About halfway through this book, author Jacobson includes a retelling of "The Allegory of the Frog," you know, the one about the frog who lets himself be boiled because the water is warmed gradually. It seems to me that J in its entirety is an allegory rather than a novel in the usual sense, because its plot line and characters at no time appear lifelike (no more than the frog); however, they do carry an obvious message: humanity needs a scapegoat for its anger, and, for the Jews, this means that history can repeat itself.
The world of the novel occurs some time in the future following a largely undescribed violent event called by all WHAT HAPPENED, IF IT HAPPENED, after which the population by common consent all chose new names (a curious blend of Celtic and Jewish), agreed to forget about the past, and adopted an apologetic "so sorry" superficial attitude. Despite their efforts to create a climate of peace and love, their society is filled with random violence, particularly against women.
The two central characters, who both feel themselves to be misfits who are threatened in some unspecified way, are thrown together by some mysterious agency and fall in love. The mystery becomes, who is trying to direct their lives, and why.
Favorable comparisons that have been made between J and the dystopian classics 1984 and Brave New World greatly overestimate the power of this book. J never seems real, lacks narrative tension, and, most of all, does not have an interesting plot at all, unlike those to which it is being compared. They are alike, however, in their generally bleak view of mankind. Jacobson appears to be correct in his contentions -- when life is not perfect, people tend to look for someone to blame and assume an "us" against "them" attitude. (This scenario is rampant in the US, though, in this case, the Jewish people don't seem to be the "them.")
In conclusion, I would recommend J for its ideas, but not as an interesting or intriguing novel. (It was a finalist for England's 2014 Man Booker Prize.)
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Friday, January 16, 2015
The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan
The Narrow Road to the Deep North is a novel of such extraordinary power that it left me disturbed for days after finishing it. The major portion follows a World War II Australian army surgeon through almost unimaginable adversities as a prisoner of war involved in the building of the Thai-Burma Death Railway, and that section is the most impressive, but the story also follows him, some of his fellow captives, and even their Japanese and Korean captors in the years after the war; and includes a romance between the surgeon and his uncle's wife.
In the POW section, after witnessing the murder by beating of one of his fellow captives, the surgeon "thought he grasped the truth of a terrifying world in which one could not escape horror, in which violence was eternal, the great and only verity, greater than the civilizations it created...." This violence and horror is so effectively communicated by Flanagan that it becomes overwhelming and devastating and very real. This is the heart of the book.
The stories of the various men after the war, particularly of the surgeon, read as case studies in PTSD. The returned soldiers "died off quickly, strangely, in car smashes and suicides and creeping diseases....too many of their marriages faltered and staggered....They went bush by themselves....they stayed in town with others and drank too much; they went a bit crazy...." The surgeon's life-after-war finds him highly successful in his profession and honored by his country for his role in the prison camp, yet he is filled with emptiness and guilt. All the accounts are profoundly moving, even those of the captors.
And then, unfortunately, there's the love story, which seems out of place and almost treacly in comparison to the rest of the book. I believe Flanagan meant it to be a contrast to the violence and despair, but it instead weakens the message and seems as if belongs in another novel entirely.
Still, The Narrow Road to the Deep North is a grand achievement, the best current novel I have read in some time. (Winner of the 2014 Man Booker Prize)
In the POW section, after witnessing the murder by beating of one of his fellow captives, the surgeon "thought he grasped the truth of a terrifying world in which one could not escape horror, in which violence was eternal, the great and only verity, greater than the civilizations it created...." This violence and horror is so effectively communicated by Flanagan that it becomes overwhelming and devastating and very real. This is the heart of the book.
The stories of the various men after the war, particularly of the surgeon, read as case studies in PTSD. The returned soldiers "died off quickly, strangely, in car smashes and suicides and creeping diseases....too many of their marriages faltered and staggered....They went bush by themselves....they stayed in town with others and drank too much; they went a bit crazy...." The surgeon's life-after-war finds him highly successful in his profession and honored by his country for his role in the prison camp, yet he is filled with emptiness and guilt. All the accounts are profoundly moving, even those of the captors.
And then, unfortunately, there's the love story, which seems out of place and almost treacly in comparison to the rest of the book. I believe Flanagan meant it to be a contrast to the violence and despair, but it instead weakens the message and seems as if belongs in another novel entirely.
