“Laurie Sanders sat in the publications office at Gordon High School chewing on the end of a Bic pen. She was a pretty girl with short light-brown hai“Laurie Sanders sat in the publications office at Gordon High School chewing on the end of a Bic pen. She was a pretty girl with short light-brown hair and an almost perpetual smile that only disappeared when she was upset or chewing on Bic pens. Lately she’d been chewing on a lot of pens. In fact, there wasn’t a single pen or pencil in her pocketbook that wasn’t worn down on the butt end from nervous gnawing. Still, it beat smoking. “
Thus begins The Wave.
Can we break apart that paragraph, please?
'Laurie Sanders (seriously WASPY name there) sat in the publications office at Gordon High School (seriously WASPY school there) chewing on the end of a Bic (isn’t this a trademark or a registered item or something??) pen.'
'She was a pretty girl (thanks, we needed that knowledge) with short light-brown hair and an almost perpetual (BIG word ) smile that only disappeared when she was upset or chewing on Bic pens.' (-------) Here is the 1981 Made- for –TV- movie version of Laurie
'Lately she’d been chewing on a lot of pens.' (!!!!!!!!)
'In fact, there wasn’t a single pen or pencil in her pocketbook (I always hated pocketbooks) that wasn’t worn down on the butt end from nervous gnawing' (ALLITERATION!!)
'Still, it beat smoking.' (what a minute, what? Laurie Sanders of Gordon High School fucking smokes????)
Oh dear Lord, this was excruciatingly exasperating. (GOTCHA)
This is supposed based on a ‘real event’ that happened in Palo Alto, California at Cubberley High School back in April of 1967 conducted by a History teacher named Ron Jones (porn name):
“Jones, unable to explain to his students how the German population could claim ignorance of the extermination of the Jewish people, decided to show them instead. Jones started a movement called "The Third Wave" and told his students that the movement aimed to eliminate democracy. The idea that democracy emphasizes individuality was considered as a drawback of democracy, and Jones emphasized this main point of the movement in its motto: "Strength through discipline, strength through community, strength through action, strength through pride."
So, this book is a novelization of a teleplay of an actual event. And the writer, Todd Strasser, used the pen name Morton Rhue.(Really? Morton Rhue?) Christ… this shit is fucked up. So… what do YOU think happens? Well, here’s the spoiler. They all become little Nazis. Seriously. Well, not all but like 98% of them do and the ones that don’t are threatened. ‘The Wave’ is supposed to make the football team win big against Clarkstown. ‘The Wave’ takes the class reject/future sociopath and makes him an organized, welcomed sociopath. ‘The Wave’ makes Amy Smith (a petite girl with thick, curly, Goldilocks hair) not feel like she always needs to compete against her BFF, Laurie with boys and grades and stuff. It’s like when phen-phen hit the market.. It’s a true blue miracle! And how long do you think it took to stick? C’mon… guess… a month? Two? Try five days.
Five.Days. An entire school was ready to give up all personal freedom and individuality for this ‘Wave’—which was nothing more than the motto, membership cards, and a salute, mind you—in a work week.
Yes. Yes.. I, too, see Generation Y or Generation Z… the one that got awards for every fucking little thing that they attempted… completely falling under this spell. But, seriously? I KNOW that my generation is way too cynical for such crap. We wouldn’t have even bothered to attend the stupid pep rally announcing The Wave. We’re hiding in the darkroom playing Joy Division.
This novella/teleplay/what have you sucks. It sucks donkey balls. The writing falls between a bad Hardy Boys story and a good Sweet Valley High. If I had to read another lines like: “Copies of the Grapevine had never been scooped up faster than they were that day. The school was abuzz with the news.” I was going to start my own genocidal Nazi Party. (Please do not go all PC on me right now, ok?)
