What intellectually stimulating literary masterpiece have I been so involved in, you may ask, that I haven't blogged in such a long time. At which I must look sheepish and look at the floor and mutter under my breath and hope that you don't quite catch that.
Because an alarming number of my evenings have been spent with... E harlequin.... Yes, free romance novels have become my staple pastime. In my defence, at least they're free.
Sadly, poorly written formulaic romance novels have ruined me for good literature. I read a book of short stories by Evelyn Waugh , and was utterly bored throughout. Though I have to wonder, did he create the stereotype of British boys' boarding schools or merely perpetuate it? Or were boarding schools really like that? Anyway (edited when not half asleep), the reason I didn't like this so much, was that the snark and the witty repartee weren't really going anywhere. It made me smile but not laugh, or feel a faint sadness, but not grief. They were all clever stories- not clever plots, but interesting insights into the characters of people. But in the end it felt vaguely without purpose.
Then I plodded though "The Devil Wears Prada" . Yes, plodded. The movie was breezy and fun. The book was whiny and annoying. At no point, do I get the impression that the main character is not a self absorbed, entitled, sanctimonious, holier-than-thou brat. Oddly (or not so oddly), my sympathies are with the bitchy boss, the alcoholic best friend and the really annoying boyfriend rather than the lead... which is really sad.
Also made my way through "Wicked" which I'd gone and seen on Broadway some months back. The play, with all its song and dance was lovely. But it left things somewhat unresolved. So, I went to the book, hoping for resolution. Alas, it was not to be. In fact, the book is even vaguer, leaves even more unresolved questions, makes even larger jumps in narrative, and to top it off, doesn't even have song and dance sequences. At least the play tied in some of the things together nicely- the origins of the Tin Woodman, scarecrow and lion. The book makes only vague allusions. That's not necessarily a bad thing. I like it when books leave us to figure things out ourselves. But there was no sense to this book without those ironies, so why hide them? I have to wonder how the playwrights saw that this book would make a great musical. If I had not already seen the play, I would have never guessed that any thing Broadway like could be distilled from such a meandering book with so many plotlines and confusing characters.... guess that's why I'm not producing Broadway shows.
Anyway, next on the horizon in Wolf Hall... the Booker prize winner... should make it the year of the Tudors for me. Have also picked up a book on the War of the Roses... make that the year of the historical
Edited on 10/22/2009- a reminder that I should not blog when half asleep and practically unable to find the letters on the keyboard.
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