Still, The Narrow Road to the Deep North is a grand achievement, the best current novel I have read in some time. (Winner of the 2014 Man Booker Prize)
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
The Mansion by William Faulkner
Faulkner concludes his story of the rise and fall of Flem Snopes with this third installment of the Snopes Trilogy, published 19 years after the first installment, The Hamlet. This can be enjoyably read as a stand-alone novel; for those reading it as the culmination of one long story, it can even be a bit repetitious, as large sections retell incidents already reported in the two earlier books, albeit often with additional or slightly different information.
The two central characters are those who bring about Flem's death: Mink Snopes, the convicted murderer first introduced in The Hamlet, who leaves prison after 39 years still intent on revenge against his cousin Flem for abandoning him during his trial; and Linda Snopes Kohl, the supposed daughter of Flem, who arranges for Mink's release for reasons of her own.
Faulkner's continued use of multiple narrators is particularly effective in this novel, allowing the reader to understand and empathize with both the simple minded Mink and the lawyer Gavin Stevens, the high-minded "knight" whose obsession is to "save" both Linda and, previously, Eula Verner Snopes, her mother. Interestingly, the reader is never allowed to see into the minds of Flem and Linda, so that their thoughts and motivations are always subject to the interpretations of other narrators.
The Mansion, both as a single novel and as the third of a trilogy, excels and enthralls as to plot and the grandeur of the language, but the story also has added significance and symbolism that can be thought about long afterward. I'm still thinking about it.
The two central characters are those who bring about Flem's death: Mink Snopes, the convicted murderer first introduced in The Hamlet, who leaves prison after 39 years still intent on revenge against his cousin Flem for abandoning him during his trial; and Linda Snopes Kohl, the supposed daughter of Flem, who arranges for Mink's release for reasons of her own.
Faulkner's continued use of multiple narrators is particularly effective in this novel, allowing the reader to understand and empathize with both the simple minded Mink and the lawyer Gavin Stevens, the high-minded "knight" whose obsession is to "save" both Linda and, previously, Eula Verner Snopes, her mother. Interestingly, the reader is never allowed to see into the minds of Flem and Linda, so that their thoughts and motivations are always subject to the interpretations of other narrators.
The Mansion, both as a single novel and as the third of a trilogy, excels and enthralls as to plot and the grandeur of the language, but the story also has added significance and symbolism that can be thought about long afterward. I'm still thinking about it.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
The Town by William Faulkner
For the first time I have perceived a Faulkner novel to be a shade less than perfect. This middle volume of The Snopes Trilogy continues the story of the rise of the shrewd and ruthless Flem Snopes into a position of importance in the town of Jefferson, Mississippi, in the early part of the 20th Century, though it is more concerned with the stories of his wife Eula and his supposed daughter Linda. In contrast to the first book of the Trilogy, The Hamlet, which was grotesquely humorous, often bordering on farce and parody, most of The Town is a doom-laden tragedy of near-mythical proportions. The inclusion of a couple of farcical incidents, particularly the mules in the yard episode, just don't seem to fit the overall tone, to my way of thinking. I wish Faulkner had ended the book with this impressive quote: "She loved, had a capacity for love, to give and accept love. Only she tried twice and failed twice to find somebody not just strong enough to deserve, earn it, match it, but even brave enough to accept it."
However, for me to criticize Faulkner is about equivalent to a grain of sand critiquing the ocean waves.
However, for me to criticize Faulkner is about equivalent to a grain of sand critiquing the ocean waves.
Monday, January 5, 2015
The Hamlet by William Faulkner
The preponderance of William Faulkner's stories of his mythical Yoknapatawpha County concern the fallen Southern aristocracy and read like Greek tragedies; I can enjoy but not relate to these because, though I am a daughter of the South, my ancestors were not the plantation owners or the classically educated lawyers and such like. This saga tells of the rise of the Snopes family, Southern white trash who succeed through the sharpness of their skill at taking advantage of the greed of others. That's closer to my heritage. Wait, perhaps my people would not even have been classified as suitable members of the Snopes clan. Mine were more likely to have been some of the hapless victims, naive or greedy enough, or both, to be taken in by a Snopes scheme. To this I can relate.