There are many reasons why I wouldn’t like this book:
1. I hate feeling dumb.
2. It’s set in Ancient Israel, 70 C.E. to be exact, and the fact that I haThere are many reasons why I wouldn’t like this book:
1. I hate feeling dumb.
2. It’s set in Ancient Israel, 70 C.E. to be exact, and the fact that I had to ask what C.E. meant --being a child of B.C and A.D --did not go over well (Refer to #1)
3. It’s set in Ancient Israel and I, shamefully, have absolutely no clue what happened back then. I mean… besides the Last Temptation of Christ and bible stories that I kind of sort of remember. (#1)
4. The author also wrote Practical Magic, which I have not read but I have seen the movie and besides it being pretty damn awful, I got a serious complex having to look at Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock slink around in little black dresses. AND she’s also a favorite of Oprah which causes controversy on its own level that I don’t care to go into but still am squeamish about…
5. Hype. Wasn’t it one of the books nominated for a GR Book of the Year?
6. It’s a book that one of my co-workers would look at and say ‘Oh, I’ve read that!’ (a definite sign to stay away)
7.It’s set in Masada… and I don’t know about you, but I had no idea what Masada was. Maybe it’s my Titanic, I don’t know. But, going off of #1, I didn’t like it when I mentioned this to a friend and he said ‘Oh, when (view spoiler)[all the Jews killed themselves and their families rather than be captured by the Romans, what a massacre!! (hide spoiler)] and I was only about 200 pages into it and had already started to care for some of the characters and well, HATE IT when surprises are ruined. (run-on sentence, whatever…)and.. well (#1)
So, yes, there were many challenges to face reading this book. I’m not even sure why it was on my To-Read list… it’s not like any of you suggested it to me. Or, I think I might have run across this ditty at some point because I had a déjà vu type moment when I read it:
“For those who say that the Witch of Moab never loved anyone, that she was selfish, concerned with her own fate alone, I can only say that she was ruined by love and delivered by it and that she left something glorious to the word, a child who loves to stand in the rain.”
Okay, yes, you’ve written it off as a chick lit book. I get it. I would too based on that.. which is, by the way, on the last page of the novel and couldn’t have ruined my opinion of the story no how.
This book is elegant. That’s probably the highest praise that I can bestow right now. I crave to be elegant. I am clumsy and messy and blabber and start sentences with ‘and’ and disregard all my 7th grade English teacher, Mrs. Van Houten, taught me about punctuation.
The story is based on actual events, you can even see some of the items mentioned in it at museums and such. But, what Hoffman has done has created characters around this story. The lives of four Dovekeepers and the people who surround them. She presents them to you in such a way that you actually feel like you were handling doves (that is, if you liked them… and c’mon… too many weddings show that the cliché is true.) The women are capable and graceful and intelligent. They have a quiet strength and live with many ghosts. They have all come to Masada for different reasons and fate leads them to one another and we hear each of their stories in their own voice. The Assassin’s Daughter. The Baker’s Wife. The Warrior’s Beloved. The Witch of Moab.
Hoffman’s writing style was simple, short sentences. Statements, rather. But, beautifully written, so much so that I would find myself going back to the pages that I marked off to re-read passages. So much said in so little fashion. “I took my hand from his. He looked like ice, but ice is known to burn.” Or “ When the wind is so strong that we women know we will choke on the rising dust if we fail to tie our scarves across our faces, boys will always ignore the elements and race through storm clouds, dreaming of glory.”
The first page of the book, before the map even, has this written on it:
“Let my burden be your burden, and yours be mine.”
Much better than that crap people recite from that wedding song. Life is hard. People die and people suffer and the most honorable thing you can do is help carry the weight. ...more
Here. Right here is why I will always love books and never fully give in to those e-reader thingies.
Touch this book. Go ahead. Open it up, crack the bHere. Right here is why I will always love books and never fully give in to those e-reader thingies.
Touch this book. Go ahead. Open it up, crack the binding a little, and stroke a page. Oh Yeah. Smooth, right? Not a gloss really but there is a coating to it. Definitely not a matte. Could be a creamwove or even copier paper. Rub your thumb up and down a page. Uh huh... you got it.
That---and the photos. I've always derived a perverse pleasure in carnie folk and all things carnie. (Remember, I'm that rubber-necker type.) Well, stick some outlandish ancient photographs in front of me and watch me get my freak on. It's like a delusional 20yr old and Bieber-fever. Maybe this is Rigg's schtick. Seems that everyone has one these days. I'm not complaining, they had me at the paper, remember? These photographs that the narrative revolves around are creepy fun. Little boys dressed up in Gacy clown costumes feeding each other ribbon? Sad little boy in bunny suit sitting on a walkway? Gothy Girl, Tim Burton fan carrying a chicken? I am so there.
