husband of twenty years. Either way – Meh.

The next book I was going to read was Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s “Memories of My Melancholy Whores.” Wouldn’t that be a menage a trois of depression? Fortunately, my order for that hasn’t come in yet so I will have to venture into, hopefully, happier territory.

Me: Are you looking at porn?
Katy: Yeah, Laura, I’m looking at naked pictures of Robert E. Lee
Me: Well, his horse was named Traveler.

The above is why I should never be allowed to write a novel on the Civil War. Thankfully, Mr. Hicks has more restraint than I do.

I didn’t realize until I had almost finished that it is based on a true story, or rather a real person. Carrie McGavock who lived in the almost minute Franklin, Tennessee where what many consider to be the bloodiest five hours of the Civil War were spent in an awful battle. Not only did she allow her house to be turned into a hospital where she tended to the injured, but after the battle she negotiated a created a resting place for approximately 1,500 dead soldiers. Hicks created this wonderful story around McGavock which translated into an enjoyable read even for a girl who isn’t entirely fond of the Civil War fiction genre. No matter how many generals had horses with frisky names.

You got a love a thriller that is so paranoid that the author won’t even let you know who he is.

“This is also the tale of another remarkable vision–not a corporeal vision of God but the vision of life as a wondrously strange creation. It tells how wisdom was forged in Ames’s soul during his solitary life, and how history lives through generations, pervasively present even when betrayed and forgotten.
“Gilead is the long-hoped-for second novel by one of our finest writers, a hymn of praise and lamentation to the God-haunted existence that Reverend Ames loves passionately, and from which he will soon part.”

The above is the reason why I will never be a book reviewer. Because the only thing I can think of to say about this book is, “It was pretty good. I think I’ll give it to some people for Christmas.”