This novel reads like a series of short stories, and it is very funny, albeit of a very grotesque sort of humor, almost a parody of a Greek tragedy. We read of injury, death, madness, greed, sexual obsession, imbecility, and even bestiality and can find it all a source of uncomfortable amusement. Not many authors could accomplish that stretch, conveying the levity of tragedy when it happens to someone else, while at the same time transmitting the emotions of sympathy and sorrow. Go, Faulkner.
Many are prone to saying that Faulkner is not really difficult to read, and in a way they are right. True, he does not explain everything, but requires his readers to form conclusions and to make connections for themselves. He does not follow the rules and conventions of prose, but instead writes stories as they would be told orally. He immerses readers in a veritable flood of words. He requires his readers to put their brains in an entirely different gear from that usually used for reading fiction, but the results are so rewarding that he is worth any amount of effort. And, surprisingly, after one gets "in the swim," so to speak, no effort is required.
This is a fable of the New South, where the manners and noble ideals of the old order have been supplanted by the raw and vigorous amorality of a new ruling class, a class which, just like the Snopes family, seemingly multiplies without end. In fact, I believe that the Governor of my state is one of the Snopes cousins.
This novel reads like a series of short stories, and it is very funny, albeit of a very grotesque sort of humor, almost a parody of a Greek tragedy. We read of injury, death, madness, greed, sexual obsession, imbecility, and even bestiality and can find it all a source of uncomfortable amusement. Not many authors could accomplish that stretch, conveying the levity of tragedy when it happens to someone else, while at the same time transmitting the emotions of sympathy and sorrow. Go, Faulkner.
Many are prone to saying that Faulkner is not really difficult to read, and in a way they are right. True, he does not explain everything, but requires his readers to form conclusions and to make connections for themselves. He does not follow the rules and conventions of prose, but instead writes stories as they would be told orally. He immerses readers in a veritable flood of words. He requires his readers to put their brains in an entirely different gear from that usually used for reading fiction, but the results are so rewarding that he is worth any amount of effort. And, surprisingly, after one gets "in the swim," so to speak, no effort is required.
This is a fable of the New South, where the manners and noble ideals of the old order have been supplanted by the raw and vigorous amorality of a new ruling class, a class which, just like the Snopes family, seemingly multiplies without end. In fact, I believe that the Governor of my state is one of the Snopes cousins.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Revival by Stephen King
King's latest novel is dedicated to a list of writers who, King writes, "...built my house." Among those listed is H.P. Lovecraft, and a couplet from a Lovecraft poem is referenced several times in the novel. For anyone familiar with Lovecraft's Gothic horror novels, the images described in the climax of King's book will seem very familiar, but King's horror falls far short of the power he is emulating.
For one thing, the entirety of a Lovecraft short story or novella always carries a tone of dread and near madness throughout, so greatly has the first-person narrator been affected by his experience. In contrast, more than half of King's novel is a very mundane and straightforward coming-of-age story which begins in the '60s, somewhat repetitive of several of his earlier works, such as the short story "Stand By Me." The protagonist's descent into drug addiction and subsequent recovery has also been covered by King in earlier works, often more convincingly, as in Dr. Sleep. Neither the tone nor the content of the first two-thirds of this novel prepare the reader for the ending. We have little rising tension. The two parts just don't seem to fit together.
Another thing: Lovecraft's sentence structure and word choices reinforce his atmosphere of horror; he wrote in a consciously archaic style and was a master of using descriptive words such as "eldritch" and "putrescent" and "writhing of worms." King's style is much more simplistic and much less evocative. His scene of horror is, consequently, never as horrific as it should be.
Obviously I am not a big fan of this King novel, even though I am generally a fan of his. He has done better; I hope he will do better in the future.
One disturbing thing: the endings of previous King books seem to carry the message that good can overcome evil, though perhaps not forever, because the evil may rise again to be confronted once again by the good. That pretty much corresponds with my world view, so I find it comforting. The ending of this novel carries the much bleaker message that evil will win in the end. The most horrifying aspect of this novel to me is the thought that the writer of The Dark Tower series has decided that the dark will defeat the light in the end despite all best efforts.
For one thing, the entirety of a Lovecraft short story or novella always carries a tone of dread and near madness throughout, so greatly has the first-person narrator been affected by his experience. In contrast, more than half of King's novel is a very mundane and straightforward coming-of-age story which begins in the '60s, somewhat repetitive of several of his earlier works, such as the short story "Stand By Me." The protagonist's descent into drug addiction and subsequent recovery has also been covered by King in earlier works, often more convincingly, as in Dr. Sleep. Neither the tone nor the content of the first two-thirds of this novel prepare the reader for the ending. We have little rising tension. The two parts just don't seem to fit together.