And the story ain't bad neither.
Jacob loves his grandfather and his grandfather's stories about "life in the Welsh Childrens home. It was an enchanted place, he said, designed to keep kids safe from the monsters, on an island where the sun shined every day and nobody ever got sick or dies. Everyone lived together in a big house that was protected by a wise old bird--or so the story went."
Hello?? Sign me up! He talks of levitating girls and invisible boys, children with mouths on the back of their head and girls who create fire with her hand. All living happily tucked away from the monsters.
Until one of the monsters kills his grandfather. Jacob, of course, is the only witness to this and bears his beloved granddad's last words:
"There's no time," he whispered. Then he raised his head off the ground, trembling with the effort, and breathed into my ear: 'Find the bird. In the loop. On the other side of the old man's grave. September third, 1940.' I nodded but he could see that I didn't understand. With his last bit of strength, he added, "Emerson--the letter. Them them what happened, Yakob."
Now this--THIS is what I was hoping The Forgetting Room would be like. This is the creepiness that I wanted from The Night Strangers. THANK YOU.
Jacob convinces his parents and his shrink (you don't think a kid like this needs a shrink?)that he must go to the island, to deal with his grandfather's death. He finds the house, ruined, and learns that on September 3, 1940 a bomb fell on it and killed everyone. Everyone but one boy who went off to fight the monsters.
Jacob's journey is far from over, but I will leave you to find out. If I had known (which is really REALLY surprising since it was a NY Times Bestseller this year) I wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much. And we all need joy, right? ...more
Why is it that every book I read lately is, at best, a 3 star? It’s like I’m trapped in a Cosmic Latte sitting room and my only form of entertainment Why is it that every book I read lately is, at best, a 3 star? It’s like I’m trapped in a Cosmic Latte sitting room and my only form of entertainment is deciphering vanity plates. Seriously. I need to be roused! Vivified! Medicated! Perked! I need… pizzazz (That's right, I said it.)
Chris Bohjalian is to Vermont what Jodi Picoult is to New Hampshire. What Robert James Waller is to Iowa and so forth. I mean, look at the man…
[image]
Exactly.
I’ve read a few of his books… Midwives and The Double Bind --- they weren’t bad… I actually enjoyed the Gatsby thingamajig he does within The Double Bind… but I’m not all ‘Oh no, let’s go crazy!’ over him. But, I was listening to VPR and they were talking about his newest book and how it was a mysteryish, ghostish kinda story so I said, what the hell… I even liked the first line description… “In a dusty corner of a basement in a rambling Victorian house in northern New Hampshire, a door has long been sealed shut with 39 six-inch-long carriage bolts.”
First of all, it’s set in NH. I kind of felt ripped off, you know? I mean… he’s OURS. Let Jodi write about NH. No fair. Then I learn that the point of convergence that spurns the story actually happens on Lake Champlain (an airbus tries to pull a Sullenberger-on-the-Hudson type move but tragedy ensues…) so I’m thinking… okay… at least we got that.
So, as I said.. the main character is this pilot who crashes his plane into Lake Champlain, killing 39 people. He has survivor’s guilt, he’s obsessed with that Sully Sullenberger dude, he’s plain miserable… so, the family decides to move from Pennsylvania to New Hampshire (????) and worse… 'Bethel', New Hampshire. That’s like not even in existence! Keep it real, Christopher!!! There are enough scary remote NH towns; you don’t need to fictionalize one! Okay, whatever… So, there are these ‘herbalists’ (female, of course) that live in ‘Bethel’ and they all have… get this… plant names. Names like Reseda, Sage, Tansy, Anise, Verbana (Christ… enough already). Well, these ‘herbalists’ are taking a special interest in the pilot’s twin daughters (twins… never a good sign, right?) and don’t think that those 39 carriage bolts aren’t connected to the 39 passengers who died… okay? Just don’t go there. From there… much, much, more crap ensues.
Yes, I’m rambling. I’m rambling because I’m disappointed. I wanted a good ‘scare the shit out of me’ book---they’re like my Twilight Porn when I’m not reading Twilight Porn, okay? And what I got was a bunch of stupid plant women who want to Ponce De Leon up their lives. Why? You live in rural, northern, NH? What’s the point? It’s fucking New Hampshire. ...more
The secret word of the day is FUN... no, let’s make it HYPE. Room.. Room... Room… I saw the crayoned word here, there, and everywhere. New York Times’The secret word of the day is FUN... no, let’s make it HYPE. Room.. Room... Room… I saw the crayoned word here, there, and everywhere. New York Times’ and Library Journal named it one of the best books of 2010, it has its own website! (where I found out it was named best book of 2010 among many other honors and dead links).
