It's hard to do your own writing when you sit around all day reading everyone else's.
Today I read and finished The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society. It was written by an 80-something year old woman, and after she got the book deal the editor wanted substantial revisions which she wasn't healthy enough to do. So her niece (the coauthor) did those. I don't know what the revisions were, but it might account for the uneven tone of the book.
- For those who didn't like the book, they complain about it being too light. That wasn't at all a problem for me, I love light. Adore light. I'm pretty light myself.
- There was some Serious Wit in the first half. Unfortunately once the heroine goes to Guernsey most of this peters out.
- Some have criticized the lack of research, and some reviews by Guernsey people say it really shows. I agree with one amazon dude who said the letters (the book is all letters) sounded American. There were a couple letters written by Guernsey working class or farmer types, and when I read them I caught myself having a southern American accent in my head. It was really hard to switch. I eventually managed to squeeze in some sort of pseudo-Scottish accent. But Guernsians have/had their own patois, and it's not reflected in the book at all--not even the occasional tossed in word.
- So don't read it as a history book. For that, you're better off with a Connie Willis, who researches like a mad woman, and spends years crafting her books. She's also really good at tackling serious topics without (a) veering off into a really dense, literary style like Toni Morrisson or Nadine Gordimer who are hard to read; and (b) without veering off in the other direction, to the sentimental. She knows how to create a sense of profound sadness.
- I think the author sometimes tackled topics that are waaaaay to huge to attempt within the confines of a little book. A couple of her characters end up in concentration camps, and I just don't think you can do those experiences justice in a couple letters. It wasn't unrealistic to send a couple characters there, but I would just leave it at that--knowing where they went would have been more horrifying than trying to describe it in a few pages. We all know. One Guernsey amazon-reviewer felt she didn't do justice to the hardships people faced in Guernsey, and for that I would again recommend Connie Willis. That's her specialty!
- And a final negative note, there's one character whom all the other characters talk about, but who's absent, and she is a Class A "Mary Sue" -- that is, someone too good to be true. Holy crap, this woman should have been beatified. I find characters more heroic when they still come with their annoyances and flaws. I found this with The Book of Negroes too, which was also immensely popular, and also recommended by Heather Reisman (CEO of Indigo Books -- she's a huuuge reader.) So there are a lot of bigger-than-life hero lovers around... they just don't seem to populate the science fiction fantasy web boards where being called a Mary-Jane is like the kiss of death.
- But I enjoyed the book to the end anyway because it was just like a 1940s movie, or a Jeanette McDonald, Nelson Eddy musical. I pictured Irene Dunne and Gary Cooper. It's a book for people who like romantic comedies, really.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
"I'm on Fire" performed by Ben Harper and Jennifer Nettles (of Sugarland)
Makes me think of Morris Day in Purple Rain: "This song ain't for everybody, just the sexy people!"
What I'm reading now...
Now I'm reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It's about life on the Channel Islands during WW2, as the only part of Britain to be occupied by the Germans. So far all I can say is... it's really interesting (the perfect complement to Willis' book) and it's much wittier than I expected!
It's a series of letters, in 1946, between a writer and her publisher / best friend / publicist / this Literary Society in Guernsey / and other people.
Here are a few choice witticisms:
Publisher to our heroine (re the public readings she's doing): "Having witnessed your electrifying performance of 'The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation' eighteen years ago, I know you will have every listener coiled around your little finger within moments. A hint: perhaps in this case, you should refrain from throwing the book at the audience when you finish." Her reply: "I did not throw 'The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation' at the audience. I threw it at the elocution mistress. I meant to cast it at her feet, but I missed."
The publicist to the publisher: "Don't believe the newspaper reports. Juliet was not arrested, and taken away in handcuffs. ... She did throw a teapot at Gilly Gilbert's head, but don't believe his claim that she scalded him; the tea was cold. Besides, it was more of a skim-by than a direct hit."
American guy to our heroine: "I don't suppose you have a telephone, do you?" Her reply: "I do have a telephone. It's in Oakley Street under a pile of rubble that used to be my flat. I'm only sub-letting here, and my landlady, Mrs. Olive Burns, possesses the sole telephone on the premises. If you would like to chat with her, I can give you her number."
Our heroine to her best friend: "Your questions regarding that gentlemen are very delicate, very subtle, very much like being smacked in the head with a mallet."
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