Another thing: Lovecraft's sentence structure and word choices reinforce his atmosphere of horror; he wrote in a consciously archaic style and was a master of using descriptive words such as "eldritch" and "putrescent" and "writhing of worms." King's style is much more simplistic and much less evocative. His scene of horror is, consequently, never as horrific as it should be.
Obviously I am not a big fan of this King novel, even though I am generally a fan of his. He has done better; I hope he will do better in the future.
One disturbing thing: the endings of previous King books seem to carry the message that good can overcome evil, though perhaps not forever, because the evil may rise again to be confronted once again by the good. That pretty much corresponds with my world view, so I find it comforting. The ending of this novel carries the much bleaker message that evil will win in the end. The most horrifying aspect of this novel to me is the thought that the writer of The Dark Tower series has decided that the dark will defeat the light in the end despite all best efforts.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Eleven short reviews of November-December books
In November my computer came down with a virus which necessitated a visit to an expert and a hefty bill. Then came Thanksgiving and a weekend of cooking and feasting. After that I had to stay with my daughter for a bit while some work was being completed on my rented home. And then I visited my son in Phoenix for a couple of weeks, coming back to home and computer a few days before Christmas. During all this hurly-burly, I had little opportunity to write reviews of books, but I did have much time to read. All this is to say that rather than writing full reviews of the books I read the last part of November and all of December, I am bundling short reviews of all the books in one posting.
*Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Year of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami
Murakami is a somewhat unusual writer in that he is capable of writing well in two distinct styles. His most well known novels, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore, are both surreal, filled with magic realism, Japanese-style. The novel which first brought him super stardom in his native Japan, Norwegian Wood, is realistic and wistful. This novel is written in the latter style.
The protagonist in a single professional, in his thirties, who is lonely, detached, and filled with self-doubt, due in large part to an incident which took place when he was in his teens. He is helped by a young woman to realize that he can have a happier future if he better understands his past. The prose is tinged with sadness and loss, even as it ends on a hopeful note. I have to admit I like the surreal style much the best.
*Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson
The best adjective I can think of to describe this novel is hallucinogenic. In tone it is very much like Apocalypse Now, Coppola's film about the war in Vietnam which used the plot of Conrad's Heart of Darkness as inspiration.
This also concerns Vietnam, but concentrates more on the shadowy behind-the-scenes actions of the CIA than on the soldiers on the ground. It is cynical, frightening, and extremely powerful, most likely a masterpiece. That being said, I don't believe everyone would enjoy it, maybe because it manages to make the reading experience more than a bit uncomfortable. This is not a feel-good book, for sure. (Winner of the National Book Award.)
*From Here to Eternity by James Jones
Second reading; first read in the '70s
Another big war novel, this one taking place just as World War II begins. Written in 1951, it is based on the army experiences of the author and features a very realistic style, including much dialogue, as it follows several main characters who are stationed in Hawaii just prior to the Pearl Harbor attack.
In addition to some engrossing plot lines, Jones gives us a glimpse of the politics and inadequacies of the command structure. Although a little dated in some respects, the book is still impossible to put down. (Winner of the National Book Award and included in the Modern Library Top 100.)
*Tempest-Tost by Robertson Davies
A comedic novel about a group of amateur actors in a smallish Canadian town who are mounting a production of Shakespeare's The Tempest. Quietly amusing, with characters who are only slightly exaggerated versions of people of very familiar types. This is Book 1 of Davies' Salterton Trilogy; his later novels which make up the Deptford Trilogy and the Cornish Trilogy are much more accomplished.
*Leaven of Malice by Robertson Davies
Book 2 of the Salterton Trilogy. This one concerns the mischief which ensues when a spurious notice in the local newspaper reports the engagement of two prominent young people. The small-town politics and sensibilities provide the subject for gentle comedy.
*Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope
This is my favorite Trollope novel out of the several I have read, but since he wrote so many (47), I still have many to look forward to. He was a contemporary of Dickens, but his books are much less melodramatic, much more gentle in their humor, depending on a more realistic depiction of the foibles of humanity.