Fine, I knew what I was getting into… any book that Marie Claire calls “[A] whammy of a novel…” has me questioning the meaning of life and other stuff. But, so does macaroni and cheese loaf, so…
It’s not that it’s a bad book. Of course, I went into the novel having no real idea of what the story was about. I never do, book jackets are not meant for reading, reviews wait until I’ve already fashioned an opinion. It took me about 60 pages to realize that this wasn’t a Glass Castle ish book and that this was one of those select few books. Select few meaning who has really experienced this? Can we truly relate to the plot? I mean, outside of Jaycee Dugard and that woman in Switzerland who can nod and say ‘holy shit! they’ve nailed it!! Right On!’ and I know that novels are meant to present us with the whole fictional thing and all that-- but usually I like to relate to the characters or the situation but holy hell… not here.
Sure, the narrative is really exasperating, but you get used to it. Jack is five and lives in the ‘ROOM’ and everything is named after what it is. Table is named ‘Table’, Roof is named ‘Roof’, Tub is named ‘Tub’—alright, alright already. Usually I’m on board with the gimmicks, but this one didn’t really strike like Oskar’s ‘heavy boots’ or ‘one hundred dollars’ did. To each her own.
The plot, quite frankly, terrifies me. It makes me want to never ever let my children leave the house and STILL forward them all those emails about scams involving elderly people with sick animals in mall parking lots.
I did enjoy the ‘After’ section. We never think about ‘After’ in these sensationalism stories. People magazine might do a retrospective on how the cellist Mormon beauty is doing five years down the line, but really… what about day to day? What if you never knew that outside was real? I can’t go there… where’s my Xanax…. ...more
Ohkaaaaaaayyyyy... Now I get it. Carrie D'Amour, if you're out there, I apologize for mocking your Sandman fascination back in 1989. And for that hairOhkaaaaaaayyyyy... Now I get it. Carrie D'Amour, if you're out there, I apologize for mocking your Sandman fascination back in 1989. And for that haircut....more
I have a confession. I… um… don’t know how to read comic books. There. I said it. Let the heckling begin. In my defense, I am a girl. Ok, no. I mean, I have a confession. I… um… don’t know how to read comic books. There. I said it. Let the heckling begin. In my defense, I am a girl. Ok, no. I mean, it’s not like the mid 1970s really gave us any good comics. Uhh… Okay, I don’t know. I have no excuse. It’s never been my thing. I remember trying to read some Archie ones and some Wendy Witch ones.. meh. Plus, I um... always screwed up the reading order.
So, last night I sat down across from my sixteen year old. She had the manners to at least glance up at me during My Little Pony (the NEW version… I must specify that) and give me a look like ‘Wait.’ I did---until a commercial, when she proceeded to dramatically roll her head in my direction.
“What?” “Um.. I need your help.” “I’m not doing the dishes. It’s Marley’s turn.” “No, not that. I um… got this from the library…” “Sandman. Cool. Nice graphics.” “Yeah, yeah… cool. Um… how do I read it?” “What?” “I mean… what’s the order? Do I read the balloons that are above the other balloons? Do I read down or across? Why are some fonts different?” “Seriously?” “Um… Yes.”
After much laughing and calling in ALL the other children, she showed me the correct way to read a comic book. Sorry, graphic novel. I still screwed it up. I jumped all over the place and then had to go back and re-read the pages. I probably didn’t pay enough attention to the pictures because I’m not used to doing that while I read. I didn’t understand who some of the characters were. Especially when they brought in the Justice League peeps. I think I missed some of the nuances. I didn’t understand why Dr. Dee had to (view spoiler)[kill that really nice woman who gave him the coat. (hide spoiler)] I mean…c’mon… you were like gross looking and she helped you out.
The scenes in Hell were interesting, even if I didn’t get the whole battle. It reminded me of a Wonder Twins cartoon where Zan and Jayna are constantly changing forms. Lucifer was kind of hot if you like that fallen angel look. He reminded me of a young Leif Garrett...