This novel follows the love problems of three women, all of whom must make a choice between two men. In all three cases, one of the options is dependable, even though perhaps a bit boring, and the other option is more dangerously exciting and sexy. (Although Trollope doesn't actually spell out the sexy part, it is certainly implied.) Will reason and prudence prevail, or will the bad boys win? A very amusing look at the upper classes in Victorian England.
*NOS4A2 by Joe Hill
(Pronounced "Nosferatu") A supernatural thriller by Stephen King's son. His villain is a vampire of souls, who abducts children to an alternative world which contains Christmasland (where everything is fun, all the time), robbing them of their humanity. The results will remind you of those spoiled, cruel, self-centered kids whose parents have granted their every wish. I found that to be kind of funny, although it probably wasn't meant to be.
I didn't find anything very original here; in fact, several ideas were apparently taken from Hill's father. But it was suspenseful and fast-paced and the characters were well drawn.
It must be hard to have literary aspirations and be the offspring of a wildly successful writer.
*The City by Dean Koontz
Koontz is a very prolific writer, one of the world's most successful in terms of revenue. I have yet to read anything of his which would justify this level of acclaim, but maybe I have just not read the right books yet. This one is a suspense thriller with a slight intrusion of the supernatural. The plot centers on a young black musical prodigy and his family, who become involved with some political terrorists. I don't know why Koontz named it The City. Moderately amusing to read but immediately forgettable.
*Innocence by Dean Koontz
Another Koontz thriller, with a big dose of the supernatural thrown in, including the fact that just a glimpse of the protagonist causes ordinary people to attack him out of revulsion and rage. We don't find out the details of his appearance until the end. I found the whole plot to be fragmented and illogical.
*Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King
Second reading; first read in the '90s.
When I am visiting someone and run out of the books I brought with me, I borrow from the host bookshelf; thus I chose to read this novel for a second time. It is #5 of The Dark Tower books, a series I love, despite the fact that it is highly melodramatic and often pure hokum. Maybe that's why I love it. In this episode, Roland the gunslinger and his ka-tet of helpers are asked to rescue a rural community from man-like "wolves" who kidnap about half their children once a generation. The plot line is obviously lifted from numerous western movies, but that's OK. It still works.
*Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens
This book completes my reading of all the Dickens novels. I would put this close to the bottom in my ranking of favorites. In the first half of the book the plot centers around a mystery and a couple of love stories. The second half focuses on the Gordon anti-popery riots of 1780, with an almost incidental solution to the mystery and conclusion to the love stories. The two halves make for a very uneasy fit. Plus, the solution to the mystery is easily anticipated, and none of the characters are very interesting.
One interesting aspect: Dickens' depiction of the make-up of the rioters would apply just as well today, I would venture to say. What may start as a peaceful demonstration by people of conscience is easily turned into a riot by various varieties of low-life with very different motivations.
For inquiring minds who want to know, my favorite Dickens novel is Bleak House and my least favorite is The Old Curiosity Shop.
*Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Year of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami
Murakami is a somewhat unusual writer in that he is capable of writing well in two distinct styles. His most well known novels, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore, are both surreal, filled with magic realism, Japanese-style. The novel which first brought him super stardom in his native Japan, Norwegian Wood, is realistic and wistful. This novel is written in the latter style.
The protagonist in a single professional, in his thirties, who is lonely, detached, and filled with self-doubt, due in large part to an incident which took place when he was in his teens. He is helped by a young woman to realize that he can have a happier future if he better understands his past. The prose is tinged with sadness and loss, even as it ends on a hopeful note. I have to admit I like the surreal style much the best.
*Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson
The best adjective I can think of to describe this novel is hallucinogenic. In tone it is very much like Apocalypse Now, Coppola's film about the war in Vietnam which used the plot of Conrad's Heart of Darkness as inspiration.
This also concerns Vietnam, but concentrates more on the shadowy behind-the-scenes actions of the CIA than on the soldiers on the ground. It is cynical, frightening, and extremely powerful, most likely a masterpiece. That being said, I don't believe everyone would enjoy it, maybe because it manages to make the reading experience more than a bit uncomfortable. This is not a feel-good book, for sure. (Winner of the National Book Award.)
*From Here to Eternity by James Jones
Second reading; first read in the '70s
Another big war novel, this one taking place just as World War II begins. Written in 1951, it is based on the army experiences of the author and features a very realistic style, including much dialogue, as it follows several main characters who are stationed in Hawaii just prior to the Pearl Harbor attack.
In addition to some engrossing plot lines, Jones gives us a glimpse of the politics and inadequacies of the command structure. Although a little dated in some respects, the book is still impossible to put down. (Winner of the National Book Award and included in the Modern Library Top 100.)
*Tempest-Tost by Robertson Davies
A comedic novel about a group of amateur actors in a smallish Canadian town who are mounting a production of Shakespeare's The Tempest. Quietly amusing, with characters who are only slightly exaggerated versions of people of very familiar types. This is Book 1 of Davies' Salterton Trilogy; his later novels which make up the Deptford Trilogy and the Cornish Trilogy are much more accomplished.
*Leaven of Malice by Robertson Davies
Book 2 of the Salterton Trilogy. This one concerns the mischief which ensues when a spurious notice in the local newspaper reports the engagement of two prominent young people. The small-town politics and sensibilities provide the subject for gentle comedy.
*Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope
This is my favorite Trollope novel out of the several I have read, but since he wrote so many (47), I still have many to look forward to. He was a contemporary of Dickens, but his books are much less melodramatic, much more gentle in their humor, depending on a more realistic depiction of the foibles of humanity.
This novel follows the love problems of three women, all of whom must make a choice between two men. In all three cases, one of the options is dependable, even though perhaps a bit boring, and the other option is more dangerously exciting and sexy. (Although Trollope doesn't actually spell out the sexy part, it is certainly implied.) Will reason and prudence prevail, or will the bad boys win? A very amusing look at the upper classes in Victorian England.
*NOS4A2 by Joe Hill
(Pronounced "Nosferatu") A supernatural thriller by Stephen King's son. His villain is a vampire of souls, who abducts children to an alternative world which contains Christmasland (where everything is fun, all the time), robbing them of their humanity. The results will remind you of those spoiled, cruel, self-centered kids whose parents have granted their every wish. I found that to be kind of funny, although it probably wasn't meant to be.
I didn't find anything very original here; in fact, several ideas were apparently taken from Hill's father. But it was suspenseful and fast-paced and the characters were well drawn.
It must be hard to have literary aspirations and be the offspring of a wildly successful writer.
*The City by Dean Koontz
Koontz is a very prolific writer, one of the world's most successful in terms of revenue. I have yet to read anything of his which would justify this level of acclaim, but maybe I have just not read the right books yet. This one is a suspense thriller with a slight intrusion of the supernatural. The plot centers on a young black musical prodigy and his family, who become involved with some political terrorists. I don't know why Koontz named it The City. Moderately amusing to read but immediately forgettable.
*Innocence by Dean Koontz
Another Koontz thriller, with a big dose of the supernatural thrown in, including the fact that just a glimpse of the protagonist causes ordinary people to attack him out of revulsion and rage. We don't find out the details of his appearance until the end. I found the whole plot to be fragmented and illogical.
*Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King
Second reading; first read in the '90s.
When I am visiting someone and run out of the books I brought with me, I borrow from the host bookshelf; thus I chose to read this novel for a second time. It is #5 of The Dark Tower books, a series I love, despite the fact that it is highly melodramatic and often pure hokum. Maybe that's why I love it. In this episode, Roland the gunslinger and his ka-tet of helpers are asked to rescue a rural community from man-like "wolves" who kidnap about half their children once a generation. The plot line is obviously lifted from numerous western movies, but that's OK. It still works.
*Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens
This book completes my reading of all the Dickens novels. I would put this close to the bottom in my ranking of favorites. In the first half of the book the plot centers around a mystery and a couple of love stories. The second half focuses on the Gordon anti-popery riots of 1780, with an almost incidental solution to the mystery and conclusion to the love stories. The two halves make for a very uneasy fit. Plus, the solution to the mystery is easily anticipated, and none of the characters are very interesting.
One interesting aspect: Dickens' depiction of the make-up of the rioters would apply just as well today, I would venture to say. What may start as a peaceful demonstration by people of conscience is easily turned into a riot by various varieties of low-life with very different motivations.
For inquiring minds who want to know, my favorite Dickens novel is Bleak House and my least favorite is The Old Curiosity Shop.
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