The scenes in Arkum were confusing. I am not familiar with those characters outside of the Batman movies. Like the professor who was tricking people into thinking he was a hanging corpse? What was that all about?
I did enjoy the last part of the story where Morpheus meets up with his sister and they’re hanging out in Washington Square Park. I’ve heard that there are other stories where his family play into the plot more. I’m looking forward to those. That whole Robert Smith/Siouxsie look is fun to revisit and I can't wait to meet Delirium.
You may be surprised by this but I never went to Prom. I know, right? I mean, seriously… WTF? And, like everyone said… I regret it. I mean, if I had g You may be surprised by this but I never went to Prom. I know, right? I mean, seriously… WTF? And, like everyone said… I regret it. I mean, if I had gone to Prom then maybe Derek Ducharme would have noticed me in my Micro short version extremely popular Sweet Dreams dress. A gorgeous peau de sois satin gown featuring a breathtaking skirt with gather detailing. A boned bustier, which fits like a glove, forms a charming neckline and proposed to me right away. We would have married after college, he’d be a business major and I’d stay home selling Mary Kay. We’d make beautiful babies that would grow up to be bullies that would spit on the silly goth girls at pep rallies and we’d laugh and laugh and laugh… Ahhh… If only…
Uh huh. And exploding monkeys eating pie will fly out of butt.
Why then… why would I subject myself to a book of short stories all about proms? Because these are some of the best damn writers in young adult right now. A few weeks ago I finished Geektastic and wanted more. MORE! I did falter a bit when I saw the topic. Christ, PROM? Who the fuck cares? Seriously… people treat this like a major life moment. It’s supposed to define you or your entire school self.. this is when you can get back at Troy Smith for letting go of Tyler Ferguson’s hand during Red Rover Red Rover causing you to fall flat on the cement playground knocking out your front top tooth in 2nd grade. This is your moment to shine, buddy. Well, Troy Smith is now gay and his BF is so freaking hot that you end up crying in the bathroom while Twissa-- the cheerleader that’s berated you for the past 6 years is puking in the stall behind you, her Bo Derek braids she and every other slut that went on the senior trip to the Bahamas decided was the cool look clank against the toilet rim. Yeah… good times, good times.
21 Proms is what it is. Kids obsessed with Prom. I wasn’t impressed with most of the plot lines since I could care less about the event, but the writing and the characters…well, I can accept the Under The Sea motifs for a bit. These stories deal with all the teen angst that high school can bring and yet some.. okay most… are endearing. Like the Libba Bray story 'Primate the Prom'…
“Flash told me about this movement. It’s called Primate the Prom. It started in Kansas, after what happened to William Lamb.” William Lamb was a band-boy-cute seventeen-year-old from some small town in Kansas. He had a gorilla boyfriend named Johnny. The two of them tried to make a statement by crashing their prom. A mob of kids in tuxes and prom dresses beat them bloody and tied them to the flagpole. They shaved Johnny of all his fur. And William Lamb ended up with serious brain damage. He won’t date another ape. He won’t date at all.”
Yes, slick and snarky. But, fun all the same. The John Green story about Morps (backward proms… I guess all the kids are doing it) is wonderful, but John Green is wonderful as is Ned Vizzini and Will Leitch and Jacqueline Woodson and all the other writers in this anthology. This quote from ‘Chicken’ by Jodi Lynn Anderson sums it all up:
“ Do you ever feel like you’re living in a circle, instead of a line?” Ben asked. “Like, you never change?” Elsie squinted at him, sleepy. “Like, I’m me now,” he went on, “but I’m also me on this big hike my dad and I took when I was ten, and I’m also me the first day of school freshman year. And I’m me in the future. It’s like one of those wooden dolls. With all those smaller dolls inside.” He blinked up at the sky. “Even when I’m surprised by how things turn out, deep down I’m never surprised, you know? Because it’s all already there, and none of it disappears.”
Prom will always be. Angst is forever. Let them drink cheap punch and lose their virginity (do they still do that on Prom Night?) Some day they will rule the world. ...more
"There was once a young man who wished to gain his Heart's Desire."
So it begins. Fine. Yep. These are the stuff fairy tales are made from-blahblahblah "There was once a young man who wished to gain his Heart's Desire."
So it begins. Fine. Yep. These are the stuff fairy tales are made from-blahblahblah. Sure thing. What else you got?
I really don’t get the point of this novella. I mean, yes, I see that there once was a man who made a journey to capture the uncapturable (a fallen star) for the woman that he loves. Wait. Does he really love her? Do I really care? I spent half the book thinking his name was Tristan not Tristran, so I guess the answer is no. Yes, he thinks she’s a hottie. Yes, he stalks her like a bedazzled Margaret Mary Ray rumbling around in Letterman’s bushes. Christ! He sits in trees and watches her undress. What of it? Where is the love? Has he sat down and had coffee with her? Does he know her favorite book? Whether she likes boxers or briefs? Seriously?
So, he leaves his boring town of Wall to enter Faerie and find this star who is actually a beautiful young woman.(YAWN) He meets colorful filler characters along the way…yadda yadda yadda. But wait, we have another story line going on about some princely brothers who want to take over their kingdom but have to find a topaz that their father threw out the window, towards that SAME fallen star, before he croaked. And wait, there’s ANOTHER story line where 3 old witch hags also want that fallen star because her heart will given them some much needed youth. SEE HOW THEY INTERCONNECT?
Good, because the rest of it is really just a ‘she did this, he did that, they fought, they died, they tricked, he smartens up..’ kind of story. I didn’t really know the characters, I really didn’t care who ended up with who. They all kind of irritated me. The action was pretty dull. What happened to EPIC? Not like ‘dude, that frat party was so epic…’ but like Princess-Bride-Epic or Long-Island-Lolita-Epic… C’mon, Gaiman..bring it on. I know you can do it.. People wouldn’t be so enamored of you if you couldn’t. Right? ...more
In my 20th year, I picked up a copy of Griffin & Sabine - An Extraordinary Correspondence while loitering at the Wordsworth Book Store in Harvard SquaIn my 20th year, I picked up a copy of Griffin & Sabine - An Extraordinary Correspondence while loitering at the Wordsworth Book Store in Harvard Square. I was stone-broke — living on crackers, jello and sno-cones… and this was a great way to spend a weekend. I was also in the Oxytocin throes of new love so I fell. I fell really really hard. It had that voyeuristic concept (like when you are reading letters that high school boyfriends wrote your mom) that gave me chills and the delusional inkling that made Griffin an awesome archetype of dysfunction.
20 years and too many cynical experiences later, I found The Forgetting Room. Was I looking for that rush again? Wordsworth is gone. Maurice is gone. Hell… welcome to crows feet, gray hair and stretch marks. I needed a win.
Ok, I knew… I knew it wasn’t going to be Griffin and Sabine revisited. There are already like six sequels to that story. I saw The Forgetting Room---which is such a great concept in its own. A room for forgetting? A forgotten room? The possibilities. Then there was Spain… land of Don Quixote, Pedro Almodóvar, Plácido Domingo, etc… and lastly.. but not really… the art of Nick Bantock. The wedding invitation, the concertina pages, the collages. I needed the visual reminder of what I loved so much about the Griffin and Sabine books.
Plus, the story sounded intriguing -- Armon has one week to clean out his late grandfather, Rafael’s, house in Rondo, Spain to prepare it for sale. His marriage has failed. He has no passion for his bookbinding business. He is broken by what ifs and roads not taken. Here, he is presented with a past that never had a chance to really play out. There was a time when he idolized his grandfather, taking weekly art lessons and meditating on Rafael’s socialist ruminations. There was a code to live by with Rafael that Armon’s own father couldn’t provide for him-a sense of connection that Armon lost in adulthood. Now, his grandfather gives him a puzzle that will unravel that code for an adult Armon.
Sounds neat, right? I so wish it was. I was hoping that the game would enlighten… that I might solve it before Armon… but, not really. In the end, I felt duped. There was no angelic chorus or warm fuzzies or even light chuckle to be had. The artwork is darn pretty though.
[image]
And the Garcia Lorca (view spoiler)[
I have raised three arches and with a clumsy hand have placed in them the muse, the angel and the duende. Through these empty arches enters a wind of the mind, which blows over the heads of the dead insistently, searching for new landscapes, accents we never knew. (hide spoiler)] quotes were swoon worthy.
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